Chapter Four
The impressive college buildings were situated on sixty acres of Dulwich common and provided employment for a vast number of locals in various capacities; most of them menial. Occasional scuffles broke out in the village between senior boys and local residents, but on the whole the elite establishment went about the business of educating the country’s next batch of doctors, lawyers and politicians without creating too much discord.
‘Nice schooling if you can afford it,’ Salter remarked, sniffing as he looked up at the façade of the rambling building. They watched a number of adolescents running the length of a rugby pitch, tossing a ball before being tackled to the ground and yelled at by a master who ran up and down the sidelines with a whistle in his mouth. Master and boys seemed impervious to the biting cold.
Upon being admitted to the grounds by a porter and asked their business, Riley presented his credentials and asked to see the master. They were conducted to a small ante-room that would have benefited from a fire, its spartan interior reflecting the detectives’ less than fulsome welcome.
‘Ever felt unloved, sir?’ Salter asked with another disgruntled sniff.
‘We won’t be kept waiting for long. This sort of establishment doesn’t want policemen stirring up their routine.’
‘We’ll do more than stir the pot if we think someone here killed the poor lass.’
‘That we will, Jack.’
The door opened. ‘The master will see you now, gentlemen.’
A prefect led them across a wide flagstoned entrance hall and up a small flight of stairs. Trophy cabinets lined the walls, recording past successes. A board listing names of head boys past and present took up a significant spot. The prefect tapped on a door and upon being invited to enter, dutifully turned the handle and stood to one side.
‘Your visitors, sir.’
‘Thank you, Paulson.’
Paulson withdrew and closed the door quietly. Riley thought it interesting but not surprising that the lad hadn’t known they were Scotland Yard detectives. If he had, he wouldn’t have looked so disinterested and their identity would have spread through the ranks of the students and thence onto their parents faster than Riley’s sister-in-law could spend fifty guineas. He knew from experience that those charged with running establishments such as this one put reputation before all else. Gaining their cooperation in a murder investigation, even if Riley suspected someone here to be the culprit—especially then—would, he also knew, be an uphill struggle.
The man who stood from behind an ornate desk to greet them wore a traditional scholar’s gown and an air of self-importance. He subjected both men to scathing appraisals, but his rigidity lessened when he took in Riley’s pristine apparel.
‘I am Doctor Hayward, master of this establishment. How may I be of assistance to Scotland Yard?’ he asked. ‘I cannot imagine any of the high-spirited pranks carried out by our boys being sufficiently serious to warrant the attention of two such senior officers.’ He glanced at the card which Riley had given to the porter and which had found its way into the master’s hands. His tone remained condescending, bordering on the impolite. Riley disliked him on sight.
‘We require your assistance.’ Riley’s refined accent caused an immediate alternation in the master’s attitude.
‘You are Lord Riley Rochester.’ He made it sound like an accusation. ‘Your reputation precedes you, my lord. I have read about your successes in tracking down dangerous criminals and commend your dedication to a career that few would select through choice, as you appear to have done.’ He scratched his ear. ‘But that only makes your presence here harder to fathom.’ He waved Riley to a chair, which he declined to take, obliging Hayward to remain standing also. Salter leaned against the closed door, pencil poised. ‘However, you are assured of my complete cooperation.’ Riley doubted that, but allowed the untruth to pass unchallenged. ‘How may I be of assistance, Lord Riley?’
‘We would like your help in discovering the identity of a tutor from this establishment seen in heated conversation with a young local lady a short time ago.’
Dr Hayward frowned. ‘I do not encourage members of my teaching staff to associate with local females,’ he replied haughtily. ‘Besides, there are twenty members of the teaching faculty. Without a name I don’t see how—’
‘If we had a name, we wouldn’t need your help,’ Salter growled.
‘Your tutors don’t frequent the local taverns?’ Riley raised a sceptical brow. ‘The majority of your students are day boys, I understand.’
‘They are. We do have some boarders but they are housed in the village in the homes of local women approved by our governors as being of good moral character…ah, I see your point. You imagine a tutor had reason to speak to a landlady regarding the conduct of one of the boys. If you give me the name of the boy, we can narrow the matter down. Although why you didn’t simply ask the landlady… I assume she has complained to you about some impropriety.’ He looked a little flustered. ‘I dare say it’s all a misunderstanding and there is no need for your involvement.’
‘It’s a little more than a misunderstanding, Dr Hayward. The lady in question is dead.’ Riley paused for emphasis. ‘Murdered.’
‘Dear God!’ Dr Hayward looked shocked, but Riley suspected that he was already assessing what impact, if any, a local murder would have on his school’s reputation. ‘I have not heard of any of our landladies being murdered.’
‘I didn’t say that the victim had any connection to your school,’ Riley replied.
‘Surely you noticed all the police activity across the road earlier,’ Salter added.
‘I did not, sergeant. I have better things to do with my time than to gawp at situations which don’t concern me.’
‘Lord Vermont’s governess has been brutally murdered,’ Riley replied, ‘and she was recently seen involved in an altercation with a member of this faculty. I appreciate your willingness to cooperate with our investigation,’ even though you have shown precious little of it thus far, ‘and should be grateful for the names of the younger tutors.’
Dr Hayward spread his hands in an unconvincing display of regret. ‘I have the interests of my students to consider, Lord Riley. I cannot have them upset by—’
Salter stepped forward and slapped the flat of his hand down onto the polished surface of the master’s desk, causing his ink well to wobble and the master himself to flinch. ‘We don’t give a tuppenny damn about your students’ interests,’ he said, pushing his face close to that of the astonished master, a man who was clearly not accustomed to having his decrees challenged or his space invaded. ‘A young woman has lost her life in the most brutal of fashions and you are worried about your precious reputation. Where’s your compassion, man?’
‘That will do, sergeant,’ Riley said, his tone mildly reproving. ‘My sergeant and I have different methods of achieving the same outcome, Dr Hayward. You can either lend us your assistance and we will conduct our enquiries as discreetly as possible and with the minimum of disruption to your regime.’ Riley’s tone hardened, ‘or we will send in an army of uniformed constables to speak with every tutor and senior boy in the establishment.’ Dr Hayward’s complexion paled. ‘The choice is yours.’
Hayward pursed his lips and, with an air of arrogant disdain that failed to disguise the perspiration that had sprung to his brow, reached into a drawer and withdrew a slim folder. He reached for pen and ink and copied down a list of names—four in total—passing it to Riley.
‘There are only four tutors in this establishment who are young enough to fit your description, Lord Riley. Vacancies seldom arise, you see, which means the teaching staff tend towards the more mature. Anyway, these are their names, but I can personally vouch for each and every one of them.’
‘Thank you.’ Riley glanced at the list. Teachers of Latin, English and History graced the list, as did the games teacher—presumably the man they had just seen on the sidelines during rugby practise. ‘We would like to speak with each of them individually. Now.’
‘Now? But they are in the middle of lessons.’
‘Even so.’ Riley paused. ‘Is there a room we can use?’
Hayward capitulated and had them shown into the same ante-room they had previously occupied.
Bewildered young academics were shortly paraded before them. The first three seemed genuinely shocked by news of a murder and were able to satisfy Riley that they had no connection with Miss Mottram. The games teacher on the other hand, looking windswept and anxious, engaged Riley’s interest the moment he walked through the door.
‘Peter Renshaw?’ Riley asked, consulting his list.
‘Yes. How may I help you gentlemen? What’s this about? No one said.’
I am Inspector Rochester of Scotland Yard’s Detective Department and this is Sergeant Salter. You know why we are here?’
‘Sorry, not a clue. I was simply told that two visitors wished to speak with me. I assumed you must be parents, here to complain because their son wasn’t appointed captain of some team or other, despite the fact that he would have been worse than useless.’ He chuckled. ‘I know that because only the parents of the boys who aren’t natural leaders find it necessary to take up the cudgels on their behalf. It happens all the time.’
‘It’s a little more serious than that, I’m afraid.’ Riley folded his hands on the surface of the small table he’d situated himself behind and gave the young man his full attention. Heather had described the man she’d seen arguing with the victim as tall, lean and with lots of sandy-coloured hair. Renshaw fitted that description to a tee, as well as being moderately handsome. ‘You are acquainted with Miss Melanie Mottram?’
Riley noticed genuine fear flare in his eyes. ‘Oh God!’ he dropped his head into his splayed hands, making Riley think they were about to get a confession just a couple of hours after launching their investigation. ‘What’s she said about me?’
‘She hasn’t said anything,’ Riley replied. ‘She cannot because she’s dead.’
‘Dead?’ Renshaw’s head shot up. ‘No! Don’t be ridiculous. There must be some mistake. I saw her quite recently and she was in the very best of health.’
‘Well, she ain’t now,’ Salter said bluntly. ‘Course, having a sodding great knife thrust into her back might account for that.’
‘Don’t be so offensive, sergeant.’ Tears welled in Renshaw’s eyes. ‘Have a little respect.’ He glanced up at Riley, hope etched in his features. ‘Is she really dead? Are you sure it’s her? Could there possibly be some mistake?’
‘There’s no mistake, unfortunately,’ Riley replied, unable to decide if Renshaw was a superb actor or a cold-blooded killer who now regretted snapping in the heat of the moment. If the latter, he would have anticipated this interview and had time to perfect his blustering denials. ‘Tell me how you came to be acquainted with Miss Mottram.’
‘I met her last year at Founders Day. Lord Vermont is one of the college’s governors.’ Riley shared a brief look with Salter, thinking Vermont had omitted to mention the fact. But then again, why would he? He had no reason to suppose that his children’s governess was killed by anyone connected to the college. Riley himself had yet to decide if she had been. ‘Lady Vermont was indisposed but Miss Mottram attended the event in her stead.’
Riley flexed a brow. ‘With Lord Vermont?’
‘No, sir, she was accompanied by Mr Daniel Vermont.’
‘I see. And she came to your attention how?’
‘She came to the attention of every red-blooded male in the place.’ Renshaw shook his head. ‘She was difficult to overlook. Vibrant, beautiful, a trifle irreverent and full of fun. It was obvious that some of the other ladies didn’t approve of her vivacious character, but if she noticed their censure, it failed to curb her spirit. Mel is…was… very much her own person.’ Renshaw rubbed his eyes with the back of one hand. ‘I tell you true, inspector, she was a breath of fresh air in this otherwise stuffy and traditional establishment.’
‘You fell in love with her,’ Riley said.
‘Not straight away, but I certainly felt drawn towards her. There was a varsity football match between Dulwich and Camberwell colleges on Founders Day which I refereed. Mel sat on the sidelines with the other ladies but soon became engrossed in the game and cheered our side on without reserve.’ He chuckled. ‘No one will convince me that her enthusiastic support didn’t spur eleven adolescent boys to their best performance. Camberwell were a better side than us and we’d resigned ourselves to a thrashing, but we roundly beat them that day.’ Renshaw sighed. ‘I sought Mel out afterwards and thanked her for her help. She laughed and said it had been her pleasure and that those of us in the field of education had a duty to help one another.’
‘You knew she was Lord Vermont’s governess?’
‘Not immediately. I assumed she was a relation of some sort. She certainly seemed to be on very relaxed terms with her employer and his son, you see.’ Renshaw’s throwaway comment reinforced Riley’s suspicions regarding both Vermont men. ‘We talked for some time, until Daniel Vermont came and took her away. But before he did, I discovered that she sometimes walked out in the evenings, if the weather was fine. So I camped outside of Vermont’s house every night that I could get away, until I finally saw her and pretended it was a chance encounter.’ He sighed. ‘I expect that seems pathetic to you.’
‘You are not the first man to find yourself attracted to a beautiful woman,’ Riley replied.
‘Well anyway, occasionally she’d let me take her to the Greyhound and buy her a glass of sherry. But she’d never tell me in advance when she was likely to be free…’
‘She kept you dangling,’ Salter said. ‘That must have grated after a while.’
‘I took what I could get of her, sergeant. You don’t cage a free spirit.’
‘What did she tell you about her background?’ Riley asked.
‘Not a great deal. Just that her family lived in Devon and that she was glad to have escaped the dullness of that county.’
‘You wanted to marry her.’ Riley posed the question as a statement of fact.
‘I did. I thought we were ideally suited, both being teachers, after a fashion. I have good prospects here and could have given her a comfortable life, but I’m sorry to say that when I found the courage to make my proposal she laughed in my face.’
‘Which must have infuriated you,’ Salter said.
Renshaw shrugged. ‘I had no intention of giving up on her. She said she had grander plans but I knew that reality would eventually make her see sense.’
‘What did she mean by grander plans?’ Riley asked.
‘I have no idea. I assumed she intended to find a better position.’
‘She was already employed by a viscount,’ Riley pointed out.
‘I know she wanted to find a situation closer to the heart of London because she mentioned something about it once in passing.’ Riley nodded, thinking that could be why she hadn’t intended to stay too long in Lord Vermont’s employ. ‘She went up to London on her afternoons off because she loved the vibrancy of the city and all the exhibitions that the museums and exhibitions mounted at the various galleries. I couldn’t offer to go with her because of my duties here.’
‘What about in the holidays?’ Riley asked. ‘You would have been free to accompany her then.’
Renfrew shook his head. ‘I supplement my income by giving private lessons to some of the less able boys during the holidays. Although I am qualified in mathematics, there are no vacancies in establishments I would consider so I’m reduced to teaching games. I want to accrue a better reputation in academic circles, you see, so that I won’t always be confined to sports fields. Besides, the extra income meant that I would be able to offer Mel a more comfortable future once I had worn down her resistance and made her see reason.’ He gave a puerile grin. ‘I can be very persuasive when I put my mind to it and never give up if there’s something I want badly enough.’
‘But you have already told us that Miss Mottram was aiming higher,’ Salter said. ‘She told you she had a fatter pigeon in mind and you lost your temper with her.’
‘Rubbish!’
‘You were seen arguing with her just a few weeks ago,’ Riley remarked. ‘Tell me about that.’
‘I was vexed with her, it’s true. I’d gone to considerable trouble to arrange some time away so that I could take her to an exhibition of Chinese porcelain in London that she was anxious to see. I sent her a note, saying the arrangements were in hand, but she replied to tell me she’d had a change of heart. My response…well, I wasn’t proud of what I said in the heat of the moment, but she could be that exasperating. I threatened to call at Lord Vermont’s house to confront her unless she met me on the common to talk it through.’
‘You thought she’d found someone else to escort her,’ Salter said. ‘I can see how that would have infuriated you. You thought she was treating you as a last resort.’
‘I love her.’ He dropped his head into his hands. ‘Loved her. I don’t expect you to understand, but that’s what happened. She was alive and well when we parted. I gave her time to come to her senses. She always knew when she’d pushed me too far, and she would be nice to me again for a while. It was as if she didn’t want me, but didn’t want to lose me either. As I say, it was exasperating. Oh lud, I’m making myself sound guilty, but I can assure you that I am not.’
‘When did you last see her?’ Riley asked.
‘When we met on the common and argued. I kept my distance after that, giving her time to realise how unreasonable she was being.’ He spread his hands. ‘I decided that there was only so much grovelling I was prepared to do. Her feelings for me didn’t match mine for her and likely never would have, but we could have made a life together and I wasn’t prepared to put up with shoddy treatment indefinitely.’ He ran a hand through his tousled hair and sighed. ‘Now I would relish the opportunity.’
‘How long have your taught here?’ Riley asked.
‘This is my first year. I was lucky to get the position. The mathematics master is only two years away from retirement and the chances are that I will take his place. That’s what Mel failed to comprehend. I wouldn’t have been stuck teaching games indefinitely. Teachers of mathematics in establishments such as this are highly respected.’
‘Where are you from?’
‘Southampton. My parents own a hardware store but wanted better for me. They scrimped and saved so that I could have the best education. I want them to be proud of me.’
‘Can you account for your movements yesterday afternoon and evening?’ Riley asked.
‘Why?’ He widened his eyes. ‘Surely you don’t think I could possibly have…’ He sighed. ‘Well of course you do. It’s your duty to be suspicious and I have just admitted that I love Mel although she sometimes drove me to distraction.’ He paused. ‘Let me see. I was here all day and have dozens…hundreds of witnesses to attest to the fact. I finished my duties at five in the afternoon. I usually have games practise to supervise after school hours, and yesterday was no exception.’
‘It was Miss Mottram’s afternoon off. Did you see her leaving Lord Vermont’s property?’ Riley asked.
‘No. Village Way isn’t visible from school grounds.’
‘But you knew it was her afternoon off,’ Salter surmised.
‘Oh yes, I knew it and of course I wondered where she would be spending it. And with whom. Yesterday was the day I’d planned to take her to the exhibition, you see.’
Interesting, Riley thought. He’d found no catalogue for the exhibition amongst her possessions.
‘The day on which you had arranged time off,’ Salter pounced.
‘Yes, but when she had a change of heart I cancelled those arrangements. The last thing I needed was time on my hands and no one to spend it with. I preferred not to be at leisure to brood about Mel’s behaviour. And believe me, inspector, twenty young men ready and willing to knock the living daylights out of one another in the name of sport takes one’s entire concentration and leaves no time for brooding. Ask Braithwaite if you doubt my word. He’d offered to take rugger practise for me, but I told him I didn’t need him to step in after all.’
Riley nodded, prepared to believe it since Miss Mottram had caught the train back from London in the evening, as proven by the ticket they’d found in her purse. Of course, they would have to confirm that it was an evening train she’d caught, but since she had discharged her duties at Lyndenhurst until noon, it seemed unlikely that she would have gone up to town and returned again, all within the space of the afternoon.
‘You were here until five,’ Salter said, pencil poised. ‘What then.’
‘I returned to my rooms. I am in a lodging house in the village.’ He reeled off the address. ‘My landlady, Mrs Higgins, had supper prepared for me, which I ate, then I retired to my rooms for the rest of the night. I’m sorry, but I was alone and so cannot prove it.’
‘Do you have any idea who might have wished Miss Mottram harm?’ Riley asked, watching the young man closely as he awaited his response.
‘Sorry, but no.’ Renshaw gave an emphatic shake of his head. ‘She could be exasperating, but when she favoured a person with her full attention, it made you feel as though you were the most important person in the universe. And she was very circumspect when it came to giving out information about her activities. Of course, that lent her an air of mystery that made her even more alluring.’ He let out a long sigh. ‘I don’t delude myself into supposing that I was her only suitor, but I was probably the most impecunious.’ He shrugged. ‘Someone to fall back on when desperate. I knew it and simply didn’t care, thinking she’d realise given time that she had everything she desired in me, which brings my self-respect into question, I suppose.’
‘You mentioned that she was escorted to the Founders’ Day by Mr Vermont. Didn’t you find it odd that she was there at all, and in the company of a viscount’s heir, no less?’
‘She told me that she was acting in Lady Vermont’s stead. Her ladyship was expected, her attendance catered for, and Lord Vermont didn’t want to upset the arrangements.’
‘Did Mr Vermont seem familiar with her?’
‘I cannot say that I noticed, but I rather think not.’
Riley thanked the young man, told him they would likely need to speak with him again, and he and Salter left the college.
‘What did you make of that, sir?’ Salter asked.
‘Not sure he’s a killer by nature, but he was passionately attached to our victim and she lead him a merry dance.’ Riley donned his hat and stepped outside, where it was only fractionally colder than the room in which he had spent the last hour. ‘He’d gone to considerable trouble to arrange the trip to the exhibition and she blithely changed her mind at the eleventh hour. He would have been stricken with jealousy whenever he contemplated whose escort she had accepted instead and as we both know, jealousy is apt to make people act out of character. He cannot prove his whereabouts after eating his supper early in the evening. He works locally and probably knows that our victim used the side gate at Lord Vermont’s house in order to come and go.’
‘He could easily have lain in wait for her return,’ Salter said, picking up the theme. ‘She wouldn’t have been afraid of him and would have let him in through the gate if he insisted upon speaking with her. She told him her activities were no business of his when he demanded an explanation, things turned ugly, he threatened her, she ran and away and…well, as you say, sir, jealousy is motivation enough to make just about anyone capable of murder.’
‘True, but where did the knife come from, Jack? I can’t convince myself that he intercepted her and went armed with the intention of killing her.’
‘Still, it’s a thought worth bearing in mind.’
‘I will indeed keep that young man’s name high on the list of suspects. Now, let’s go back to Lyndenhurst. Before we go up to London to speak with Daniel Vermont I want to ask Vermont why he took Miss Mottram to the Founders’ Day celebrations. It would have raised a few eyebrows. A viscount would not ordinarily escort their children’s governess to formal occasions in the place of his wife.’
‘Well, technically he didn’t. His son did.’
‘Even so.’
The two men walked briskly towards Lord Vermont’s abode. As they approached, they saw a young man with wild hair gesticulating at the uniformed constable stationed at the gates to prevent anyone from entering the property who didn’t have business there. Newspapermen were already gathering, and Riley assumed this person to be an especially determined member of that profession.
‘I keep telling you, you dolt. I do have business here. Let me pass.’
‘No one gets in who ain’t on my list,’ the constable replied stubbornly.
‘What is your business?’ Riley asked, stepping up to the man.
‘Mel…Miss Mottram and I were…’ He glanced from Riley to Salter and his mouth fell open. ‘Uncle Jack?’
‘Reggie?’ Riley watched as Salter’s usually granite jaw dropped open in shock. ‘What in the name of God are you doing here?’
‘You know this person, sergeant?’ Riley asked.
‘I’ll say so, sir. He’s me wife’s nephew.’