Chapter Twelve
Riley left Celeste half an hour later, with the information she had given him still rattling around inside his head. He tried to make sense of it in so far as it applied to Adelaide’s murder but was no closer to arriving at any answers when the cab dropped him outside his residence.
Tired, in need of a bath, a good meal and decent bottle of wine, he was irritated but not surprised when Stout informed him that his brother was in the drawing room.
‘What did she say?’ Henry asked, standing the moment Riley walked into the room.
‘Good evening, Henry.’ Not a hint of irritation was evident in Riley’s tone. The same could probably not be said for his expression. ‘Is there a problem? I thought we had agreed to meet at White’s later this evening.’
Riley shrugged out of his coat, passed it to Stout and took a chair in front of the fire, opposite the one Henry had just risen from. Stout put Riley’s coat aside and poured him a large glass of burgundy without bothering to ask if he would like one. Henry, he noticed, had already made significant headway into Riley’s best vintage. He looked pale and distracted, a shadow of the brother who had always taken such pleasure in pulling rank over Riley—disapproving, pompous and dictatorial. Riley was unable to decide if he liked the changes in him, wrought by a woman who was unimpressed by the status upon which Henry set such stock. If he had been a vindictive man…
Hopefully it was simply a midlife crisis from which Henry would eventually recover and revert to his normal bombastic self. Riley had neither the energy nor the will to dwell upon the possibility of Celia, Henry’s marchioness, having noticed the changes. She, if anything, was even more self-aware than Henry. She wouldn’t care about her husband engaging in a discreet affair but she would have a great deal to say upon the matter if she even suspected that the female in question had actually engaged Henry’s affections. Celia would never be able to hold her head up in society again if Henry made such an almighty fool of himself.
Riley was tempted to smile at the images that possibility conjured up. He and Celia had never enjoyed a cordial relationship, especially since it became apparent to Riley that she had little or no interest in her eldest child, the delightful and spirited Sophia who, against all the odds, showed signs of maturing into everything that her parents were not. Riley was inordinately fond of Cabbage and, for her sake, would try to ensure that Henry didn’t do anything rash. He didn’t mind if Celia’s credibility was affected but would mind very much indeed if Cabbage’s future was blighted as a result of her father’s stupidity.
‘Sorry, Riley. Forgive me.’ Henry rubbed the side of his hand along his moustache. ‘I’m on edge, you see. Can’t seem to settle to anything. Besides, I thought we’d have more privacy if we met here.’ He glanced around the room, as though he’d not seen it before. Since he had only ever set foot in it on one or two previous occasions in order to rail against Riley for his inappropriate conduct or lack of familial responsibility, his reaction didn’t surprise Riley. ‘Decent set up you have here,’ he remarked. ‘I envy you your bachelor status. Far less complicated that way.’
Riley almost choked on his wine. ‘Are you sure you’re my brother and not an imposter?’
Henry waved a hand. ‘Perhaps I’ve always been secretly envious of your freedom to do as you please and damn the consequences.’
Riley crossed one foot over his opposite thigh and leaned back in his chair, studying his brother over the rim of his glass. ‘You love being a marquess and wouldn’t have it any other way,’ he said.
‘Never had a lot of choice in the matter.’ He paused. ‘Unlike you.’
‘We can none of us help what we are born to be and just have to make the best of it,’ Riley replied briskly. ‘Anyway, I saw Celeste, which is what you really want to talk about, and she told me things that will help with my enquiry.’
‘How is she?’ Henry sat forward, his eyes coming alive with anticipation. ‘Did she mention me?’
‘Naturally, your name came up during the course of conversation. She is well, and very lovely, but I hardly need to tell you that. I can’t repeat what we discussed but there isn’t the slightest chance of her agreeing to your terms, if that’s what you were hoping to hear.’ Riley dealt his brother a sympathetic glance. ‘She is settled in London now.’ He paused. ‘I’m sorry but you would be better advised to forget all about her.’
‘I could come to the capital more often and see her here,’ he said, sounding so desperate that Riley felt awkward. It wasn’t as though he and his brother had ever been on intimate terms. Too many years and three sisters separated them. When Riley started at Eton, Henry had already moved on to university and their paths seldom crossed. But now Riley was seeing a side to Henry’s character that he hadn’t realised existed. The raw emotion in his expression and the uncharacteristic lack of confidence defied Henry’s customary stiff upper lip persona and was in danger of embarrassing them both. ‘I know I can’t tie her down but, damn it, I’ll take as much of her as she’s prepared to offer me.’
‘Henry, stop humiliating yourself,’ Riley said gently. ‘She won’t see you.’
‘She will! It’s just a case of—’
‘She’s married.’
‘Married!’ Henry laughed, looking suddenly more like his old self as he downed a hefty gulp of Riley’s wine. ‘Don’t be absurd.’
‘You, I fancy, would have married her in a heartbeat, were you in a position to do so. Why do you find it so hard to believe that someone else actually did so?’
Riley regretted being quite so blunt when Henry looked to be on the verge of passing out. He stood, poured his brother a substantial measure of brandy and forced the glass into his hand, suspecting that he was in dire need of something stronger than burgundy. ‘Here, drink this.’
Henry took the glass and Riley turned away from him, pretending not to see the tears trickling down his brother’s face.
‘Whom did she marry?’ Henry asked in a glum tone.
‘No one you would be acquainted with, but someone who is connected with my investigation, which is why your Celeste wanted to speak to me so urgently.’
‘He ain’t a murderer, is he?’ Henry asked, brightening at the prospect.
‘Unlikely. I shall know when I have spoken with him. He wasn’t there tonight but I anticipate interviewing him in the morning.’
‘It’s typical of Celeste that she would want to help you, when she would be better advised to keep her head down.’
‘The woman who was murdered was a friend of hers.’
Henry sat bolt upright. ‘She ain’t in danger herself? Is that why she was so secretive about her reasons for wanting to talk to you? I know you’re efficient at what you do but perhaps you should have a word with Torbay. Take his advice.’
Riley tried not to take offence at his brother’s suggestion. ‘History repeating itself?’ Riley suggested, unable to resist the jibe.
Henry puffed out his cheeks. ‘No need to be offensive.’
Jake Morton, the Earl of Torbay had, in his heyday, run a band of aristocratic vigilantes who made it their business to right wrongs that the then police force had neither the wits nor the capability to resolve. Riley’s father had been at the heart of a potential scandal involving his actress mistress that, thanks to Jake’s decisive action, had failed to become public knowledge. Fifteen at the time, Riley had been fascinated by Jake methods. Jake had encouraged his interest, they had remained friends and spent many long hours lamenting the lack of an efficient detective division within the Metropolitan police. Jake had made a huge impression upon the young Riley and was largely responsible for his eventual career choice. Riley still frequently consulted Jake, taking his advice on especially sensitive cases. Perhaps he would do as Henry suggested and speak to him about this one. He was due to return to London from Torbay, and perhaps already had.
Besides, it suddenly occurred to him, Jake’s wife Olivia was a close friend of Amelia’s. If anyone could enlighten him as to the precise nature of Amelia’s unhappy marriage it would be Olivia. Naturally, Riley wouldn’t ask her directly, but perhaps a roundabout approach might reveal something insightful.
‘As far as I am aware, she is no threat to the killer,’ Riley said, returning to the subject of Celeste. ‘She simply wants to see justice done for her friend.’
‘Damn it!’ Henry thumped the arm of his chair. ‘Damn it, damn it, damn it!’
‘There are plenty of other courtesans, most of whom would give their eye teeth to have you in their clutches.’
‘I don’t want any other!’
‘Now you’re sounding petulant, Henry,’ Riley said briskly. ‘You’ve had your fun. I’m sorry it didn’t turn out the way you hoped but don’t make a fool of yourself by falling into decline over a woman who doesn’t return your affections. Where’s your pride, man?’
‘It’s all right for you. You can do as you damned well please and everyone makes allowances.’
‘That’s the spirit.’ Riley clapped his brother’s shoulders, not allowing his snide comments to rile him. ‘You’d be best advised to go back to Chichester and see your son. He will be a great source of solace, I have no doubt.’
Henry grunted.
‘Chief Inspector Danforth is at the door, my lord,’ Stout said, walking into the room.
Riley rolled his eyes. ‘Tell him I am not at home and won’t ever be, no matter how often he calls.’
Stout almost smiled. ‘It will be my pleasure.’
Once Stout had got rid of Danforth, Riley saw his brother off and finally got to have his bath, followed by the meal that Stout had somehow managed to keep warm. Given the vagaries of Riley’s occupation, his man had become an expert as juggling his culinary requirements. He invited Stout to sit opposite him whilst he ate and related everything that Celeste had just told him.
‘This is the woman the marquess is mooning over?’
‘The very same. But I have to say, Stout, if you’d seen her, you’d most likely be reduced to mooning as well.’
Stout snorted. ‘Doubt it.’
‘Well all right, perhaps not. The thing is, the brother, Ray, has some sort of hold over Michael—or so it seems, reading between the lines. That’s why Michael keeps his rooms in Hay Lane for appearances sake and doesn’t shout about being married to Celeste.’
‘If Ray’s mother started out as a prostitute I expect the boy saw some unpleasant stuff when he was too young to understand what was going on. If he’s the resentful type, all brawn and no brain, then it follows that Michael will be wary of him.’
Riley nodded round a mouthful of beef, swallowed it and took a sip of wine. ‘He’s an ox of a man, as you will know if you saw him shouting his mouth off in that tavern the other night. Has a temper on him as well. But Michael is the brainier brother and I can’t see why he would be frightened to tell Ray that he’s married. Celeste is not your average streetwalker and Ray need never know what she once was.’
‘I wouldn’t be so sure about that. You can take the woman out of the gutter…’
‘True.’ Riley conceded the point with a casual one-shouldered shrug. His mother could tell at a glance if a person wasn’t what she purported to be, even if they were dressed in the latest fashion and knew how to behave. ‘But Michael can’t go on living a lie indefinitely.’
‘I would imagine that Ray inherits if anything were to happen to Michael.’
‘Yes, the same thought had occurred to me. I don’t know what Clement and Adelaide were planning, or how they intended to get revenge on her family, but I must assume that it would have left Clement well recompensed, allowing him and Celeste—’
‘Celeste Clement?’ Stout rolled his eyes.
‘Quite. Anyway, Celeste has promised to have Michael contact me the moment he returns to England and then I shall know more. Since she’s worried about what might happen to her, given the fate met by Adelaide, I feel sure that I will hear from him sooner rather than later.’
‘She didn’t know what they were planning?’
‘I am sure she did, but she wasn’t willing to tell me. Besides, I’d prefer to hear it from her husband.’ Riley finished his meal and pushed his empty plate aside. ‘Go back to that tavern, The Lamb close to Billingsgate tomorrow lunchtime, Stout. I’m certain that Ray will be in there. It’s his regular haunt once the market closes.’
‘Do you want me to befriend him or simply keep my ears open?’
‘Use your initiative. Strike up casual conversations and discover what people are saying about him.’
‘Very well.’ Stout stood to clear the table. ‘Shall you be going out again this evening?’
Riley was sorely tempted to call and see Amelia but decided against it. He still hadn’t untangled his feelings regarding that lady and knew it would be dangerous to make a habit of leaning upon her.
‘No, Stout, I think not.’ Riley lifted his arms above his head and yawned. ‘It’s an early night for me.’
Riley felt revived the following morning. He took it as an encouraging sign that the rain had finally cleared and he was greeted by a crisp autumn morning. Multi-coloured leaves blew around his garden, agitated by a strong breeze as a weak sun attempted to break through a bank of cloud. He arrived at Scotland Yard at an early hour and was told by Sergeant Baron that Michael Clement was waiting to see him.
‘He said you was expecting him.’
‘I was indeed, only not quite this early. Is Sergeant Salter here yet?’
Barton shrugged. ‘I ain’t seen him.’
Riley thanked Barton, his relationship with whom had improved but was still dependent upon the sergeant’s moods, and made his way to his office. He’d not been there for five minutes before Salter put his head round the door.
‘Come on in, Jack, and close the door. There have been developments.’
He told Jack about his visit to Celeste the previous evening, playing down Henry’s role in the proceedings.
‘Blimey, sir,’ Salter replied, scratching his head. ‘I thought you was up to something.’
‘I couldn’t take you with me because the lady insisted that I attend alone. I wasn’t sure what she would have to say to me and whether it would be pertinent to the case. Since it was, and given that her husband has returned from France and is waiting to see us now, I felt it expedient to bring you up to date.’
‘Obliged, I’m sure.’ Salter rubbed his chin. ‘Iffing this Celeste specialised in the same line of work as Adelaide, does that mean your brother…’
Salter’s words trailed off in response to Riley’s admonishing look. ‘My brother’s involvement in any of this does not leave this room, Salter. Are we clear?’
‘As crystal, sir. It can’t have been easy for him to come to you, I would imagine.’
‘Very likely not.’ He went on to explain the conclusions he and Stout had reached. ‘Stout is going to the Lamb at lunchtime today to see what he can find out about Ray Clement.’ Riley stood. ‘In the meantime, I shall be most interested to hear what Michael has to tell us. Are you ready, sergeant?’
‘And willing, sir,’ Salter replied crisply, standing and opening the door for Riley to precede him through it.
Riley entered the austere room into which Michael Clement had been shown, wondering what sort of man had secured the fragrant Celeste’s affections. If he expected a mirror image of his brother, one glance was enough to disillusion him of that preconception. The man who stood up when Riley entered was tall and exceedingly handsome. Intelligent grey eyes assessed Riley and Salter, but concentrated upon the former. Despite the fact that he had presumably docked in London early that morning, Clement was impeccably attired in the fashion of a gentleman, and the moment he opened his mouth it quickly became apparent that he had the manners to match.
‘I apologise for keeping you waiting,’ Riley said, accepting the proffered hand that took his in a firm, cool grasp. ‘I am Inspector Rochester. This is Sergeant Salter. I imagine you are only just returned from France. It’s good of you to make this your first call.’
‘I went to Battersea first thing. Celeste told me of the developments during my absence.’ Clement resumed his seat and ran a hand through his thick hair. ‘I am devastated by what has happened to Adelaide. It is a tragedy and I shall do everything in my power to help you find the perpetrator of this violent crime. Upon that you have my firm assurance.’
‘Thank you.’ Riley’s initial impression was that the man was honest and sincere in his desire to help. ‘Perhaps you would care to start by explaining the nature of your relationship with Adelaide. I understand you were on the point of doing business together.’
‘My wife introduced us.’ Clement cleared his throat and gave Riley a direct look. ‘You have met Celeste and understand the nature of her previous profession.’
‘Previous?’ Salter raised a brow. ‘She told the inspector that she still sees some of her regular clients. Frankly, we wondered about that.’
‘You wonder how I could marry the lady and then permit her to continue plying her trade, I dare say.’ Clement shook his head. ‘Don’t imagine I am happy about it, but if we are to be free to live as husband and wife, openly and honestly, Celeste considers there is little choice. I don’t necessarily agree. It will take a longer for me to…however, to speak frankly, none of the men whom Celeste entertains are permitted to touch her. She is in complete control and her word is law.’
‘She is in charge of the exchanges, which her clients want and expect?’ Riley suggested.
‘Now, yes. But it wasn’t always that way.’
‘How can you be so sure that it is now?’
Again Clement fixed Riley with a direct look, making it clear that he knew of his wife’s liaison with Henry but could be trusted to remain silent on the point. ‘You can take my word for it, Inspector. My wife and I have no secrets. But we do want to leave England as soon as possible, and we need to amass as much money as we can in a short amount of time in order to fulfil our plans.’
‘The man who calls himself your brother represents the threat you hope to evade?’
Clement sighed. ‘You know of the tenuous relationship between us?’
‘He is the son of your father’s second wife and took your father’s name when they married, making him feel…feel what precisely?’
Clement lifted one shoulder. ‘Legitimate, I suppose. He never knew his own father and doubted whether his mother knew who he was either. He never attended school, not regularly at least, until he entered our household. He followed me around like a shadow, surly and suspicious at first. I felt sorry for him, so I encouraged him to improve his reading and writing and his basic educational skills, in the somewhat optimistic hope that we could work together. I know that would have made my father happy, and it was what Ray desperately wanted too. But, alas, one cannot make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear. Ray lacks intellect, struggles to retain the most basic information and would be a liability in my business world.’ He straightened his cuffs and sighed. ‘I don’t say that to be unkind. I am merely stating a fact. God alone knows I tried, but the problem is that Ray refuses to recognise his shortcomings and is of the firm opinion that he is my equal in all respects because his mother encouraged him to think that way. Sadly he is not, and never will be.’
‘That don’t explain why you’ve kept your marriage a secret from him,’ Salter said.
‘Does it not, sergeant? I should have thought it explained a great deal. Ray has ideas above his station and dislikes recalling what his mother was forced to resort to in order to put food on the table. Before my father married her, that is. I understand one or two of her customers were violent towards her and Ray witnessed those attacks at a young age. He once told me that the memories of her broken body and the frustration he felt at his inability to protect her had never left him. That accounts, I have often thought, for his predilection to resolve disputes with his fists. He is compensating as a man for his inadequacies as a boy to keep his mother safe.’
‘And you imagine that if he discovers your wife’s former occupation, it will bring it all back to him.’
‘Precisely so.’ Clement threw up his hands. ‘It sounds far-fetched, I’ll grant you, but Ray really does have a blind spot when it comes to women who sell themselves, no matter how desperate they happen to be. If he knew that Celeste…well, I cannot risk his ever finding out. Frankly, inspector, when Ray gets in a temper he terrifies me. Besides, if anything were to happen to me, he would inherit everything that I have.’
‘And when you tell him he can’t be of any help to you in your world, you are worried that he will take the ultimate revenge?’
‘I certainly cannot afford to ignore that possibility.’ Clement draped one hand casually over the arm of his chair. ‘Violence is Ray’s solution to every problem he encounters. He can flare up into the most alarming temper, especially when he is in his cups, and I am not willing to put Celeste’s safety at risk.’
‘Understandably so.’ Riley inclined his head. ‘Now that I have a clearer understanding of your situation, perhaps you would be so good as to tell me where Adelaide came into things.’
‘She and my wife were friends. Adelaide was in many respects Celeste’s protégée. Were you aware of that?’ Riley nodded. ‘Friendships between courtesans are rare but Celeste tells me that she and Adelaide were acquainted in their younger years. Adelaide turned to Celeste in her hour of need. Celeste felt protective of her and took her under her wing. Anyway, suffice it to say that she learned all about Adelaide’s history and her family’s involvement in the wine business. She knew that Adelaide burned for revenge against her uncle and aunt, especially when she learned of her mother’s premature demise, and that thirst for revenge became her raison d’être. Celeste tried to tell her that it wasn’t healthy to obsess over something that couldn’t be altered, but Adelaide refused to listen. Revenge, she told Celeste, was what drove her, what kept her sane, and if she didn’t keep the determination to avenge herself on the lot of them in the forefront of her mind, she would have no reason to carry on.’
‘And then Celeste met you,’ Riley said. ‘Which probably seemed like providence.’
Clement nodded. ‘I am my father’s son in many respects, and unlike Ray I don’t judge people by what circumstances have forced them to become. I encountered Celeste by happy accident when I was in Chichester talking to potential customers. We literally bumped into one another as she left a shop that I was about to enter. I helped her to collect her scattered possessions and…well, things developed from that point. I felt an immediate connection to her and she told me later that she had sensed it too. Given her profession and how cynical she had become with regard to men in general, that meant a great deal to me. We arranged to meet again, talked for hours and I eventually persuaded her to give up her life in Chichester and return to London as my wife.’
‘You are a fortunate man,’ Riley said, meaning it.
‘Thank you.’ Clement allowed himself a small smile. ‘I am well aware of that. I promised Celeste that we would not need to keep our secret for long. I plan to move to France, you see. As well as selling wine I have a desire to grow the grapes and actually produce it. The purpose of my latest visit was to negotiate terms for a property I have in mind. Ray will not trouble us once we are there since he won’t know where to find us. I shall make sure of that. Besides, leaving England on a quest for revenge wouldn’t occur to him.’
‘And Adelaide?’ Riley prompted.
‘Celeste told me about her not long after we met, and when she returned to London she arranged for us to meet. By that point Adelaide was convinced that she was being watched. Sure enough, not long after that, the uncle she so despised cornered her on the street. He told her he knew what she had become, that he had always known that was all she would be good for, and that the price of his silence would be her cooperation.’
‘Whom would he tell?’ Riley asked.
‘He threatened to go to her father, but Adelaide laughed in his face and told him to go ahead. Then she turned the tables and threatened him.’
‘How?’ Riley and Salter asked together.
‘It seemed that she knew more about her dear uncle’s private parts than would have been possible had he not tried to take advantage of her.’ Clement shifted his position and sighed. ‘Suffice it to say that he exposed himself to her and she noticed certain distinguishing features. She reminded him of that fact and he flew into a rage. She said that if they hadn’t been in a public place, she was sure he would have strangled her then and there.’
Riley and Salter shared a significant look.
‘Because she still had the power to destroy his reputation, such as it is,’ Riley said, leaning forward. ‘A very compelling motive for murder, wouldn’t you say, sergeant.’
‘Indeed I would, sir.’
‘Anyway, Adelaide had saved almost every penny she earned since moving to London and had a tidy sum put aside. She offered to go in with me to help destroy her father’s business. She had an excellent memory and knew whom he supplied. Her financial backing would have made it possible for me to purchase in bulk and undercut her father’s prices. She didn’t mind not making a profit. She simply wanted revenge.’
‘But she died before you could put your plan into effect?’
‘Sadly, yes. I shall still be able to purchase my vineyard but I won’t also be able to continue with my business in this country, which I had been relying upon to finance my new venture.’ He sighed. ‘But still, all that really matters is getting away from Ray and keeping Celeste safe.’
‘Could word of your intentions have somehow reached Huxton’s ears? The uncle or the father? What I’m asking you, I suppose, is whether anyone else was a party to your plans.’
‘Only my assistant in my premises in Dover Street is aware of them. He is of French parentage and is the one who told me about the vineyard in the first place. I trust him implicitly.’
And, Riley thought, he had no obvious reason to kill Adelaide.
‘But if you had started sounding out some of Huxton’s existing customers, anyone might have spoken out,’ Salter said.
‘True.’ Clement spread his hands and shuddered. ‘God forbid that I inadvertently caused Adelaide’s murder. I should find it hard to live with myself if that proves to be the case.’
‘Which it has not. Not by any stretch of the imagination. And speaking of imaginations, can you think of any reason why Ray would have been drunkenly proclaiming that the world was better off without Adelaide in it?’
‘Ah yes, perhaps. He found us in close conversation one day in the back room of my shop.’
‘Did he overhear what you were discussing?’
‘Lud, I hope not! If he did I…Anyway, I can only assume he followed her, or recognised her for what she was. That would be enough to set him off into one of his rages.’
‘He didn’t ask you about her?’
‘No, I was called to attend a customer, and he was gone by the time I finished with him. But,’ he added pensively, ‘oddly, he never raised the subject again. Funny that.’
‘You supply the wine to Mrs Sinclair’s establishment, I believe.’
Clement clapped a hand over his mouth and his face turned deathly pale.
‘What is it?’ Riley asked, sitting forward.
‘I do supply the wine,’ he said slowly, ‘but it is Ray who delivers it.’
‘He does deliveries for you?’ Riley asked. ‘You did not say.’
‘It didn’t seem relevant. I allow him to do them because it makes him feel involved and it’s something that he can’t easily make a mull of.’
‘Ah,’ Riley said. ‘So he might well have seen Adelaide there, even before he saw her speaking with you.’
‘It’s entirely possible.’
‘And he would know the lie of the land in that house,’ Salter added. ‘Presumably he took the wine in through that side door which Tennyson keeps locked, but would be familiar with the kitchens as well.’
Clement scrubbed his hands down his face. ‘Possibly,’ he conceded. ‘Even so, despite his famous temper, I don’t like to think that Ray would go that far.’
‘We shall talk to him again, a little more assertively on this occasion,’ Riley said.
‘Have a care, inspector. Ray and that temper of his.’
Riley thought that Clement was contradicting himself—one moment expressing his doubts about his step-sibling being capable of murder, the next warning them that he was dangerous. ‘I doubt whether even he would be foolish enough to try anything with us.’
‘Let’s hope not.’
Riley stood and extended his hand. ‘Thank you for your frankness, Mr Clement. You have been very helpful. Rest assured that we will be in touch again at the earliest opportunity, hopefully with good news.’
‘Well,’ Riley said as they made their way back to his office. ‘What did you make of that?’
‘I’d say he spoke the truth, sir. We now know that Adelaide’s uncle didn’t tell us everything and that he had a compelling reason to silence his niece permanently.’
‘And is the sort who would know how to access a brothel by the back door, I shouldn’t wonder.’ Riley threw himself into the chair behind his desk. ‘We now have suspects lining up. The uncle comes top of the list. But there’s Ray Clement too. He has a temper and resented Adelaide’s involvement in the life of a brother whom he looked up to and probably wanted to protect from her feminine wiles. He felt threatened by her as well and, given that he regularly delivered his brother’s wine to the brothel, he would know his way around it.’ Riley leaned his head back and closed his eyes. ‘Of course, there are also the other girls employed by Mrs Sinclair to take into consideration. I wouldn’t put murder past any of them, especially Mirabelle, who makes no effort to hide her jealousy of Adelaide. Adelaide was more popular than her and probably earned more. Now Adelaide is gone and Mirabelle is top dog. That is more than reason enough to kill her, and she wouldn’t have to break in to carry out the deed. How someone got into the house and persuaded Adelaide to meet him or her in the room where she plied her trade has been bothering me.’
‘There’s also the aunt,’ Salter reminded him. ‘I really want it to be her. And also Grant, who proposed to Adelaide twice and was rejected twice. His hurt feelings cannot be overlooked.’ Salter sighed. ‘Out problem is that we have an abundance of suspects and not a shred of evidence to tie any one of them to the crime.’
‘Then we’d best stir the pot a little, and see what demons we can agitate.’
‘How we gonna do that, sir?’
‘I wonder what happens to Adelaide’s money,’ Riley mused, opening his eyes again and staring directly at Salter. ‘Clement told us she’d amassed a goodly sum. Where is it? Did she make a will, and if so who benefits from her death?’
‘Perhaps Mrs Sinclair will know if a particular solicitor took care of the girls’ interests.’
‘We shall have someone ask her.’ Riley looked up when someone knocked at the door. ‘Come in. Ah, Carter, there you are. How have you and Soames fared with the task I set you?’
‘Inconclusively, sir.’
‘When is anything ever conclusive in our line of work?’ Salter asked no one in particular.
‘We’ve spoken to the clerk who keeps the books at Huxton’s warehouse. He showed us the receipts that Derek Huxton produced to support his trip to France. He entertained lavishly and travelled first class.’
‘What’s inconclusive about that?’ Salter growled. ‘Unfortunately it confirms that he was where he said he was.’
‘But for the fact that the boat train he caught to return to London from Dover left the port at first light. He was probably hoping that we wouldn’t look that closely at his ticket stub because it confirms that he was back in the city by late morning, sir.’
‘Was he indeed!’ Salter turned gleaming eyes upon Riley. ‘And yet he tells us he only reached Ware at ten that evening. Where was he for all the rest of the time?’
‘We shall ask him in due time,’ Riley replied. ‘But I dare say he will have an explanation. Besides, if his sister supports his alibi, which she undoubtedly will, we are no further forward. But still, it’s the first real breakthrough we have achieved thus far and certainly focuses suspicion on Derek Huxton.’
‘Would you like me to bring him in, sir?’ Salter asked, rubbing his hands in anticipation.
‘Not immediately,’ Riley replied, stroking his chin. ‘He’ll keep. I can’t help thinking that we’re missing something. Just because we want the uncle to be guilty, doesn’t mean that he necessarily is. Go and see Mrs Sinclair, Carter, and ask her if a particular solicitor looked after all the girls’ legal requirements. I still want to know if anyone benefits directly from Adelaide’s death.’
Carter nodded and left the room.
‘Let’s carrying on delving into backgrounds for the rest of the day, Jack. I want to know everything there is to know about the girls who work in that house, including the servants.’ He paused. ‘Especially them.’
Salter nodded briskly and left the room, shouting orders to the detectives waiting to do his bidding.