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Death of an Artist (Riley Rochester Investigates Book 5) by Wendy Soliman (7)


 

 

 

 

Chapter Seven

 

‘Bloody hell!’ Salter scratched his head. ‘That changes everything.’

‘It does indeed.’ Riley leaned back in his chair, rubbing his chin as he mulled over this unexpected development. ‘Which of our suspects fathered the child though, Jack? Did she tell him and is that why she was killed?’

‘It has to be Daniel,’ Salter said adamantly. ‘The young woman had ambitions and would only have given herself to someone who could better her situation.’

‘Not necessarily. I agree that everything we’ve heard said about her indicates a woman fiercely determined to improve her situation, but improve it how?’ Riley took a moment to ponder upon the nature of Miss Mottram’s ambitions. ‘We are assuming that she planned to raise herself up by marrying advantageously, but we also know that she was a talented artist. I am assuming that her talent was not appreciated or acknowledged by her family, perhaps accounting for her determination to leave Devon when she developed more of an interest in it than befits the hobby of a genteel lady. If Daniel is to be believed, we know that an agent for a Bond Street gallery had taken an interest in her work.’ He shot Salter a speculative look. ‘Perhaps that’s where she went yesterday. She met with the agent or gallery owner, preventing her from seeing Daniel.’

‘To Bond Street, you mean? You’re thinking it wasn’t just her talent as an artist that got her noticed. She used more personal forms of persuasion?’

‘It’s possible. And given that we now know she surrendered her virtue, I’d say it was probable. Anyway, as I see it, we have several suspects, all with motives. Daniel Vermont was clearly besotted with the girl and has admitted as much. But his father didn’t approve of the potential match. If she did give herself to him and then told him she was expecting his child, forcing his hand, it would have put him in an impossible position which the girl’s death neatly extricates him from. It also puts him high on my list of suspects.’

‘Then there’s Peter Renshaw at Dulwich College,’ Salter said. ‘He was besotted too, and can’t account for his movements last night.’

‘Talk to his landlady in the morning before coming here, Jack. Hopefully she’s the inquisitive type who keeps a close eye on the comings and goings of her tenants. Speak to the stationmaster while you’re there. See if he recalls anyone familiar getting off the last train. See if he recalls Miss Mottram leaving it, for that matter. We have no actual proof other than her ticket stub to suggest that she travelled anywhere by train yesterday.’

‘Right you are. What will you do, sir?’

‘We can’t expect Carter and Soames to return from Devon with Mottram before early afternoon. I shall talk to the agency that found her the position with Vermont in the meantime. I’m interested to know what reason she gave for coming to London. I keep thinking of the vitriolic nature of the letters that Mottram wrote to his daughter during her early days in Dulwich. Why was Mottram so determined to have her back? Something of significance occurred between them. I’m absolutely sure of it.’

‘Perhaps, but if Mottram’s safely tucked away in Devon, he can’t have done for his daughter.’

‘What’s to say that she doesn’t have brothers, or a disappointed suitor who came up to reason with her, lost his temper…’ Riley sighed. ‘I’m speculating, but we can’t afford to ignore the possibility that a member of her family did the deed. That’s more often than not the case, as well you know. However, we also have your nephew to consider.’

‘Miss Mottram seems to have had every man she came into contact with running around in circles to please her,’ Salter complained. ‘Why couldn’t she stay at home and embroider cushions?’

Riley chuckled. ‘I shall have to have Reggie in here to answer questions about that knife, Jack,’ he said, his smile quickly fading.

Salter kicked at the leg of his chair. ‘Yeah, I know.’

‘I’ll leave it until tomorrow afternoon, after I’ve seen Mottram. I’ll send Carter and Soames down to pick him up. I don’t want you anywhere near him. But what I do badly want is more information about Rachel Bowden.’

‘The American working at Reggie’s studio?’ Salter’s brows shot up. ‘You don’t seriously suspect her of stabbing her rival for Reggie’s questionable affections in the back, do you?’

‘I should have thought that you would jump at the chance of lengthening the suspect list.’

‘Right. I don’t have a high opinion of Reggie, but I find it hard to imagine him killing anyone. But the same goes for the lass. Women are perfectly capable of committing murder, as we’ve found out for ourselves, but very few of them choose stabbing as their preferred method.’

‘I agree.’ Riley settled into a more comfortable position. ‘But if she did decide to catch our victim on her way home and clear the air between them, it’s reasonable to suppose that she took a knife with her for protection. It’s not safe for a woman alone after dark, even somewhere as relatively quiet as Dulwich. She confronted Miss Mottram and took her to task for dallying with Archer’s affections. Miss Mottram laughed in her face. In the heat of the moment, Miss Bowden lost her temper, had the knife in her hand and…well, we all know how vicious women can be when beset with jealousy.’

‘Married life teaching you a few hard lessons already, is it, sir?’

Riley dealt his sergeant a droll look. ‘I wonder what Miss Bowden does for entertainment at night,’ he mused. ‘I suspect that some of the artistic types frequent the Crown. Ask the landlord if Reggie’s crowd were in there on the night in question and if Miss Bowden was amongst their number. If she’d imbibed sufficiently and then happened to see Miss Mottram returning from London, it might have given her the courage to follow and confront her.’

‘And she just happened to have a knife about her person?’

Riley shrugged. ‘Stranger things have been known to happen. Artists become engrossed in their work and forget what they have in their pockets, I shouldn’t wonder. Anyway, we have to assume that Miss Bowden comes from a well-to-do family, given that she’s touring England—alone I might add—and seems able to support herself. I will have her in for questioning, but after I’ve spoken with Reggie and found out what he can tell me about her.’

‘There’s that butler at Vermont’s house,’ Salter pointed out. ‘He seemed to take an unnatural interest in Miss Mottram, too.’

‘I haven’t forgotten about him, but he will keep. He’s not high on my list, but he probably knows more than he’s telling. Good butlers will sell their souls to protect their employer’s interests.’

‘Lord Vermont?’

‘I’d stake my reputation, such as it is, on him not being involved with the lady on a personal level. He’s the only man in this entire affair who hasn’t come across as being besotted with Miss Mottram. But if his son did impregnate their governess and then insist upon doing the right thing by her, there’s no telling what he might have done to prevent Daniel from making a huge mistake.’

‘He stays on the list then.’

‘He does. Lady Vermont stays too, albeit at the bottom. She didn’t like Miss Mottram but is far too weak and ladylike to stab her in the back.’

‘So, we have four viable suspects, plus one outsider, and have yet to decide if any of the victim’s family members are culpable,’ Salter said, scratching his neck. ‘And absolutely no evidence, other than that damned knife, to point us in the right direction.’

‘The knife could have been Miss Mottram’s,’ Riley remarked. ‘We found her purse, which was large enough to accommodate it.’

‘She travelled alone at night so had the knife for protection?’ Salter shrugged. ‘Perhaps. The killer followed her, so she took the knife from her bag. He got it off her and used it, then dropped the knife and scarpered. Blimey! That’s an awful lot of assumptions, guv’nor.’

‘We’re also forgetting that elusive agent,’ Riley reminded his sergeant. ‘Now he interests me very much indeed. Agents scour the country looking for fresh talent, but very few of their discoveries find their way directly into a Bond Street gallery. Everyone we’ve spoken to agrees that Miss Mottram was passionate about art and had a degree of talent, but no one has said that the talent in question was remarkable enough to catapult her directly into the big time.’

‘You think she used her wiles on the agent, accounting for her pregnancy?’

‘It’s a possibility that we can’t afford to ignore. Once I’ve spoken to the employment agency in the morning, I shall make a brief tour of the Bond Street galleries and see what information is forthcoming.’ Riley stood. ‘You get off home, Jack, and come at this fresh tomorrow. We’ll meet here once we’ve made our respective enquiries.’

‘What are you going to do now?’

‘Talk with Danforth, I suppose.’

‘Lord help us! Can’t you go direct to Thompson?’

‘I could, but I would prefer to tackle Danforth head on and put an end to his petty attempts at one-upmanship.’

‘Good luck with than one,’ Salter replied in a dubious tone.

‘Good night, Jack. I know you won’t breathe a word to Mrs Salter, but if she hears about this from her nephew, tell her not to worry. I won’t allow him to be arrested unless or until we have substantive proof of his guilt.’

‘Thank you, sir. That will be a great comfort to her, I’m sure. She feels the same way about Reggie as I do. He’s been a thorn in the family’s side for years but, at the same time, she’s that fond of him. He has that effect on women. They all make excuses for him. Drives me demented, so it does.’

Riley watched as Salter donned his hat and left the Yard, looking downcast. He felt equally despondent about the battle of wills to come as he took himself off to Danforth’s office and found his superior gazing fixedly out of his grimy window.

‘Ah, Rochester, there you are.’ He turned his flabby face towards Riley but didn’t invite him to sit. Riley did so anyway, unwilling to be treated like a recalcitrant subordinate. ‘What progress?’

Riley gave him a succinct account, including the fact that the unmarried victim was pregnant.

‘Hmm.’ Danforth adopted a pensive pose that was probably supposed to convey intelligent thought. ‘Plenty of suspects then?’

‘Quite, and you should be aware that Reggie Archer, the man with the artists’ studio, happens to be Sergeant Salter’s nephew.’

Danforth’s small eyes glowed. ‘Well, in that case, Salter can’t be involved with the case.’

‘He certainly can’t be involved in any of the interviews conducted with Archer, but other than that, his contribution to the rest of the investigation will be invaluable, as always.’

‘Rubbish! His position is compromised.’

‘There is no love lost between Salter and his wife’s nephew. I can assure you that if Archer proves to be the guilty party, Salter will slap the cuffs on him personally.’

‘Sounds to me as though you’re already dragging your heels because of who the man is. We know the girl was killed with an artist’s knife, which makes Archer the obvious suspect.’

‘Far too obvious.’

‘Pah! Sometimes things really are as simple as they appear. I am aware that you think yourself superior to us lesser mortals, but I have been doing this job for a long time, much longer than you, and it doesn’t have to be complicated. Archer should be locked in a cell right now, cooling his heels until he answers all your questions.’ Danforth leaned across his desk. ‘Why isn’t he?’

‘Because I want to talk to Miss Mottram’s father first.’ Riley remained implacably calm, sensing that his unruffled demeanour served only to increase Danforth’s feelings of inadequacy. ‘Archer will be brought in and questioned tomorrow afternoon.’

‘If he ain’t run off before then, and if he has…’ Danforth waved a pudgy finger in Riley’s face. ‘If he has, you will be held responsible for letting a cold-blooded murderer go free. That won’t look too good on that spotless record of yours, will it now.’

Riley pointedly pushed Danforth’s finger aside. ‘I would appreciate your support in this matter, but since it’s unlikely to be forthcoming I will make my situation plain. I fully intend to conduct this investigation on my own terms, with Sergeant Salter’s full involvement.’ Riley spoke mildly and with smooth civility. Even so, a note of steely determination crept into his tone. ‘If I make errors of judgement that allow a criminal to escape justice, you will finally have the ammunition you seek to make my position here untenable. Since we both know that is your ultimate aim, I should have thought you’d be happy to sit back and watch me make the errors in question.’

‘You have got the wrong impression entirely,’ Danforth muttered, looking everywhere except at Riley. ‘I am grateful to you for…well, for your discretion, as far as it went. I do realise you could have made life much harder for me.’

‘Then I fail to understand your need to exert your authority,’ Riley replied, genuinely perplexed. ‘I could have gone directly to Superintendent Thompson regarding this aspect of the case and he would, I know, have trusted my judgement. But I did not. You are my direct superior and I respect you in that regard, even though I am well aware that you resent me and everything I stand for.’

‘That’s ridiculous!’

‘Is it?’ Riley paused. ‘Anyway, you can tell Thompson that you disagree with my methods. That way, if things go awry, your own backside…’ Riley glanced in the direction of Danforth’s wide rear spilling over the edges of his chair. He shuffled awkwardly and winced when Riley’s gaze lingered for longer than was necessary. Clearly, he’d endured another whipping recently. Riley raised a brow and, point made, didn’t comment upon his predilections. ‘Your own position, should I say, will be vindicated. In the meantime, I’d be grateful if you would leave Salter and me to conduct the enquiry our way. Needless to say, I shall keep you fully informed.’ Riley stood and fixed Danforth with a significant look. ‘I trust we understand one another. Sir,’ he belatedly added.

‘I am not your enemy, Rochester. We all want the same thing here, which is justice for the victim.’

‘And I shall do my very best to obtain it for her family.’

Riley let out a long breath as he left Danforth’s office, still not entirely convinced that he had cleared the air between them. One slip on his part and Danforth would be crying for his blood.

Feeling like he’d been back at work for a month rather than a day, Riley returned to Chelsea. He felt the travails of a difficult day fall from his shoulders when Amelia appeared in the hallway, greeting him with open arms and a wide smile.

‘You look frazzled,’ she said, taking his arm the moment Stout had relieved him of his outdoor garments. ‘Come in and get warm and tell me all about your day. Norris, whisky for his lordship, please.’

‘Why do I bother?’ Riley asked, kissing his wife with passion the moment they were temporarily alone. ‘I could have spent the day far more agreeably in your company.’

‘And spoil the anticipation of our reunion?’ Amelia smiled. ‘You would tire of me in a month if we were together the entire time. Besides, what would we talk about?’

Norris returned with Riley’s whisky. He thanked him, sank into the corner of a sofa and took a healthy sip.

‘You look perplexed, Riley,’ Amelia said, seating herself beside him and resting her head on his shoulder. ‘Tell me what’s happened.’

Riley did, leaving nothing out.

‘You are worried about Salter, of course,’ she said in a compassionate tone. ‘Of course you are. And Danforth will use his nephew’s involvement to drive a wedge between you.’

‘Not anymore.’ He told her about his exchange with Danforth. ‘He’s sulking because he wasn’t invited to our wedding, which seems too juvenile for words. However, I have made my position plain. If he impedes my investigation then I can and will expose the full extent of his sexual deviations to all and sundry. His career won’t survive a second scandal, and well he knows it.’

‘Which makes his attitude towards you that much harder to comprehend.’

‘He is aware that I possess the power to end his career. For a man who already resented my status, that situation doesn’t sit comfortably with him.’ Riley grinned. ‘Not that his habits make for comfortable seating arrangements at the best of times, but I assume that’s the point.’

‘He wants rid of you and the threat that you pose.’

‘That’s the only conclusion I can arrive at.’

‘Jack Salter knows the precise nature of Danforth’s diversities, and is far less forgiving than you are.’ She sent him a playful smile. ‘Diversities that you refuse to expand upon in my hearing, by the way.’

‘His depravities are not for your ears.’

Amelia pouted. ‘Spoilsport!’

Riley laughed and kissed the end of her nose. ‘Salter’s word won’t be taken for anything, whereas mine will, despite the fact that Danforth outranks me, and that’s what makes him feel vulnerable.’

‘In his position, I would appear supportive and bide my time, waiting for the right opportunity to rid myself of the threat.’

Riley shrugged. ‘Well, there’s no accounting for the behaviour of a bitter man.’ He placed his empty glass aside, feeling the effects of the whisky and Amelia’s desirable company cutting through his annoyance at the obstacles placed in his path by his direct superior.

‘What will you do next?’

‘I want to speak with Miss Mottram’s father and find out what caused the rift between them before interviewing Jack’s nephew again. In the meantime, I shall check out the Bond Street galleries and see who was persuaded to take on Miss Mottram’s work. That way I shall find the identity of the agent.’

‘Why not just ask Archer?’

‘I intend to, but he may not know. Miss Mottram might have used Daniel Vermont’s connections to get herself noticed. She was certainly ambitious enough. Anyway, I like to double check my facts. I will get Stout to help me. He’s good at that sort of thing.’ Riley stretched his arms above his head and then closed one around Amelia’s shoulders. ‘How have you occupied your time today, my love?’

‘I had a lengthy visit from your mother.’

Riley rolled his eyes. ‘I’m sorry if she’s plaguing you.’

‘She isn’t. She’s lonely, Riley, and secretly pleased that you and I are so happy.’

‘Lonely?’ Riley quirked a brow. ‘She has dozens of acquaintances and more invitations than she could possibly accept.’

‘That isn’t the same thing as having close friends.’

‘Well, don’t let her tire you.’

‘Sophia came with her. We played our harps for an hour, which I enjoyed. She’s been practising and has improved a lot in the hope of impressing you.’

‘She doesn’t have to be anything other than be herself in order to impress me.’

‘We are invited to dine with Jake and Olivia tomorrow evening. Do you want me to decline, given that you are up to your eyes with this new investigation?’

‘Heavens, no. If I allowed my cases to prevent me from accepting invitations I would never go anywhere.’

‘But you don’t hesitate to use your occupation as an excuse if there are invitations you would prefer not to accept.’

‘Ah, I can see that you already understand me a little too well. But Jake and Olivia’s invitations are always welcome. Jake will want to know what I’m up to and will probably come up with ideas I haven’t thought of myself. He usually does and makes me feel incompetent because I’ve been too busy being clever and overlooked the obvious.’

‘Hardly that. Anyway, we dine alone tonight so I have you all to myself.’

‘Beware what you wish for,’ he told his wife, kissing her soundly. ‘How is my child?’ he asked, placing his hand on her belly.

‘Your son is doing very nicely.’

‘Don’t feel pressure regarding the sex of the child,’ Riley said softly. ‘All I care about is your wellbeing. Now, if you will excuse me, I shall go and change and then we will spend the rest of the evening talking about anything but murder.’

Amelia smiled up at him. ‘Agreed,’ she said.

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