Death of a Matriarch (Riley Rochester Investigates Book 7) Read online

‘Were there any disagreements between Lady Pemberton and any members of the family that you are aware of?’

  ‘Ha! When were there not? There was always tension when the family got together, causing me to wonder why Lady P insisted upon her annual birthday gatherings. I privately thought that she enjoyed seeing us at one another’s throats. She could be a perverse old bird.’

  ‘I see.’ Riley paused, considering what question to ask next, but deciding in the end to leave matters there for the time being. He needed to find out considerably more about Kinsley’s circumstances, which he suspected were not nearly as buoyant as the man had implied, before pressing him. Financial necessity and growing weary of being dominated by his mother-in-law made compelling enough motives for murder, but without proof of desperation, Riley would get nowhere. ‘Thank you, Mr Kinsley, you may go about your business.’ Riley paused for emphasis. ‘For now. Please ask your wife to join us.’

  Mrs Kinsley bustled into the room, a tall, trim woman who still showed no signs of grief; real or imaginary. At least she was no hypocrite, Riley thought. ‘I cannot believe it,’ she said, taking the chair that her husband had just vacated. ‘Murder?’ She shook her head repeatedly. ‘I never did hear such a thing.’

  ‘Yet you have your suspicions as to the identity of the guilty party?’

  ‘Well, my sisters are both in financial straits but I am sure they would not…’ She allowed her words to trail off and folded her hands primly in her lap, making it clear that she didn’t believe them incapable of anything.

  ‘Are you suggesting that one or both of them committed matricide?’ Riley asked.

  ‘You invited my speculations, Lord Riley.’ She shuddered. ‘It is very distasteful to think that a member of one’s family might have killed one’s own mother. However, since you insist upon asking such vulgar questions, I will tell you now that both Susan and Mavis came to this party with the intention of asking for handouts.’

  ‘Did they succeed?’

  ‘I have absolutely no idea. But even if they had, Mama’s death precludes them from receiving the immediate help they require.’ She seemed very satisfied to think of her sisters struggling to make ends meet. ‘Of course there is Miss Colby. I would like to think that she is the guilty party, only because she is not related to any of us. But she was dependent upon Mama’s generosity and was, I am forced to concede, also very fond of Mama.’

  ‘How did she come to your mother’s notice?’ Salter asked.

  ‘At one of Mama’s ghastly causes she was always so determined to support, I forget which. Fallen women, gin drinkers, votes for women, rag schools…something of that nature. Mama was a great one for rescuing lame ducks.’

  ‘All of us in positions of authority have a moral duty to help the less fortunate,’ Riley remarked mildly, curious to see how she would react.

  ‘Oh, absolutely, don’t get me wrong. I do my share, but Mama went above and beyond. Anyway, regarding Miss Colby, unless she is aware of the contents of Mama’s will and expects to inherit, I cannot imagine her doing anything to bring her comfortable life here to a premature end.’ She shook her head, looking vexed because she couldn’t think of a compelling reason for Miss Colby to have committed murder. ‘As to Mr Barlow…’ She shuddered. ‘Well, I never did understand why Mama insisted upon being so intimate with the man. Not in the manner you appear to be thinking, Sergeant,’ she added, catching sight of Salter’s raised eyebrow. ‘But he was here all the time. However, he has independent means so I don’t suppose he did it either.’ She spread her hands. ‘You see, you are making me think like a detective—which of course is your job.’

  ‘You spoke of your mother’s will,’ Riley said when the woman finally paused to draw breath. ‘Are you acquainted with its contents?’

  ‘I am not, but she has always been scrupulously fair. Since we lived with her, she often helped my sisters out when they required it. She had become tired of their constant demands, though, I do know that much. But as I say she was always fair, so one assumes that her estate will be divided three ways.’

  ‘You will all benefit.’

  ‘Susan and Mavis certainly will, but we shall have to go to the expense of finding somewhere else to live, so no member of my family had reason to murder Mama.’ She clasped her hands together and shuddered. ‘Quite the reverse. My husband’s business prospers, so with our inheritance we could afford to purchase a house, but nothing nearly as grand as this. Our living standards and position in society will suffer.’

  That much, Riley knew, was true. Kinsley was gentry, not aristocracy, and the family was only tolerated by the ruling class because of its connection to Lady Pemberton. Riley also knew that Pamela valued that position. Even so, being at her mother’s constant beck and call and seeing her mother side with Anthea against her must have become gruelling. Perhaps Pamela had snapped, or became jealous because she thought her mother was favouring her sisters above her. Anything was possible, and Riley knew it was important to keep an open mind.

  ‘Your mother and daughter were affectionate?’

  Mrs Kinsley pursed her lips. ‘Very much so. Too much so in my opinion. It was sometimes as though I didn’t exist. I want my daughter to make a good marriage. It’s the duty of all mothers to see their daughters through to that end, but Mama insisted upon taking Anthea’s side when she got silly ideas into her head about remaining single. Becoming an ape leader.’ She gave another of her theatrical shudders. ‘I have never heard such nonsense. Mama was a supporter of that Women’s suffrage thing. Votes for women or some such nonsense. Votes for women indeed! Whatever next? Anyway, she encouraged Anthea to pursue her preposterous desire to extend her education and become a novelist when she should be out dancing and showing herself off to eligible gentlemen.’

  ‘You argued with your mother about the matter?’

  ‘Naturally I did. Athena is my child and I know what is best for her.’

  ‘She makes a compelling case for herself as the murderess,’ Salter said, once he closed the door behind the departing Mrs Kinsley.

  ‘She does indeed, Jack, but she’s far from stupid and would not have spoken so frankly if she actually was the killer.’

  ‘Perhaps she thinks she’s cleverer than we are,’ Salter grumbled, scratching his chin with the end of his pencil.

  ‘She wouldn’t be the first.’ Riley sighed. ‘Despite what she said about standards of living, she has as compelling a need to get her hands on her inheritance as her sisters do, especially if she was desperate to separate her children from her mother’s influence. Her daughter anyway. Let’s have the son in here and see what he has to say for himself.’

  Clifford Kinsley sauntered into the room smoking a cigarette. He slouched into a chair, his legs splayed. Mussed hair that hadn’t been subjected to a comb fell across his brow and his eyes were bloodshot.

  ‘What age are you, Mr Kinsley?’ Riley asked.

  ‘Twenty-two, but what’s that to do with the old girl’s death?’

  ‘The chief inspector will ask the questions,’ Salter growled, clearly having taken a dislike to the young man, as Riley had himself. ‘You are required to answer them and keep a civil tongue in your head.’

  ‘Or what?’ he asked, smirking at Salter.

  ‘Or we’ll carry on this conversation down at Scotland Yard, sunshine,’ Salter said, leaning over the man until their faces almost touched. ‘We have grey walls there what don’t show up the blood when smart young men like you need taking down a peg.’

  Riley waited until the smirk left Kinsley’s face before speaking again. ‘Were you close to your grandmother?’ he asked.

  ‘Lud, no! She tried to control everything we did, just because we lived here. Never approved of my efforts, no matter how hard I tried to please her. In the end, I gave up trying.’

  ‘How do you make a living?’ Riley asked.

  ‘Question too hard for you?’ Salter growled when Kinsley hesitated. “The chief inspector wants to know how you,”
he prodded young Clifford Kinsley’s chest none too softly, “make money.”’ Salter rubbed his thumb and the first two fingers of his right hand together in the universal gesture under the young man’s nose

  ‘I work with my father,’ he said reluctantly, ‘under sufferance.’

  ‘He told us that he has two employees.’

  ‘He does, and I’m one of them.’

  ‘And the other?’ Salter asked.

  ‘A clerk.’

  Riley and Salter exchanged a glance.

  ‘You know a lot about investments, do you?’ Riley asked.

  Kinsley shrugged. ‘Enough.’

  ‘What do you really want to be?’ Riley asked, sensing something more.

  ‘An actor,’ he said, his louche demeanour falling aside as he came alive for the first time. ‘That’s how I met Doreen…Miss Sutherland.’

  ‘Your intended?’

  ‘Yes, she lodges with my aunt Mavis.’

  ‘Explain,’ Riley said curtly.

  ‘Oh, I thought someone would have told you. My aunt and uncle run a theatre club in the Strand; the Audition. They let a few of their rooms to respectable theatre people, including Doreen.’

  ‘Your family do not approve of your desire to tread the boards, I take it.’

  ‘I should say not.’ Clifford shuddered in a manner reminiscent of his mother. ‘But the old lady didn’t mind the idea, I’ll say that for her. Doreen wanted to meet her so I brought her along to her birthday celebration.’

  ‘What do you intend to live on once you marry?’ Riley asked. ‘I assume your father doesn’t pay you enough to support a wife?’ He couldn’t even support himself, Riley thought but did not add.

  For the first time, Clifford looked sheepish and found something to attract his interest in the patterned rug beneath his feet. ‘Truth to tell, Grandmamma told me once that I would receive a modest inheritance when she turned up her toes. I was hoping that she would like Doreen once she got to know her. Doreen can be a little irreverent. She’s an expert mimic and can make people laugh. I wanted to see how they got along and then ask Grandmamma if I could have my inheritance now. That way, I could pursue my dream and support my wife. I thought Grandmamma might enjoy seeming me put her money to good use before she died.’

  ‘How did she respond to that request?’ Riley asked, thinking that the path to the old lady’s door must have been worn ragged with supplicants the previous night.

  ‘I didn’t get the chance to ask her,’ her replied, shrugging. ‘I intended to do so today, once the others had left. Too late now though.’

  Chapter Four

  Aldridge supplied Riley and Salter with a light luncheon, over which they discussed their initial impressions.

  ‘The girl seems a nice enough modern young miss,’ Salter decreed, ‘but as for the rest of ’em…’

  ‘Quite. But it seems to me that Lady Pemberton enjoyed their dependency upon her. For all her charitable ways, she was a formidable person who liked ruling the roost.’ Riley took a bite of his sandwich. ‘Kinsley is not a good provider. He depended upon his mother-in-law to support his family, and enjoys an inflated opinion of his questionable abilities.’

  Salter grunted. ‘His two employees turn out to be a reluctant son and a clerk. As to the son, we only have Clifford’s word for it that he didn’t approach his grandmother about his inheritance. He’s obviously desperate to marry Miss Sutherland and it doesn’t seem to have occurred to him that he needs to build a paying career for that purpose instead of having fancy dreams of becoming one of them thespians.’

  ‘Not a lover of the theatre, Jack?’

  Salter sniffed. ‘Prefer the music halls myself. I like a good play as well as the next man, I suppose, but it’s hardly a steady living, and those that enter the profession enjoy a collective reputation for loose morals.’

  ‘Perhaps he did,’ Riley mused, ‘speak with his grandmother, I mean, but I’m sure she would have agreed with your view regarding his preferred career path and refused him.’

  ‘So, besotted by the charms of intended and wary of losing her to a better placed rival, he decided to take matters into his own hands.’

  ‘The same thought had crossed my mind, Jack. If the old lady did indeed leave him something in her will, then he knows we will find out about it sooner rather than later. So he brought it up himself.’

  ‘And Mrs Kinsley was quick enough to point the finger of suspicion at her sisters. Her husband made it apparent that he was fed up living beneath the old woman’s roof.’ Salter dug his fingers into his scalp and had a good scratch. ‘Seems to me we have more suspects than we know what to do with—and we ain’t spoken to all of ’em yet.’

  ‘Miss Colby had a reason to be here, but no one seems to know much about Barlow.’

  His detective constables, who had joined Riley and Salter, listened attentively, particularly Peterson. Being the newest, Riley imagined he felt a need to prove himself.

  ‘What of the servants?’ Riley asked, turning to Carter for clarification.

  ‘Nothing suspicious there, sir. The maid were in a right old state. She was fond of the old girl and it came as a dreadful shock to find her dead. Reckons her mistress was right as ninepence when she helped her into bed last night, not complaining about felling unwell or nothing.’

  ‘You are satisfied that the maid didn’t touch her. It’s important.’

  ‘She says only to check that she was dead, even though it was obvious. She swears she left her the way she found her, all neat and tidy, lying on her back with her hands folded on the sheet. She remarked upon it. Said it looked odd.’

  ‘Indeed.’ Riley pondered for a moment. ‘What about the rest of the staff?’

  ‘Can’t find anyone who’d have reason to do away with her, sir.’ It was Soames who responded. ‘They have comfortable positions here. And no one saw or heard anything suspicious, other than what the parlour maid described as the usual bickering between the family members.’

  Riley wiped his hands on a napkin and nodded. ‘Have you collected up Lady Pemberton’s private correspondence?’

  ‘We have, sir,’ Peterson replied.

  ‘Very well. Go back to the Yard, the three of you, and start reading through it. I need to know of anything that suggests particularly contentious conflict between the victim and any of her family members.’

  The constables nodded and left the room.

  ‘If you’re replete, Jack, we’ll carry on.’

  Salter grabbed the final sandwich and munched it quickly. ‘Who do you want to see next?’ he asked.

  ‘Let’s have Susan Huxley in.’

  Lady Pemberton’s middle daughter came into the room, looking perfectly composed. Tall and thin, and bearing a striking resemblance to her elder sibling in all respects other than having brown hair as opposed to blonde, she seated herself calmly and looked at Riley. ‘How can I help you, Chief Inspector?’ she asked.

  ‘You came to your mother’s birthday celebration with a view to extracting money from her,’ Riley replied without preamble. ‘Was that normal?’

  ‘It’s usually the birthday person wot gets gifts; not the other way around,’ Salter added bluntly when Mrs Huxley puffed out her cheeks and gave a convincing display of outrage.

  ‘It was normal for this family,’ she replied when neither detective apologised for upsetting her. ‘My mother expected us to maintain standards. She was well aware that we were all struggling to make ends meet. It was all right for Pamela. She lived here at Mama’s expense, as did her children, who never lost an opportunity to integrate themselves with their grandmother.’

  ‘You clearly resent your sister.’

  ‘I resent the unfairness of our situation. My husband is a gentleman farmer. We have a property in Kent but struggle to make it profitable.’

  ‘Did your mother agree to give you the funds you require?’ Riley asked.

  ‘She did not. She said she had nothing to spare, which is nonsense. She would have
plenty if she did not give it away to charitable causes.’ She rippled her shoulders. ‘Charity is supposed to start at home. If Papa were still alive, he would have his priorities straight and ensure his children’s comfort before throwing money at strangers who neither deserve nor appreciate it.’

  ‘You could sell your farm and live on the proceeds,’ Salter suggested, clearly taking exception to the woman’s sense of entitlement, as indeed had Riley, despite the fact that he had been expecting it.

  ‘Impossible! It has been in my husband’s family for generations.’

  They were able to extract nothing more from Mrs Huxley, other than further evidence of the embedded resentment she felt towards her siblings. Her husband proved to be equally unforthcoming. A thin and wiry mild-mannered man, he admitted that he dreaded coming up to town for Lady Pemberton’s birthday celebrations.

  ‘She insisted upon getting us all together, then seemed to enjoy watching us at odds with one another,’ he complained. ‘She had a spiteful streak to her nature. I was all for not coming this year but Susan insisted. She worried that we would give offence and be adversely affected in the old lady’s will if we went against her wishes.’

  ‘You didn’t like your mother-in-law?’ Salter asked.

  ‘I did not, Sergeant, and nor did anyone else in this family, with the possible exception of Anthea. If anyone tries to convince you otherwise, I would strongly suspect their motives if I were you. Be that as it may, I did not kill her and have no idea who did.’ He stood. ‘There is nothing else I can tell you and I would like, with your permission, to return to Kent.’

  Riley nodded. ‘You may go. We know where to find you if we need to talk to you again.’

  ‘You’re letting him go?’ Salter looked mildly concerned. ‘Why?’

  ‘He may or may not be the guilty party, but the same could be said for all the family members. If I force them all to stay here whilst we attempt to figure it out — and it’s far from certain as things stand that we will — then there will likely be another death. We know where to find Mr Huxley if we need to, and he can’t afford to scarper. Besides, I’m becoming increasingly convinced that this is a woman’s crime.’