Chapter Three
Riley and Salter took a hansom to Islington. The leafy borough had seen a gradual spread of urbanisation over the past decades, eating into what had once been open fields and farmland. Omnibuses made it possible for clerks and artisans to join merchants and professional men living further from their employment. The slow decline of the southern half of Islington as a genteel suburb had failed to affect the status of Woodrow House, a regal and substantial building that clung tenaciously to a few acres of private grounds adjacent to Islington Green, holding progress at bay by asserting its right to exist. It sat behind massive wrought-iron gates controlled by a suspicious-looking porter who demanded to know their business and inspected their identifications at close quarters before granting them access.
‘Can’t blame me for being cautious,’ the man said, saluting Riley. ‘We get all sorts coming here trying to force their way in, like they’ve got some sort of divine right. Just ’cause the old viscount’s feeling his age don’t mean he’s gonna sell up to one of them property people who’d want to move fifty families in here, does it now?’
Riley calmly agreed that it did not and proceeded to walk up the untidy driveway with Salter at his side, noticing the air of neglect that hung like a bad smell over the once magnificent gardens. Perhaps the viscount had ceased to care about appearances.
‘Lord Woodrow has not been seen in society for a while,’ Riley told his sergeant. ‘The word is that he’s nearing the end. Hearing about the brutal demise of his youngest son will likely finish him off.’
‘I got the impression that young Roderick was a bit of a scamp. The black sheep, if you will,’ Salter remarked.
‘He was, but it’s also common knowledge that he was his father’s favourite. It’s hard to explain, but you’ll see for yourself soon enough. I won’t say more since I’d prefer to have your impressions of the family’s situation without my influencing your thinking.’
Salter nodded. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’
They were admitted to the house by a butler who addressed Riley by his title, despite the fact that both men had presented cards bearing their ranks.
‘The master is indisposed, Lord Riley,’ he said gravely, accepting their hats and coats, ‘but Mr Francis and Mr William are both at home. If you would be so kind as to wait in here I shall inform them of your presence.’
‘No Lady Woodrow?’ Salter asked when they had been left alone in a shabby drawing room that mirrored the neglect they had observed in the grounds.
‘Died a couple of years back. Francis Woodrow will inherit the title when his father goes. He lives here with his wife and children, as does William, the middle brother, who is not married.’
‘No country estate then?’ Salter asked, feigning shock. ‘What is the world coming to?’
Riley sent him a droll look. ‘The Woodrows have always resided in Islington. I hear tell that William intends to stand for Parliament.’
‘As a Tory, I assume.’
‘Your assumption is correct, Sergeant,’ Riley said, his tone reflecting his disapproval at Salter’s judgemental attitude. ‘Put your personal feelings to one side and remain objective. If you cannot manage that then Carter can help me conduct these interviews.’
‘I didn’t mean no disrespect. Someone has to represent the people’s interests in Parliament, I suppose. Still, an’ all, judging by the changes taking place around these parts, it’s by far from certain that a Tory will be elected to do the representing. Looks like the family has fallen upon hard times.’ Salter glanced around the shabby room and sniffed. ‘This place ain’t exactly salubrious, although it’s a thousand times better than my humble abode. They’ll be clinging on to the old pile out of pride, I’m guessing. I reckon Roderick left the sinking ship before he went down with it.’
‘Only to have his life cut short elsewhere.’
‘Yeah, well…’
Salter’s ruminations were interrupted by the entrance of Francis Woodrow.
‘Lord Riley,’ he said, extending his hand. Riley introduced his sergeant, but Francis apparently deemed him unworthy of the same courtesy. That would not sit well with Salter, who had already allowed his poor opinion of the privileged upper classes to cloud his judgement and had kept his own hands in his pockets anyway. ‘I am told you are here in your official capacity, which leads me to suppose that Rod had fallen foul of the law. Thank you for being discreet and coming to me in person.’ He expelled a weary sigh. ‘What has he done this time?’
Riley raised an inquisitive brow. ‘This time?’
Francis looked away. ‘Sorry, I just assumed.’ He motioned towards an arrangement of chairs and Riley took one. Salter expressed his disdain by choosing to remain standing. ‘How can I help you?’
‘Your father is indisposed, I understand.’
Francis nodded. ‘He hasn’t got much time left. Consumption, don’t you know. He seldom leaves his rooms, or his bed for that matter, but is still of sound mind. However, I would prefer not to worry him unless absolutely necessary.’
‘Lord Riley.’ William Woodrow entered the room, stiff and formal in appearance, sporting a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He looked every inch the budding politician. ‘An unexpected pleasure. Congratulations upon your forthcoming nuptials.’
‘Thank you.’
Other than casting a cursory glance in his direction, he too ignored Salter, and took a seat.
‘Since your father is unwell, gentlemen, I will break the news to you.’ Riley paused and cleared his throat. ‘I regret to tell you that your brother Roderick was found dead this morning.’
‘Dead?’ Francis shared a bemused look with William. ‘Are you sure?’
‘There is absolutely no doubt,’ Riley said softly. ‘Please accept my sincerest condolences.’
‘This will crucify father,’ Francis said, looking pale and distraught. ‘He doted on Rod.’
‘Do we have to tell him?’ William asked.
Both brothers, Riley noticed, seemed concerned about their father’s reaction but showed little sign of shock or distress about Rod’s untimely demise. It was usual for gentlemen to maintain the ubiquitous stiff upper lip in such circumstances, but even so…
‘If he reads the newspapers or receives any visitors at all,’ Riley said, ‘he will hear about it. Better if it comes from you.’
Francis nodded. ‘I will break the news to him.’ He returned his attention to Riley. ‘Under what circumstances did my brother die?’
‘I’m afraid he was murdered, which is why the particulars are bound to be reported in lurid detail.’
‘I see.’ Francis looked uncompromisingly grim.
‘I am not surprised to hear it,’ William said, recovering what little equanimity the news had caused him to lose with lightning speed. ‘Rod was a damned reckless fool and, not to put too fine a point on it, an embarrassment to his family. I don’t suppose I’m telling you anything you don’t already know, Lord Riley, what with your being one of us, but it was only a matter of time before he pushed someone too far.’
‘He won’t be embarrassing anyone now,’ Riley pointed out in a mild tone, momentarily distracted when a handsome rosewood bracket clock situated on the mantle struck the half-hour.
‘No, no, of course he will not, the poor chap.’ William stood and paced the length of the room, hands clasped behind his back. ‘You disapprove because Francis and I are not prostrate with grief?’
‘It is not my place to approve or disapprove. No two people react in the same manner to such devastating news. It will also be a little while before the full implications of my news sets in.’ He fixed William with a look of candid appraisal. ‘I understand that Roderick moved away from the family home about two years ago, presumably just after your mother died, and took up residence in Half Moon Street. May I ask why?’
‘Rod had a way about him, Lord Riley.’ It was Francis who answered, but only after a hand gesture from him had brought William’s pacing to a halt and he resumed the seat beside his brother. It was a feeble attempt to present a united front, Riley thought. ‘He never saw any reason to take life seriously, but he knew how to flatter and tease. He was excellent company and our mother simply adored him. The pater did too, but Mama…well, he could do absolutely no wrong in her eyes and every time he got into a scrape, which was frequently, and no matter how obviously he was to blame, she always took his side.’
‘My brother was spoiled and indulged,’ William added, unable to remain silent, ‘but when Mama died and our father went into decline, leaving the two of us to manage the family’s affairs, we made it clear to him that he would have either to pull his weight or go it alone. He chose the latter course.’
‘Did your father continue to see him?’
The brothers shared a bitter look. ‘He called to dine with the pater once a week,’ Francis said, ‘and the old man perked up no end whenever he saw him. Rod could make him laugh and forget about his ailments for a few hours. Sadly, William and I are not blessed with similar abilities.’
‘I am trying to ascertain how Rod financed his lifestyle,’ Riley said. ‘I cannot discover that he had any occupation, yet he lived well.’
‘I have no idea,’ William said. ‘Father no longer controls the family’s finances, Francis does, and he hasn’t given him a penny.’
‘Did he ask for financial help?’ Salter spoke for the first time.
‘No,’ Francis conceded, ‘he did not. He took a few pieces of furniture from this house, but that was all.’ He sighed. ‘Rod could charm the birds from the trees, and it’s no secret that he was popular with the ladies. I don’t like to think that he leeched from one or more of them, but I’m afraid I cannot dismiss the possibility.’
‘Any ladies in particular?’ Riley asked.
Both men shook their heads emphatically.
‘Did he make any enemies that you know about?’ Salter asked.
‘Only the husbands of every woman he flirted with, I should imagine,’ Francis replied scathingly. ‘I saw him in action with my own eyes whenever we happened to accept the same invitations. It was almost as though he went out of his way to embarrass me. On more than one occasion, I was obliged to remind him that there is such a thing as family dignity.’
‘You have probably found out that Rod was invited everywhere,’ William said, barely concealing his jealousy. ‘House parties in the summer, all the best social occasions here in town during the season. He was in great demand. All he had to do was make himself available and be amusing. He gained a reputation for being both, which was sufficient to make his presence de rigueur.’
‘If we sound disapproving or disrespectful of the dead,’ Francis said, ‘it is because Rod was in danger of tarnishing the family name beyond recall. I’m sure you can understand just how devastating that would have been for us, Lord Riley. Reputation to men in our situation is everything. Why do you think we struggle to hold on to this pile?’ He waved his arm around the shabby room to emphasise his point. ‘It’s been the Viscount Woodrow’s seat for generations, and we don’t want to go down in history as the ones who failed to keep it intact for our children. William and I struggle to keep our heads above water for that reason. Rod’s only interest was in his own pleasures, and his advice to us was to sell up and live in comfort elsewhere. That is how little his family mattered to him.’
‘When did you see him last?’ Riley asked.
‘Last Tuesday when he came here to dine with our father,’ Francis said without hesitation.
‘I saw him last night, as a matter of fact,’ William said.
‘Where?’ Riley and Salter asked together.
‘At Lady Aston’s in Beaumont Terrace. She had a soiree at which I showed my face for half an hour. You are probably aware that I intend to stand for Parliament at the next election, and Aston is one of my supporters. There were some people there that he thought I should meet and impress. I didn’t expect to see Rod though. It hadn’t even occurred to me that political talk would be his bag.’
‘Was he with anyone?’ Riley asked.
‘He had been invited to dine before the soiree began,’ William said, sounding bitter, presumably because he had not been, even though the gathering had been made up of political grandees. Further evidence of his brother’s ability to mingle with and make a good impression upon people from all walks of life.
‘Because a single man is always acceptable, if only to make up the numbers,’ Riley said, aware that William was one such and that he probably thought he would have been a more suitable selection.
‘Quite so.’
‘Did Rod leave before you?’ Riley asked.
‘No, I only stayed for a short time. He was still there, surrounded by females, when I left. He didn’t break off from the story he was telling them to wish me good night, but then that was typical of Rod.’
Riley stood and thanked the brothers. He reiterated his condolences, even though they were not grieving for their loss.
‘I shall require one of you to make a formal identification of the body in due course,’ Riley said.
‘I’ll do it,’ Francis said. ‘Let me know when and where.’
Riley assured him that he would. He and Salter returned to the entrance hall, where the butler handed their outdoor garments to them.
‘Well,’ Salter said, sniffing as the two detectives walked back down the driveway, ‘that’s me put in my place.’
‘That’s the aristocracy for you,’ Riley replied in a droll tone.
‘Not all of ’em, sir. You’re just about tolerable.’
Riley chuckled. ‘Glad to hear it, Jack. Anyway, what did you make of them?’
‘Two of the coldest fish I’ve ever encountered. They resented their younger brother’s popularity, no doubt about that.’
‘It’s difficult for the first-born son in families such as this,’ Riley said, ‘as my own brother never tires of reminding me. They have it impressed upon them from the cradle that the expectations of future generations rest upon their shoulders. William’s had it drummed into him too; just in case anything happens to Francis and he’s required to step up in his place. But Rod…well, he came along a few years later and no restraints were placed upon the development of his character.’
‘Rod embarrassed them,’ Salter said as they reached the gate and the porter saluted them as he let them out. ‘William was also jealous of him and probably thought that his brother’s propensity for flirting with other men’s wives would hamper his chances of being elected to Parliament.’
Riley smiled. ‘If every man who indulged in harmless flirtation was ostracised, society would be a very dull place. But I take your point.’ He paused as Salter hailed a hansom by placing two fingers in his mouth and letting forth a piercing whistle. The conveyance rattled to a halt beside them and they climbed into it. Riley gave the jarvey Lady Aston’s address. ‘You are wondering if William took exception to being eclipsed upon seeing his young, irresponsible brother taking centre stage at a political soiree, and decided to rid himself of the embarrassment once and for all.’
‘Well, you have to admit that there was no love lost between those brothers, and Rod seemed to enjoy creating problems for William’s ambitions. I mean, he had several invitations for last night. We’re told he had no interest in politics yet that was the one he accepted. Makes you think, so it does.’
‘In that case, have you considered the possibility of his having accepted Lady Aston’s invitation for reasons that have nothing to do with scoring cheap points against his brother?’
Salter sent Riley a sharp look. ‘What have I missed?’
‘Perhaps one of the ladies he took it upon himself to entertain was his real motivation. Anyway, here we are and we shall soon know.’
Lady Aston’s extensive terraced town house was spectacular and in considerably better shape than the Woodrows’ larger mansion. They were only kept waiting for ten minutes before the lady of the house received them.
‘Lord Riley, what a pleasure.’ A gracious lady in her fifties rose from a white Chippendale couch and extended a slender hand to Riley as he entered the room. ‘I believe both condolences and congratulations are appropriate,’ she said, smiling at Salter also when Riley made the introduction before resuming her seat and waving the detectives towards the ones opposite. This time Salter did sit, an indication that he felt more comfortable in Lady Aston’s company. ‘My butler tells me that you have called in your official capacity.’ She leaned forward, her expression mildly amused. ‘Do tell. What have I done to fall foul of the law?’
‘Nothing, Lady Aston, at least to the best of my knowledge,’ Riley replied, smiling. ‘But I do call with distressing news.’
Lady Aston’s appalled reaction when Riley imparted the news in question was everything that the Woodrows had not been.
‘But that is just terrible.’ She clutched at her wan cheeks. ‘He was here in this very room just last night, charming and entertaining as always. Who could have done such a terrible thing? But of course you must already know that he was here, which is why you are, and you have been charged with bringing his murderer to book. I am glad about that. If anyone can… How can I help, Lord Riley?’
‘Rod was popular?’
‘Oh heavens, yes. He was the best possible fun and a terrible flirt. A loveable scoundrel. So different from his brothers. Rod was all about enjoying himself and didn’t pretend otherwise. It was always the greatest possible coup for a hostess to have him accept her invitation.’
‘Forgive me, but I am surprised he accepted yours, given that the gathering was largely political and Rod had no interests in that sphere.’
Lady Aston’s eyes sparkled. ‘Ah, but I always serve a very good dinner.’
Riley smiled. ‘As I personally can attest.’
‘Do you think that Rod knew his brother would be here and came with the intention of embarrassing him?’ Salter asked.
‘I very much doubt it. Rod had little time for his family, but I’m sure her wouldn’t deliberately thwart his brother’s ambitions. He simply didn’t care enough to put himself to the trouble. Rod was a bit of a leech, I’m afraid. We all knew it, but that didn’t stop us from adoring him. One simply couldn’t help oneself. He told the most outrageously tall stories. One should have disapproved but simply couldn’t help laughing. He only had to walk into a room to light it up and make the gathering seem more interesting.’
‘What do you mean when you say he was a leech?’ Riley asked.
‘Oh, he had virtually no money. I believe he became a professional “spare man” for want of a better description. He knew we would feed and water him but in return he was required to entertain and…well, flirt.’ She chuckled. ‘I can assure you that he excelled in both capacities. Even I, at an age when I ought to know better, was not immune to his charm and I certainly didn’t mind sustaining him.’
‘Did he concentrate his charm campaign on any particular lady last night?’ Riley asked. ‘Did he come here because he expected a certain party to be present, too?’
Lady Aston shook her head. ‘No, he distributed his attentions with an even hand, but that was all part of his skill.’
‘You know of no partiality on his part?’
‘I did not say that, Lord Riley.’ Riley leaned towards her, conscious that they might be about to learn something useful. ‘This is all gossip, and I cannot vouch for the accuracy of what I have heard, but rumour has it that Lord Durand recently removed his daughter from the capital because Rod was homing in on her. Lady Laura, it seems, was quite taken by him, which I find easy to believe. Naturally, Lord Durand couldn’t countenance the match and so took his daughter away to give passions time to cool.’
‘Durand is an earl with a country seat in Yorkshire,’ Riley explained for Salter’s benefit. ‘He is an active figure in the House of Lords. His daughter has a substantial dowry, which I dare say her father would assume was the reason for Rod’s interest in her. I hope I do not speak out of turn, Lady Aston, when I explain to my sergeant that Lady Laura is a sweet girl but she has not been blessed by nature and is excruciatingly shy. Rod wouldn’t be the first fortune hunter to have her in his sights, but he would have been the most likely to succeed, given his way with the ladies. Lord Durand was sensible to remove her from temptation’s path.’
‘You have it exactly right, Lord Riley. The poor girl would have been putty in Rod’s very capable hands.’
‘What time did Rod leave here?’ Riley asked.
‘He stayed until the bitter end. It was gone one in the morning. The men mostly talked politics, I’m afraid, and Rod took it upon himself to entertain us ladies.’
‘And William Woodrow?’
Lady Aston looked momentarily confused. ‘Ah, I see what you’re getting at.’ She gave a knowing nod. ‘He didn’t stay long. He came shortly after dinner and didn’t seem best pleased to see Rod here. They barely exchanged a dozen words and William left again after about an hour.’
‘How did Rod get here?’ Riley asked.
‘Oh, I imagine he walked. It isn’t that far from Half Moon Street and he doesn’t keep a carriage.’
‘Did he leave alone?’
Lady Aston shook her head. ‘I cannot say for sure, but I did not hear anyone offer him a lift. Sorry. Is it important?’
‘Not in the least, but it would be helpful, ma’am, if you could supply me with a list of your guests.’
Lady Aston looked reluctant. ‘I can do so, Lord Riley, but is it really necessary for you to talk to them all? I am certain that none of them murdered poor Rod.’
‘So am I.’ Riley smiled his reassurance. ‘And I hope I will not need to talk to any of them. I am simply being thorough.’
‘Of course you are. How silly of me to object. Oh dear!’ She produced a handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes. ‘I really am remarkably upset over this affair, you know. So silly of me, but it seems like such a pointless waste of a life.’
‘Murder is always upsetting,’ Riley assured her, ‘and for my part I am glad that someone mourns Rod’s passing.’
‘Implying that his brothers do not.’ Her expression hardened. ‘That comes as no great surprise. It will likely be the end of the viscount, though. But I shall not be the only person to shed a tear for Rod. Half the ladies in London will fall into a state of decline. We were all susceptible to the wicked boy’s charms in our different ways, you know, but there was no harm in him.’ She sighed. ‘Anyway, that list.’
Lady Aston stood and crossed the room to an escritoire in the corner of the room, from which she produced her invitation list and handed it to Riley.
‘Thank you.’ Without looking at it, Riley folded it into his pocket. ‘I should be grateful if you would ask any other hostesses whose paths you cross to contact me if Rod had attended their gatherings over the past week or so.’
Lady Aston looked both surprised and gratified to be given the task. ‘Certainly I shall. I am glad to be of some small help.’
Riley had no more questions so reiterated his thanks, and he and Salter took their leave.
‘News of Rod’s death will be all over the capital before nightfall,’ Riley said, chuckling. ‘Lady Aston can be discreet when the need arises, but she is also as addicted to gossip as the rest of the aristocracy, and such a juicy en dit cannot possible remain secret for long. She will want to be the first to impart the news.’
‘Which is why you implied that it would be helpful if she did so, I would imagine, sir.’
‘Indeed. I want to see if a pattern emerges. If I know where he has been for the past few weeks and if any other people constantly crop up at the same events, it might point the finger of suspicion in a certain direction.’
‘If Lady Aston was so smitten, it’s easy to imagine younger females being similarly besotted,’ Salter said in a reflective tone. ‘Younger females with husbands who may have taken exception to Woodrow’s over-attentiveness.’
‘Possibly, but this was no opportunist killing. Woodrow knew his killer and was either expecting him or didn’t fear him, or he would not have invited him into his rooms.’
They passed the entrance to an alleyway mere yards from Lady Aston’s sumptuous residence, at the mouth of which several ragged youths loitered, despite the biting cold. Riley knew there would be a thieves’ kitchen at the end of that alley, accessed through an iron gate and a long narrow passage, then stairs into a cellar where the boys loitering were schooled in the art of thievery. They eyed Riley and Salter with speculative interest but were canny enough not to accost them.
Riley and Salter made their way back towards Half Moon Street as they talked, and it did indeed prove to be little more than a brisk ten-minute walk from Lady Aston’s residence.
‘He could have walked to most of the houses he was invited to, I dare say,’ Salter said, sniffing, ‘which made this address an economy in some respects. No need to hire a carriage or take cabs everywhere.’
They availed themselves of the warmth and conviviality of the Half Moon public house and partook of its indifferent fayre, not talking about the murder, or anything much else, in such a crowded location. Fortified, they left the tavern and emerged into a hail storm. Riley pulled his hat low and flagged down a passing hansom that swerved to a stop at the kerb just in front of them.
‘We have two suspects to be going on with,’ Riley said. ‘William Woodrow was tired of being eclipsed by his irresponsible brother and resented the ease with which he could ingratiate himself. William does not share that ability and I can imagine it chaffing after a while, especially when Rod appeared to do precisely as he pleased and yet his father still favoured him over his more responsible siblings.’
‘If William had lain in wait for Rod to return to his lodgings, his brother would have invited him in to discuss their grievances like gentlemen over a glass of whisky,’ Salter added.
‘Have uniformed constables ask questions of other Half Moon Street residents. A lot of people would have been coming and going late into the night. If someone was lurking in the shadows, he might have been seen. It’s worth checking.’
‘Will do, sir.’
‘I am suspicious of William,’ Riley continued pensively, ‘but whether he would actually risk committing fratricide is another matter. I think he is perfectly capable of doing so, but I somehow doubt if he possesses the wits to cover his tracks so well. He was holding something back when we spoke earlier, though, I am sure of that much. Anyway, Lord Durand is the other man with good reason to want rid of Rod. If he discovered that his daughter really was determined to follow her heart then I wouldn’t put anything past him. What lengths would a father go to in order to protect the interests of his children? That’s more your area than mine, Jack.’
Salter grinned. ‘You’ll be a married man yourself soon, sir, then it’ll likely be yours too.’
‘Which would delight my mother. Anyway, if Durand was Rod’s late-night caller and gave the impression that he was warming to the idea of the match, then Rod would definitely have let him in. He would have wanted his prospective father-in-law to see that he didn’t live like a pauper and would have offered him a drink. Remind me to ask Maynard if he finds any evidence of glass in the cut to Rod’s head that rendered him unconscious.’
‘You think the murderer whacked him with a crystal glass, accounting for the fact that two of them are missing?’ Salter looked dubious. ‘Would that be enough to knock him out?’
‘Possibly… Probably,’ Riley amended after a moment’s consideration, ‘since they are very heavy lead crystal, which is more durable than one might suppose. The rims of the glasses might be delicate but if the base was used it would have stunned him, or indeed knocked him out completely if his back had been turned when the blow was delivered and he hadn’t seen it coming. And even if he did sense danger, Rod was in his cups and with his reactions slowed by alcohol he would have been helpless. Lord Durand is a large man, and if he lost his temper whilst protecting his daughter’s interests…Anyway, we didn’t find any blood-stained objects in that room so either the killer removed whatever he used or the glass, or glasses, were the weapons.’
‘Wouldn’t there have been shards of glass on the floor?’
‘He had all night to clear up after himself.’ Riley rubbed his chin. ‘We’re dealing with a cool customer, Jack, who took considerable trouble to cover his tracks, which is why I’m not convinced it was William. But still, ask Jessie to give the room a thorough cleaning and let us know if she finds any broken glass that’s been missed.’
Salter nodded, removed his notebook from his pocket and jotted something down, cursing when the hansom jolted through a rut, sending his stubby pencil flying from his hand.
‘I am still curious about how Rod maintained his lifestyle,’ Riley mused. ‘It’s all very well getting free meals, but he still had to pay his rent, pay his tailor and subscriptions at his various clubs and so forth. Appearances have to be maintained.’
Salter gave a derisive sniff. ‘Don’t I know it.’
The conveyance stopped abruptly outside Scotland Yard. Riley paid the jarvey and alighted, followed by Salter. ‘Come along, Jack, let’s see what Carter and Soames have found out in our absence.’