Death of a Recluse (Riley Rochester Investigates Book 6) Read online

  ‘Ah, Lord Riley.’ Mrs Allen’s attitude went from berating to sycophantic in the blink of an eye. Riley inhaled deeply, disliking her on sight. She was a tall, solid individual wearing a dress that was too young for her, and certainly too tight. She stood erect in front of a blazing fire, obviously intent upon dominating proceedings. ‘I am very pleased that they sent a gentleman to look into this matter, although I cannot begin to imagine why they felt the need to send someone of your stature. My poor nephew died of natural causes, obviously. He was never strong and I would imagine that opening up his house again to so many people…’ She glowered at the young man and woman sitting together a little apart from the rest of the party. ‘To strangers, no less, proved too much for his weak heart.’

  ‘You know this for a fact?’ Riley asked calmly.

  ‘Well obviously, it’s…obvious.’

  Another older lady, presumably the maternal aunt, occupied a chair that swamped her slight form. She seemed as timid as Mrs Allen was assertive, and looked as though she had been crying. ‘Is there any doubt about Theo’s cause of death?’ she asked, swallowing. ‘We just assumed, you see…Trent would not permit us to see our nephew.’

  ‘Which was very high-handed of him, if you ask me,’ Mrs Allen said, jutting her chin pugnaciously. ‘He quite forgets his place.’

  ‘Trent acted with great foresight,’ Riley replied, glancing around the room.

  Both of Sir Theodore’s male cousins were standing. One had draped himself against the mantel and looked bored with the entire affair. His hair hadn’t been waxed or combed and he looked as though he would have benefited from several more hours in bed. The other stood behind Mrs Marshall’s chair with a hand resting on her shoulder. He seemed calm and in control of himself. He, Riley thought, would have made a more dignified and capable inheritor of the baronetcy. Arthur Allen, to whom the title would pass after his father’s death, appeared on first sight to be a wastrel, dominated and indulged by his mother. Riley wondered where Mr Allen was. Trent had not mentioned his name so presumably he had avoided this gathering. He tucked that disquieting fact away for future consideration.

  Riley was most interested in Miss Bradshaw and her brother. They sat a little apart from the rest of the company, holding hands. It was immediately obvious to Riley that Miss Bradshaw was by far and away the most distressed person in the room. She was remarkably beautiful, even when devastated, her eyes red-rimmed from crying. Her brother also cut a striking figure. The hand not holding his sister’s constantly rubbed her back, but he looked as though he would benefit from a little comforting of his own. Riley felt very curious about their connection to the wealthy and reclusive victim. A connection so strong that they had been invited to attend this family reunion, if that’s what it was intended to have been.

  ‘I shall need to speak to all of your individually,’ Riley informed them.

  ‘Good lord man, whatever for?’ Arthur demanded.

  ‘Oh, did I not say?’ He fixed the indolent youth with a hard stare. ‘Your cousin’s death was not from natural causes.’ Riley paused, conscious of holding the attention of everyone in the room. ‘He was murdered.’

  Chapter Three

  A shocked silence at Riley’s pronouncement was broken, predictably, by Mrs Allen’s wailing.

  ‘I knew no good would come of this,’ she cried. ‘I just knew it.’ She glowered at Miss Bradshaw, as though she held her personally responsible. ‘Perhaps you should speak to me first, Lord Riley.’ She straightened her shoulders, still dry-eyed despite her apparent anguish. ‘After that, I doubt whether you will need to trouble anyone else.’

  Riley shared a resigned look with Salter. ‘By all means. Please come with us, madam. I should be obliged if the rest of you would wait here. I shall try not to keep you too long.’

  ‘I should think not,’ Arthur said, puffing out his chest and then yawning, as though the simple gesture had exhausted him. ‘Don’t care to be treated like a criminal.’

  ‘Then I would suggest that you stop posturing and making yourself look like one,’ Salter said, scowling at the man.

  ‘Don’t allow your sergeant to speak to my son in that fashion, Lord Riley. I really must protest at his manner.’

  Riley ignored her and motioned her through the door that Salter opened. Harper closed it behind them, and returned to sentry duty. As promised, the fire had been lit in the morning room, but there was still a chill in the air. Riley offered Mrs Allen the chair closest to the blaze and then took the one across from her. Salter leaned against the door, notebook in hand, pencil poised.

  ‘I understand that you were invited by your nephew to visit for a few days, Mrs Allen.’

  She cleared her throat. ‘Lady Allen.’

  Riley blinked. ‘I beg your pardon.’

  ‘This tragic event means that the title will pass to my husband. That makes me Lady Allen now.’

  ‘Good God, woman!’ Salter exclaimed. ‘Show a little respect.’

  ‘Will you keep your sergeant under some degree of control, Lord Riley?’ Lady Allen demanded before turning to Salter. ‘I did not wish Theo any harm, Sergeant, and I most certainly did not kill him.’ She fixed Salter with a haughty look. ‘I did not ask for this, but life goes on and facts must be faced.’

  Riley made no comment about her extraordinary behaviour as he settled himself into a more comfortable position. ‘I assume Sir Theo’s invitation came as a considerable surprise, given that you were estranged.’

  ‘Not exactly estranged, Lord Riley.’ Lady Allen looked away from him, taking a moment to invent a less conflicted history that would show her in a better light, Riley assumed. ‘It’s just that…well, you are probably not aware that my nephew suffered a terrible tragedy when he was still very young.’

  ‘I am aware that his parents perished in a house fire.’

  She nodded, looking unconvincingly grave. ‘Theo was with them, but thankfully he managed to escape.’

  ‘Where did this fire take place?’ Salter asked.

  Lady Allen glared over her shoulder at him, as though she didn’t intend to answer any questions directed towards her by a lowly sergeant. Riley refrained from advising her to keep on Salter’s good side. She would find out for herself just how insistent he could be when treated like the hired help. He most certainly did not kowtow to people who thought that an accident of birth made them his betters.

  ‘At a house party in the country. We were all there, the entire family, as guests of Lord and Lady Telford.’ She preened a little at the mention of Telford’s name. ‘The first Lady Telford, that is. The fire broke out in one wing of the house, no one quite knows how. Theo was dragged out by…oh, a footman, I think it was.’ She waved a hand as though the identity of the rescuer was of no consequence. ‘By the time the alarm was raised, the fire had taken a hold and my brother and his wife were not so fortunate.’

  ‘Were there any other fatalities?’ Riley asked.

  ‘Happily not, but Theo was never quite the same after that. He was just sixteen at the time and he was a shy and introverted child even then. He had suffered from acute bouts of asthma since birth, which prevented him from attending school and enjoying the company of boys his own age. He had tutors instead, but was so very clever that they were the ones who finished up being instructed by him. His intellect at such a young age was really rather intimidating. I cannot recall any occasion when I saw that child without his nose in a book.’

  Riley thought of Sir Theodore’s overstocked library and nodded. He had glanced at the spines of some of books, the titles of which were so obscure that he’d struggled to decide what subjects they must relate to.

  ‘Things got worse after his parents died. The smoke he breathed in from the fire weakened his chest even more, and his mother—the only person who could persuade him to pay lip service to his social obligations, was no longer there to remind him of the obligations in question. Theo said that he didn’t see the point in wasting time talking about trivia
lities with people who did not interest him.’

  Riley thought that with relatives like the newly self-appointed Lady Allen, Theo’s argument had been a sound one. ‘What happened to your nephew then? He inherited the title, obviously, and I recall that his father was a wealthy man. Presumably Sir Theo inherited all that wealth too. I don’t think he had siblings.’

  ‘He did not, and yes, he inherited everything, which accounts for his palatial living standards.’

  Riley had noticed the absence of jewellery on Mrs Allen’s person. It was morning, admittedly, a time when ladies did not customarily flaunt their jewels. They had probably all dressed in haste when they learned of Sir Theo’s death; hardly circumstances in which she would have given much thought to the trinkets that adorned her person. But Mrs Allen was a stickler for standards. Despite the shock of her nephew’s death, her hair was perfectly coiffured and she was impeccably, if inappropriately, attired. But a gold wedding band was her only adornment, and the gown that he had initially considered wrong for her he could see at closer quarters was old and dated. Money difficulties, he wondered, accounting for the envy she couldn’t entirely keep from her tone when she referred to Sir Theo’s wealth.

  ‘What happened to Sir Theo after his parents’ death?’ he asked.

  ‘Well, naturally he came to reside with us. My husband was named as Theo’s guardian and took his duties seriously in that regard.’ Riley rested his elbow on the arm of his chair and rubbed the side of his index finger absently against his lips, perfectly sure that Allen had seized the opportunity with gratitude, but not out of concern for Theo’s wellbeing. ‘I thought it would be good for Theo to be exposed to my children, unaccustomed as he was to the company of his peers. My son Arthur, whom you met just now, was only six at the time but he has four older sisters.’ She smiled coquettishly. ‘Oh, I can see what you are thinking, Lord Riley. You are surprised that I am old enough to have four daughters of that age.’

  She patted her outdated hairstyle. Salter turned a chortle into a cough. Riley’s manners only just prevented him from laughing out loud.

  ‘Everyone thinks that when first making my acquaintance.’ Lady Allen shifted her position, clearly anxious to impress her version of her family history upon Riley. He doubted whether it would be an accurate account. ‘I had hoped that my girls would bring Theo out of himself and perhaps…but anyway, it came to nothing.’

  ‘Who controlled Sir Theo’s inheritance whilst he was still under age?’ Riley asked.

  Mrs Allen sniffed. ‘My late brother-in-law’s attorneys. They were quite rude to my husband when he offered to assume that duty.’ She bridled at the resurrected memory. ‘Really, it was most insulting. He was trusted to look after Theo, but not his fortune. We only wanted to help, but the man was most insistent that my brother-in-law’s instructions had been clear on the point, so there was nothing we could do. Theo continued to immerse himself in his books, refused to set foot in society, and the moment he turned twenty-one he purchased this house and moved himself in, without a word of thanks to us for our efforts.’ She sniffed. ‘We tried to make allowances, but Theo was a very strange boy. Very strange indeed.’

  ‘Sir Theo was thirty-six?’ Salter asked.

  ‘He was.’

  ‘When did he break off all communications with the rest of his family, and why?’ Riley asked.

  ‘Really, Lord Riley, is that relevant to your investigation?’ Lady Allen straightened her shoulders, defiant yet wary.

  ‘I shall not know unless you enlighten me,’ Riley responded calmly.

  ‘Don’t you want to find out who did this to your nephew?’ Salter asked, his tone belligerent.

  ‘Of course.’ But still she hesitated. Riley wondered what it was that she didn’t want him to know, but could hazard an educated guess. He also thought it significant that she hadn’t yet asked how her nephew had been murdered. ‘Well, the fact of the matter is that my husband made some bad investments. We found ourselves in financial straits. Not the type of admission that one likes to make. One has a reputation to protect, after all. However, I feel assured of your discretion, Lord Riley.’

  ‘Nothing will be revealed that might embarrass you, ma’am, unless it impinges directly upon our enquiry.’

  ‘Well then, suffice it to say that we treated Theo as one of our own. No different to his cousins, and I have to say that he was most obliging. He financed all four of my daughters’ coming-outs.’

  ‘Very generous of him,’ Riley agreed, well aware that presenting daughters, giving them a season and a come-out ball, was an expensive business.

  ‘Well, as I say, we gave him a home.’ She paused. ‘However, when it came to Arthur’s turn to need a little financial help to set himself up independently… I mean, young men stand a better chance of making good marriages if they have something more than just charm and good looks to recommend them.’

  Salter had another of his coughing fits, presumably because he shared Riley’s view that there was nothing either remotely charming or the slightest bit handsome about Arthur Allen.

  ‘I take it he declined to help his cousin,’ Riley said, keeping a commendably straight face.

  ‘He did indeed. I’m afraid I got quite cross with him. I wrote and reminded him what he owed to us. I didn’t like doing it, of course, but as I say, Theo was so blithely indifferent to anything other than his books that someone had to point out how unreasonable he was being. Especially since Theo appeared to have taken better advice than my husband did and was managing to increase his fortune at a quite breath-taking rate. He would hardly have noticed the loss of a few thousand pounds.’

  ‘I dare say not,’ Riley agreed, anxious to keep her talking. Indignant people often spoke injudiciously, especially when they were anxious to justify their actions.

  ‘He didn’t answer my letters, so I was obliged to come to this house and talk sense into him.’ She sniffed. ‘However, Trent told me he was not at home, and never would be to me. He wouldn’t permit me past the threshold, which was quite infuriating. That was ten years ago, and to the best of my knowledge none of the family have corresponded with Theo or spoken to him since. Not until yesterday. And now we never shall again. Anyway, we were speaking of Trent. That man has always had far too much influence over Theo. He was jealous of how close he was to all of us and I am absolutely sure it was he who poisoned Theo’s mind against us.’

  It was the first thing she had said that really surprised Riley. ‘How long has he been in Sir Theo’s service?’ he asked.

  ‘Oh, didn’t I say? Since Theo was seven or eight. When it became clear that he wouldn’t be able to attend school, his father appointed Trent, a footman in his employ, to watch over his son the entire time.’

  ‘Trent is the footman who rescued him from the fire?’

  ‘Yes, I believe he is. My husband’s brother was not often at home, you see, and he needed to be sure that Theo had company at all times, given his weak chest. And I must concede that Trent did a very good job of it. Not sure what he will do now,’ she added, with blithe disinterest. ‘But still, I dare say there’s always openings for trained butlers.’

  ‘You gave Trent a home as well as Sir Theo, obviously,’ Riley said. ‘Given they had such a close bond, it would have been cruel to separate them.’

  ‘We most certainly did not.’ Lady Allen sat a little straighter, a feat Riley would have thought impossible. ‘We had no space and no need for him. Theo would have all the company he needed in my household.’

  ‘What did Trent do?” Salter asked, scowling.

  ‘I really have no idea, Sergeant. I am not in the habit of keeping tabs on servants.’ She made a disgruntled sound at the back of her throat. ‘Unbeknown to us, Theo must have kept in touch with him, but we only found that out when Theo moved here and we called to see him. Trent answered the door to us and couldn’t keep the smirk from his face. Take my advice, Lord Riley, and look no further than Trent for your murderer.’

  ‘If
they were so devoted to one another, why would he kill him?’ Salter asked.

  ‘I really have no idea.’ She shrugged indignantly. ‘You cannot expect me to do all your work for you. Make him tell you, then we shall all sleep more easily in our beds.’

  ‘Who inherits Sir Theo’s wealth?’ Riley asked.

  ‘I have no idea. One must consult his attorney’s, I suppose, but one imagines…’

  ‘Why do you think it might be you?’ Salter asked bluntly. ‘You weren’t even on speaking terms with your nephew?’

  ‘Blood is thicker than water, Sergeant,’ she replied with haughty disdain. ‘Theo would not have wanted the baronetcy to become bankrupt, I am absolutely sure of it. And since he didn’t marry or produce an heir of his own…’ She puffed out her ample chest. ‘I could only wish that my husband had not inherited the title under such circumstances,’ she added, clearly not wishing any such thing.

  Riley was starting to agree with Salter. She seemed the person most likely to have murdered Sir Theo, although he hadn’t yet spoken to the others, nor had he established the reason for their all being here. A gust of wind rattled the window panes, momentarily distracting them all. The sleet had turned to heavy rain and Riley watched fat droplets running down the glass. The fire was now burning strongly. Riley stood to throw another log onto it. He kicked it into place with the heel of his boot and watched as sparks shot up the chimney before replacing the guard and resuming his seat.

  ‘Do you have the name and address of his attorney?’

  Riley smiled when she named Lord Isaac Arnold. He was a close friend of Riley’s and a contemporary of his mentor, Jake Morton, the Earl of Torbay. That would make things a great deal easier. Riley knew that Isaac would tell him anything he knew or suspected about the family’s dynamics, and go into specifics about his client’s instructions in an effort to help Riley find his killer, even before the will was read.

  ‘And so we come to this gathering, madam,’ Riley said. ‘You must have been surprised to be summoned out of the blue.’