Chapter Fourteen
Archer looked worn down, slumped at a chipped table in the same room that Riley had just used to interview Treadwell. His eyes drooped, implying that he had slept badly, if at all, and his hair was even wilder and more unkempt than previously. His head jerked up when Riley stepped into the room and he became a little more alert.
‘You have caused endless problems for your uncle,’ Riley said as he took a seat.
‘So he pointed out to me in no uncertain terms. That wasn’t my intention. I just didn’t think.’ He ran a hand through his dishevelled hair. ‘Will it be all right?’
‘Provided you didn’t kill Miss Mottram, yes.’
‘You know about the scheme the two of us had going. Why would I jeopardise that? Besides, I already told you, I was fond of her.’
‘I think your feelings for her ran deeper than that. I’d go so far as to say that you were in love with her.’ Archer smiled and shook his head. ‘How did you feel when you learned she was already married?’
‘Married?’ Archer’s eyes widened. Then he laughed bitterly and shook his head. ‘Nah. You’ve been misinformed.’
‘I spoke to her husband in this very room less than an hour ago.’
‘She’d left him?’ Riley nodded. ‘That explains a lot.’
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘I’m not sure.’ Archer took a moment to collect his thoughts. ‘It’s just that she seemed very worldly and self-confident. There was an awareness about her that you seldom find in spinsters. She didn’t want for male attention, but she kept everyone at arm’s length. Now I know why.’
‘Did a tall, thin, handsome man with light brown hair ever ask you about her?’
Archer thought for a moment. ‘Actually, now you come to mention it, someone did. It was months ago now, not long after Mel came to Dulwich. I hadn’t really got to know her at that time. She only dropped into the studio occasionally.’
‘But this stranger asked you about her?’ Archer nodded. ‘What did he say exactly. Think carefully. It could be important.’
‘He described Mel in detail. I knew at once who he was talking about but I told him I didn’t know her.’
‘Why? What reason did the man give for looking for her?’
‘He said he was a solicitor with information about an inheritance.’
‘But he didn’t know her name?’ Riley furled his brow. ‘Didn’t you find that odd?’
‘I did, which is why I didn’t tell him I knew her. He said she used several names, including Mottram.’
Riley mulled that snippet over. There was no doubt in his mind that Treadwell was the man, so they’d already caught him out in a lie. He had been to Dulwich looking for his wife, but had presumably chosen not to call at Vermont’s residence. Riley assumed that instead he’d waited for her to leave the house, either to come to the studio or go elsewhere, and then accosted her. Why not make that admission? It would be a natural enough thing for a deserted husband to do, especially one so keen to keep up appearances, and would make him seem less suspicious in Riley’s eyes. He sighed, tired of the fact that most suspects routinely underestimated the intelligence of Scotland Yard’s detectives.
‘Did you tell Miss Mottram about his visit?’
‘I did, and she didn’t seem unduly perturbed. She said that she had been expecting something of that nature.’ Archer paused. ‘Is the man her husband?’
‘Almost certainly. Would you be able to recognise him if you saw him again?’
‘Yes, definitely. He had unusual silver eyes that seemed a bit dead, a cleft in his chin…oh, and a large mole on the side of his neck.’
Treadwell had silver eyes. Riley hadn’t noticed a cleft and the muffler he wore had concealed his neck.
‘You notice a lot of detail.’
Archer shrugged. ‘I’m an artist. I have an eye for such things.’
‘Was anyone else in the studio the day he called?’
‘Yes, one or two people, but I can’t remember who. Sorry.’
It didn’t matter. Riley needed independent corroboration that Treadwell had in fact called, but since all his students would likely say anything Archer asked them to, their confirmation wouldn’t be worth much.
‘Returning to the subject of Miss Mottram’s unborn child, if you were not the father, would you care to hazard a guess as to who might have been?’
He shrugged. ‘Not a clue.’
‘You don’t seem particularly jealous.’
‘I was fond of Mel, but I was not in love with her, no matter what you think. It was more a case of the money we could make with her…well, my paintings. I flirted with her, I’ll admit that, and I enjoyed her company, but what I told you before is the truth. I certainly never fucked her. Perhaps her husband tracked her down and they reconciled briefly.’ He shrugged. ‘I have no idea. Mel was always flitting about from one place to the next. I wasn’t her keeper.’
‘On the night she died, you went to the railway station with your French students. You saw them off to London and then where did you go?’
‘Not back to The Crown.’
‘Why not? Your colleagues were there, waiting for you.’
‘Truth to tell, I was avoiding Rachel Bowden. We’d argued earlier in the day and left matters between us unresolved.’
‘What was the argument about?’
‘She wanted to invest in the studio.’
Riley nodded. ‘So I understand, but surely that investment would have been welcome.’
‘The investment would, but not the interference that would have come with it. I already have a partner. Ray and I like to do things our way, which is an informal open-door policy. Rachel has higher ambitions. She wants to make the studio elitist, which runs in the face of our efforts to encourage artistic talent in the lower and middle classes.’ Archer glanced down at his hands and sighed. ‘Besides, she wants to be more than just my business partner and I don’t think of her that way. I told you when we spoke before that I have to keep her sweet.’
‘Why, if she’s causing you problems?’
Archer hunched his shoulders. ‘She can be vindictive. The art world is a pretty close-knit community, and if she starts talking us down it could set back everything I’ve tried to achieve. Anyway, she misinterpreted the reasons for my attentions and took exception to my friendship with Mel, becoming increasingly possessive and jealous. Mel used to laugh at her behind her back, warning me to watch my step because she was out to trap me.’
‘You and Rachel Bowden argued about Miss Mottram?’
‘In part. She asked me outright what my intentions were. I’m afraid I lost my temper and told her to mind her own damned business. Ask Uncle Jack about my famous temper. I’ve always been hot-headed, which is why my uncle doesn’t approve of me. It ain’t the first time I’ve spoken without thinking about the consequences. Still, I expect Rachel will move on now, which will probably be for the best.’
‘You wanted to avoid Miss Bowden, but you still haven’t told me where you went.’
Archer stared at the ground. ‘I went back to the studio. I live there, remember, and I painted until the early hours. Couldn’t say what time I quit. I lose all track of time when I get absorbed in my work and unfortunately I have no one who can vouch for my being there. Ray was and still is away. I don’t suppose he’s even heard about Mel yet. He’ll be upset. He liked her.’
‘The knife used to kill Miss Mottram. The one that belonged to Miss Bowden. She tells us that you offered to get it repaired for her, so it must have been in your possession.’
‘Nah! She’s making trouble for me because we argued. Don’t be taken in by that innocent façade, inspector. Underneath it all, Miss Bowden is as hard as nails. She’s accustomed to getting what she wants and not too fussy about how she goes about getting it. When she complained about the knife, I reminded her that there’s a shop in the village that would be able to tighten the handle for her, but I swear on my life that I never offered to get it repaired for her.’ He leaned back in his chair, seeming more relaxed now. In spite of everything, Riley liked him and didn’t want him to be the guilty party. ‘She’s perfectly capable of taking it into the shop herself, but she tried to get me to run the errand for her as a way of…I don’t know. Baby steps, intimate little favours designed to bring us closer together, I suppose. Anyway, I didn’t fall for it.’
‘So where would it have been?’
Archer shrugged. ‘On her table, I suppose, where she kept all her other supplies. Anyone could have taken it, inspector, but it wasn’t me.’
A tap at the door prevented Riley from asking his next question. He glanced up when Carter put his head around it. Riley excused himself and joined his constable in the corridor outside. Carter looked excited.
‘What did you find out?’ Riley asked.
‘Well, sir, Manson was a bit cagey at first, but I came down heavy on him and he admitted that Archer had been to see him the afternoon before. He wanted to discuss how best to exploit the lady’s death, just as you thought. Anyway, here’s the interesting bit, he took several unframed canvases with him. Supposedly self-portraits of Miss Mottram, but of course Archer painted them.’ He paused, grinning. ‘And they’re nudes. Very explicit nudes at that.’
‘Heavens.’ Riley flexed both brows, unsure if he was repelled or if he admired Archer’s enterprise. ‘What did Manson say about them?’
‘That they were masterpieces. Nothing’s left to the imagination and the lady looks sultry, slightly mysterious and perfectly comfortable with her nakedness. That made me think that she must have been comfortable with the artist, too. He said they’d sell for a fortune since the lady had been brutally murdered.’ Carter rubbed his hands. ‘I’m sorry for Sergeant Salter, and all that, but he can’t be held responsible for the actions of his relatives. I’d say we’ve got our man, sir.’
Riley thought it was beginning to look that way too, but remained to be convinced.
‘There’s more you should know, sir.’ Carter’s eyes gleamed with excitement. ‘I caught a glimpse of Treadwell earlier. He came in with Peterson just as I left to go to Bond Street. Sergeant Barton told me who he was. I got a good look at him then. And I got another good look when he went into the gallery just as I was leaving it. I held the door open and he thanked me. It was definitely him.’
Riley’s head jerked up. ‘Did he recognise you?’
‘No, I don’t think he saw me here earlier, and he barely looked at me in Bond Street. Preoccupied, so he was.’
‘Right. Good work, Carter.’ Riley took a moment to think about his next course of action. ‘When I’m finished here, go back to Bond Street with Soames and find out what Treadwell wanted. I need to know if he introduced himself as Miss Mottram’s husband and whether he saw the nude paintings. Then take yourself to Dulwich and track down all the regulars at the studio. Treadwell accosted Archer there about five months ago. You know what the man looks like. Circulate his description and see if anyone else saw him. It’s vitally important, Carter. Take the rest of the day and we’ll reconvene here tomorrow morning.’
‘Very good, sir.’
Riley returned to the interview room and resumed his seat. ‘Nude paintings,’ he said, fixing Archer with a hard stare.
‘Ah, those.’ Archer’s head fell forward. ‘Didn’t take you long to find out about ’em.’ He made it sound like an accusation.
‘You could have saved me the trouble by telling me yourself. Surely you appreciate their relevance.’
‘Yeah, course I do.’ He sat forward and leaned his elbows on the table. ‘But I knew what Uncle Jack’s reaction would be. He has a very low opinion of me. I can’t ever do anything to impress him, hard though I try, and this sure as hell won’t help none.’
‘You would be better served to think of ways to avoid having your head put in a noose rather than concerning yourself with impressing your relatives,’ Riley said, an edge to his voice. ‘Now tell me about the paintings. Obviously, Miss Mottram didn’t do them herself.’
‘No, I did, and before you throw accusations at me, they were her idea.’
‘I’m told they’re explicit, which is why you said earlier that she seemed experienced in the ways of the world.’
‘Right.’
‘You hadn’t decided upon your scheme to pass your own work off as hers at that point, so why did she offer to pose in the nude for you?’
Archer threw back his head. ‘I’ve often asked myself the same question. It’s…well, it’s almost as though she needed reassurance. That she didn’t feel beautiful and needed to see herself through someone else’s eyes.’
‘You saw an opportunity to exploit her death by offering the paintings to Manton?’
‘Not my finest hour, I’ll admit, but we all have to demean ourselves if we crave recognition.’
‘The paintings will be sold as yours, exploiting Miss Mottram’s death to increase their value.’
Archer studied his hands. ‘Something of that nature.’
Riley lost patience. ‘Do you realise how guilty this makes you look? Miss Mottram being the face of your paintings was a compelling reason for you to want her alive. But if you’re about to achieve public acclaim on the back of her death…’
‘I can see that perhaps I should have held back, if only out of respect, but then the moment would have passed. And I’ll tell you this for nothing. Mel will be looking down from wherever she now is, applauding my initiative.’ He lowered his voice. ‘She will receive the acclaim she craved, albeit from beyond the grave.’
Riley nodded. ‘Very well. You can go, for now.’
Archer raised both brows. ‘I can?’
‘Don’t stray from your usual routine. We will talk again, and soon.’
‘Very well. Thank you.’
Archer sauntered from the room, looking relieved to still have his freedom.
‘You letting ’im go?’ Salter asked, standing behind his desk and catching a glimpse of Archer’s retreating form.
‘I am indeed, Jack.’
Salter scratched his head. ‘But I thought Danforth told you to arrest him.’
‘I shall conduct this investigation as I see fit.’
Riley motioned to Salter and his two constables to follow him into his office.
‘Close the door, Carter.’
Once they were assured of privacy, Riley recapped the interview with Archer. Salter looked fit to explode.
‘The conniving idiot! Doesn’t he realise how that looks?’
‘Everyone seems to be lying to us, sir,’ Soames remarked. ‘Including Treadwell.’
‘But especially Reggie,’ Salter groused.
‘Actually, Jack, I think he’s the only person who’s been entirely honest with us.’
‘You do?’ Salter blinked at him. ‘Why?’
‘He’s the only man who wasn’t in love with the girl. He wants to get ahead in the art world and saw an opportunity. Or, more to the point, our victim put the idea of an opportunity into his head.’
Salter rubbed his chin. ‘You telling me he spent hours closeted with the naked gal and didn’t take advantage?’
‘That’s my view. If I had to arrest anyone as things stand, it would be the husband. I really hope that Parker’s man comes through quickly with more background on him. That will help no end, but in the meantime Carter and Soames have their instructions.’ His two constables nodded and left the room. ‘As for you and me, Jack, we’re going to have a heart to heart with Daniel Vermont.’
‘Why?’
‘Because it’s beyond time that he told us the truth. I’m tired of being lied to.’
‘Best get going smartish then, sir. Danforth was on the prowl earlier, wanting a progress report. Of course, he was really just checking to make sure I wasn’t in on Reggie’s interview.
‘Right. Get your hat, Jack. We’ll have a bite of lunch in Dulwich, then corner Daniel.’
Riley’s concerns about interference from Lord Vermont proved unfounded, since they found Daniel at Lyndenhurst alone.
‘Come along in, Lord Riley,’ he said affably. He looked terrible, Riley thought. His eyes were bloodshot, his features etched with fatigue. ‘Have you come to report any progress.’
Riley took the seat in the drawing room that Daniel ushered him towards and declined his offer of refreshments. ‘Actually, I’ve come to ask you to tell me the truth.’ He held up a hand to prevent Daniel’s interruption. ‘I think I know it and can prove it, if needs be, but would prefer to hear it from you.’
Daniel’s erect posture crumpled like a house of cards. ‘What do you think you know?’ he asked in a defeated tone.
‘That’s not the way it works,’ Riley said, his tone commanding. ‘I ask the questions and you answer them honestly. I am under pressure to make an arrest, and if your answers don’t satisfy me I will take you into custody. Never doubt it. Your father’s status won’t save you. Now then, you did see Miss Mottram after you dined with your father, didn’t you?’
Riley silently congratulated himself when Daniel gave a reluctant nod. Little more than instinct and logic had brought him here today. He had no definitive proof that Daniel’s involvement with Miss Mottram was anything more than wishful thinking on his part, and he certainly didn’t have enough evidence to arrest him. Besides, he had yet to be convinced that Daniel was the actual killer.
‘I did. The message I sent to my landlady was to the effect that I would meet her at the Danby exhibition as soon as I could get away. I knew it was open late that evening and that she’d wait for me. We had things to discuss.’
‘Why not simply say so in the first place?’ Salter asked.
‘It was the night she was killed. That would have made me the last person to see her alive—other than her killer, of course. I couldn’t take that chance. Besides, I’d told Father that I’d broken it off, which I had, but we remained friends…’
‘Because of the baby?’ Riley asked.
Daniel kept his gaze focused on the floor, but nodded. ‘Yes, the child was mine.’
‘How long had the affair gone on for?’
‘There was no affair as such. But I was in love with her, and I wanted to marry her. When an opportunity arose to sneak her into my rooms when my landlady was playing bridge and she willingly gave herself to me, admitting that she returned my love, I thought all my Christmases had come at once.’ He sighed. ‘Then she told me the real reason why she’d left Devon.’ He shook his head. ‘Talk about hitting below the belt. I knew there was something about her that seemed…well, experienced…but I never for one moment thought that she’d been married. And still was.’
‘That must have made you very angry,’ Salter said. ‘You were in love with her and she was amusing herself with you.’
‘Sad, not angry. She loved me in return, I’m sure of it, otherwise she wouldn’t have allowed passion to win out over common sense. We only risked sharing a bed once and…well—’
‘All the more reason for you to want rid of her,’ Salter pointed out. ‘You’d have a bastard to support. You were willing to defy your father and marry a penniless chit, which is why you persuaded her into your bed, thinking it would make her more likely to agree, especially if there was issue from that liaison. But when she discovered her condition, far from agreeing to marry you, she told you the truth about her circumstances, and it changed everything. You told us yourself that you wouldn’t have married her even if she had divorced her husband. Was that a lie, too?’
‘No, sergeant, it was not, but only because Mel was adamantly determined not to marry for a second time, even when she was free to do so. She wanted to explore her artistic talent. She said her husband curtailed her ambitions in that regard.’
‘Did she explain why she felt compelled to walk out on her husband?’ Riley asked.
Daniel shook his head. ‘I asked her, but other than the comment about him disapproving of her art, there was little else. She said something vague about being undervalued. Besides that, she wouldn’t talk about it.’
‘Right, so you met her that night to discuss her situation. You knew that her condition would soon show and that would give your step-mother a legitimate reason to dismiss her.’ Riley paused. ‘It was you who suggested that she put the idea of supporting her artistic endeavours into Lady Vermont’s mind, was it not?’
Daniel nodded. ‘I am not Virginia’s greatest fan. She’s pretentious, ignores the girls, and she and my father seem to think that I will put aside my personal aspirations in order to save the family’s position.’ He shrugged. ‘I dare say I will have to now. But I didn’t see how a little revenge to help Mel’s future could do any harm. She wasn’t interested in becoming my mistress, and in truth I didn’t want her to. It wouldn’t have been enough for me, you see, and I would have been riven with jealousy, wondering what other men she’d been with. She was a free spirit, like many artistic types are, so I knew there would be other men. A clean break once she left this house would have been the best way forward for us both, but she had my assurance that I would support our child, and she knew I would keep my word.’
‘So you saw Miss Mottram at the exhibition, then escorted her to the railway station and put her on a train.’
Daniel nodded. ‘I did, Lord Riley, and that’s the last time I saw her.’ He fixed Riley with a direct look as his eyes flooded with tears. ‘And would give everything I own to have escorted her all the way home.’
‘What did you make of that, sir?’ Salter asked when they left the house.
‘At last we’re getting nearer to the truth.’
Salter grunted. ‘If he didn’t kill her, he could have told us sooner and saved us chasing our tails.’
‘He’s right to say that it would have made him look guilty. He was the father of her unborn child. He was madly in love with her and determined to marry her, then discovered that she was already married. Plus he’s the last person we’ve found so far who’s admitted to being with her on the night she died.’
‘We have people who saw her leave the train here in Dulwich.’
‘Yes, but Daniel doesn’t know that. Besides, he could have been on the train in a different carriage and got past her in the crowd of passengers getting off the train. He would have known that she used the side gate and been lying in wait for her in the orchard. However, I don’t think he was. Besides, the knife.’
‘What made you guess that he was the father of her child?’
‘Process of elimination. I believed Reggie when he said that their relationship was all about art and the mutual desire to make a success of it.’ Salter grunted but couldn’t entirely hide his relief. ‘She wouldn’t have given herself to Renshaw again. He had ceased to exist in her eyes. But Daniel was both well-connected and personable. In other words, he could be useful to her. I think she had her fingers burned in her marriage for reasons I have yet to discover, but she was still anxious to be loved for herself.’
‘Aye, and Daniel was helpful to her. He found a way to get his father to put his name behind her work without realising he was being manipulated.’
‘Exactly.’
They walked towards the station at a brisk pace. ‘I’m willing to cross all the Vermonts off the suspect list, and Peter Renshaw, too. That leaves us with Treadwell, Miss Bowden and—’
‘And Reggie,’ Salter said, grimacing. ‘So, what now?’
Darkness had fallen. ‘Now we go home, Jack. I want to hear what Parker’s man has found out about Treadwell. Hopefully there will be something for us by the morning. Then we will talk to him again, and to Miss Bowden.’