Chapter Four
Riley sensed the atmosphere the moment he and Salter walked into Scotland Yard. Either news of Danforth’s regular visits to the house in Maiden Lane had already leaked out or, more likely, his fellow officers were taking a particular interest in this case due to the nature of the victim’s profession. The girls employed by Mrs Sinclair were a cut above street walkers and were supposed to be protected. Speculation would be rife as to the reason for the murder, especially when facts were in short supply.
‘The superintendent wants to see you,’ Barton told him.
‘Damn,’ Salter muttered as the two of them walked through to the Detective Department, rain dripping from the shoulders of their coats and the brims of their hats. Riley was conscious of every man in the room watching them, probably hoping to be assigned to the investigation. ‘I suppose that means Danforth’s with him and I won’t get to witness his downfall.’
‘Your moment will come, sergeant,’ Riley assured him as he ran a hand through his dishevelled hair, simultaneously flipping through the messages left on his desk. None of them referred to this case, so they could wait. ‘This business is far from over. See if you can find out more about the men who were in attendance last night while I’m gone, Jack. Their business addresses would be useful, especially those who subjected themselves to Adelaide’s not-so-tender mercies. We’ll get more out of them if we visit them away from their homes and families.’
‘But we’ll threaten to call on them there if they aren’t forthcoming.’ Salter grinned. ‘Leave it to me.’
‘As you know, Mrs Sinclair had a note of their occupations, which girls they preferred to have entertain them, the regularity of their visits and so forth at the back of her ledger. Fortunately for us, she keeps more information about her clients than they realise, presumably as a failsafe in case one of them declines to pay or crosses a line in some way. Her fastidious record keeping will make our life easier. How many chemists are there in Barking by the name of Cowper, for instance?’
‘The men who were there last night are probably shaking in their boots, worried that we’ll track them down and embarrass them.’
‘I don’t intend to embarrass anyone, unless I think they are withholding information. Use as many men as you need on my authority.’ Riley chuckled. ‘You won’t lack for volunteers. But keep Danforth’s name out of it for now.’
Salter looked disappointed. ‘Right you are,’ he said reluctantly.
Riley slapped his sergeant’s shoulder. ‘This case has caught everyone’s attention and will doubtless find its way into the newspapers. I expect everyone to act professionally and to work diligently, or they will have me to answer to.’ Riley paused. ‘I sense that’s making you uneasy, Jack,’ he added. ‘If you would prefer to be assigned to another investigation I won’t think any the less of you.’
Salter scratched the side of his chin. ‘No, I’m all right. It’s just…well, it was a bit of a shock when I first went in there. I don’t frequent brothels.’
‘No more do I, but we can’t pick and choose who gets murdered, or where.’
‘Yeah, but all those whips, and stuff.’ Salter shook his head. ‘Why would anyone want to put themselves through that?’
Riley lifted one shoulder. ‘Gratification takes many forms.’
‘But still, it don’t seem right, them girls having to sell themselves and do all the stuff the men expect of them. I blame the customers. They should have more self-control.’
‘The girls in that house have it better than most. They don’t have to walk the streets in all weathers. They have somewhere to live, they have regular medical check-ups and they’re well paid. It’s called the oldest profession for a reason, Jack. The demand will always be there and the ladies in Maiden Lane would probably be the first to admit that the work is less arduous and considerably better paid than being, say, a housemaid.’
Salter sighed. ‘Yeah, you’re right, I’m being prudish.’ He straightened his shoulders. ‘Let’s concentrate on catching the bastard what did this.’
‘That’s the spirit!’ Riley turned towards the door. ‘Right, I’m off to face the music.’
Salter chuckled. ‘Wish I could be a fly on the wall.’
Riley used the time it took him to reach the superintendent’s office to compose his thoughts. A glance through the door to Danforth’s domain as he passed it showed an empty room. That being the case, Riley wasn’t surprised when he reached Superintendent Thompson’s door and discovered a hapless Danforth seated across from their joint superior—a man for whom Riley had a great deal of respect.
‘Ah, Rochester,’ Thompson said, looking haggard, ‘there you are. Come in and close the door. Have a seat.’
‘Good morning, sir,’ Riley replied, taking the chair beside Danforth and nodding to him. Danforth looked ghostly pale, mortified, as well he should.
‘You will have discovered by now, I dare say, that Danforth was a guest of Mrs Sinclair’s last night.’
‘I have, sir,’ Riley replied, keeping his expression bland and deciding not to state the obvious, which was that Danforth should have told him himself.
‘Most irregular.’
Thompson glowered at Danforth, who seemed to shrink in on himself. He shifted his position in his chair, unable to look either Thompson or Riley in the eye, and winced. Presumably he’d just received a reminder of his escapades from the night before. Riley had noticed Danforth’s discomfort on more than one occasion in the past but if he’d thought about its origins—and he was unsure if he actually had—he would have put the occasional twinge down to the burden of the excess weight he carried. Clearly he had got that wrong.
Riley leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs, wondering why he wasn’t enjoying Danforth’s humiliation more. The man had always resented Riley’s privileged background and done his level best to undermine him at every turn. Yet Riley found that he had a certain sympathy for his superior’s plight. This job had taught him that humans were fallible at all levels. Nothing surprised or shocked him any more, and he made a point of not standing in judgement over those whose foibles were brought to his notice when they themselves had committed no crime.
‘The chief inspector is hereby suspended from active duty until this case has been resolved,’ Thompson said briskly. ‘You will want to interview him, of course, and since he tells me that he was alone with the woman who was subsequently murdered, he will be treated as a suspect, just like everyone else.’
Danforth’s head fell into his splayed hands and he groaned.
‘You will make yourself available to Rochester whenever he wishes to speak with you, Danforth. Do I make myself clear?’
‘Yes, sir.’ Danforth lifted his head and spoke for the first time since Riley had entered the room. ‘Is it common knowledge yet?’
‘No one other than Salter and myself know of your association with the place,’ Riley told him, ‘and we will endeavour to keep it that way. However…’ Riley spread his hands, not thinking it necessary to explain that Danforth’s involvement was bound to leak out sooner or later. Danforth sent him a suspicious look, clearly thinking that Riley was exacting some sort of revenge. Riley had expected that, well aware that if their positions had been reversed, Danforth would have taken great pleasure in shouting about Riley’s deviances from the rooftops and glorying in his spectacular fall from grace.
‘Very well then. Go and wait in your office, Danforth. Rochester will want to talk to you once we’re finished here. But first, I want to hear his report on progress thus far, and you cannot be involved.’ Danforth shuffled to his feet like an old man. ‘We will discuss your position here once this case has been resolved.’
‘Damned idiot,’ Thompson muttered as the door closed behind Danforth. ‘What the hell was he thinking, involving himself in a place like that, laying himself open to blackmail, coercion, or worse?’
‘How much did he tell you about his predilections?’
Thompson shuddered. ‘He merely said that the place was discreet and catered for particular requirements. I didn’t ask for details.’
Riley wasn’t surprised to hear it. Thompson, like Danforth, was a family man, but that was as far as the similarities went. Thompson respected Riley’s qualities as a detective and didn’t seem to resent his lifestyle. Danforth did. Riley explained what it was that drew Danforth to Mrs Sinclair’s establishment.
‘For what it’s worth, sir, I don’t think he’s likely to be blackmailed. Every man who goes to that place does so because he harbours obscure desires that he wouldn’t want to have made public, even if he’s unmarried. We are talking about middle-class men with businesses to run and reputations to maintain. That’s why they reply upon Mrs Sinclair’s discretion.’
‘But he was there openly, using his own name.’ Thompson, red in the face with anger, shook his head. ‘The stupid fool seems to think that he’s untouchable. I gather he didn’t pay for the services he received, which I assume gives the madam a hold over him.’
‘A tenuous one,’ Riley conceded, wondering why he was still defending Danforth. ‘He would no doubt use his authority to have her business raided, shut down even, if he felt she had betrayed his trust.’
‘Ha!’
‘Anyway, sir, I shall naturally try and speak with as many of the men as possible who were there last night, but I am fairly confident that none of them carried out the murder.’ Riley went on to explain why. ‘I have slight reservations about the only man living there. I think he had developed feelings for the murdered girl. Protective feelings, ludicrous though it might sound, that could have become obsessive. It seems she had that effect upon men. Even the other girls—most of whom didn’t like her—admit that much. I shall delve more deeply into Tennyson’s background but I can’t see him resorting to murder if she refused to listen to his advice.’
‘So, an intruder, you think?’ Thompson leaned back in his chair, sliding a paperknife through his fingers and scowling at the wall. ‘Not much chance of catching him, then.’
‘I think it was personal, sir, not random, and that the perpetrator planned it carefully in advance. It couldn’t have been an opportunistic crime committed by one of the men there last night, because the victim was seen alive and well after the last of the visitors left. I am hoping that something in Adelaide’s past will lend us a clue.’
‘And I have every faith in you, Rochester.’
‘Well then, sir, if there’s nothing further, I’d best go and put the chief inspector out of his misery.’
‘Don’t you dare! Give him hell. It’s less than he deserves.’
Riley smiled. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’
Riley tapped on Danforth’s closed door and was gruffly invited to enter. Danforth had regained a little colour but still looked like a condemned man whose career had been compromised.
‘I suppose you’re enjoying this,’ was his opening gambit.
‘I am doing my job, nothing more.’ Riley seated himself without being invited to do so. ‘I will protect you as much as I can but we both know that will not be possible indefinitely. Gossip will prevail, as always. The best that you can hope for is that your presence there will become known and no man will condemn you for it. If they discover the precise nature of your needs, I’m afraid you will become a laughing stock.’
‘Dear God!’ Danforth shook his head from side to side, causing his jowls to wobble. ‘I’m a bloody fool!’
Riley couldn’t abide self-pity. Danforth had brought this upon himself and must deal with the consequences. ‘Then why take the risk?’ he asked briskly.
‘I have eight children, Rochester. Eight. Ten of us live in a house not much larger than your drawing room. It’s bedlam. Oh, I love my wife and family, don’t get me wrong, but sometimes…well, I just need a little personal attention. I have responsibilities here, more responsibilities at home. When I’m with Adelaide she knows what I need and I can abdicate from all those demands upon me, if only for a fleeting moment in time. I’ve never met any other woman like her, but that only made my cravings worse. I could control them after a fashion before I came across her. Now…well, I don’t know how I’ll survive without those visits to look forward to.’
‘The cravings must be very strong.’
Danforth winced. ‘You have no idea. None whatsoever, so I wouldn’t expect you to understand. Just don’t judge, that’s all I ask.’
‘Tell me about last night.’
Riley’s no-nonsense tone seemed to communicate itself to Danforth. He sat a little straighter and became more like his usual gruff self as he started to talk.
‘I arrived late. It was past nine and the party was already under way. Adelaide was engaged and I had to wait for her. She saw me at about ten and I left just after eleven.’
‘You spent an hour with her?’
‘I did.’
‘How did she seem?’
‘What do you mean? She seemed like she always did. Alluring, commanding, dominant, slightly aloof and mysterious.’
‘Nothing seemed to be worrying her? Her service was as efficient as always?’
‘I didn’t notice anything untoward.’ Danforth screwed up his eyes in an effort to recollect. Presumably he realised that if he were to supply information that helped to break the case, then the prospects of saving his career would improve exponentially. ‘I was…well, concentrating upon my own requirements.’
‘Understandable.’ Riley paused. ‘Have you noticed during the course of your visits to Mrs Sinclair’s establishment any men who seemed resentful of the attention Adelaide received from others?’
‘She was a whore, Rochester, albeit a high-class one. I was inordinately fond of her myself, but I didn’t feel possessive and didn’t see her as anything other than what she was.’
‘But you wouldn’t settle for anyone else,’ he pointed out calmly.
Danforth’s face flushed. ‘She was damned good at what she did. Exceptionally good.’ He looked away from Riley. ‘You probably think that just about anyone could satisfy the needs of her clients, but that ain’t so. She was all business and discouraged any talk about her own affairs.’ He exhaled loudly. ‘I shall always blame myself for what happened to her. I was there, damn it! But I didn’t kill her. I didn’t feel possessive, but to be honest I had grown perhaps a little fond of her, if that makes any sense. I think everyone she serviced fell victim to her mystique to a greater or lesser degree.’
‘If I even suspected that you’d had a hand in her death, this conversation would not be taking place in this room and I would not be conducting the interview alone.’
‘I appreciate your discretion, Rochester.’ Danforth laced his fingers together and stared down at his hands. ‘Good of you, under the circumstances.’
Riley produced a list of the names of the men who had passed through Adelaide’s evidently capable hands the previous night and laid it on Danforth’s desk.
‘What can you tell me about these men? I need to find them all and talk to them.’
‘These were Adelaide’s clients last night?’
‘They were. I left your name off in an effort to protect you.’
‘Thank you.’ Danforth picked up the paper and studied it. ‘I know Rawlings. He’s a solicitor with Badcott & Co. in Lincoln’s Inn. And this one too.’ He flicked a finger against the fourth name on the list. ‘Farmer is an ironmonger in Cheapside. But the other names don’t mean anything to me. I’d probably know them by sight if you paraded them in front of me, I might even have spoken to one or two of them, but I can’t put faces to any of the names.’
‘One last question. Did you notice anyone wearing a buttonhole at the party last night?’
Danforth scowled and appeared to be on the point of asking Riley’s reason for the question. He remembered at the last minute that he was there to answer questions, not ask them, and shook his head. ‘Can’t say that I did.’
‘Very well.’ Riley stood. ‘Thank you, sir. I will let you get off home now.’
Danforth inclined his head. ‘My wife…you won’t need to come to the house?’
‘I will likely need to speak to you again but I will send word and you can come to me.’
‘Thank you, Rochester. I won’t forget this.’
Riley was perfectly sure that he would not.
‘Well?’ Salter asked when Riley returned to his office.
‘I felt a little sorry for him,’ Riley said, throwing himself into his chair.
Salter guffawed. ‘Never thought I’d live to hear those words pass your lips with regard to Danforth. He resents you and this is your opportunity to bury him.’
‘I am not vindictive, Jack. You know that.’
‘Aye well, you’re a better man than I’ll ever be.’
‘Danforth’s been suspended. He’ll have a hard time explaining that one to his wife. Thompson is taking control of the investigation and I am to report directly to him.’
‘That’s good to know. At least he appreciates our efforts and doesn’t try to undermine us every step of the way.’ Salter scratched his ear. ‘Blimey,’ he said, glancing out the window. ‘I think the rain’s actually stopped at last.’
‘Plenty more dark clouds on the horizon,’ Riley replied, following the direction of Salter’s gaze, but thinking about the direction the case was taking rather than the temporary lull in the weather.
‘Will Danforth lose his rank, or will they just throw him out?’
Riley shrugged. ‘It’s hard to say. His involvement won’t have done him much good. Thompson shares your opinion of Mrs Sinclair’s establishment and doesn’t think much of the men who frequent it.’ Riley leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. ‘Danforth is guilty of poor judgement but if…no, when the commissioner gets to hear about it, it might be enough to see him sacked. You know how keen he is for the Detective Department to maintain a spotless reputation. We’ve had to fight hard enough to overcome all the resentment and justify our existence. Danforth’s predilections won’t help our cause if they become public knowledge, which they undoubtedly will.’
Salter grinned. ‘Well then, I suppose we’d better find the murderer as quickly as we can and save his sore arse.’
Riley chuckled. ‘Danforth recognised two of the names on the list. A solicitor and an ironmonger.’
‘And we have one more, which you will have no trouble in believing,’ Salter said, still grinning broadly. ‘Boyland is the minister in a small Methodist chapel in Victoria.’
Riley rolled his eyes. ‘And the other two?’
‘Still trying to track them down.’
Sergeant Barton put his head round the door. ‘I have a man by the name of Grant at the front desk. Says you will want to talk to him about this case.’
‘His name is on the list,’ Salter said. ‘He’s one I couldn’t track down.’
‘Obviously wants to do his civic duty,’ Barton said, chuckling.
‘Very well. Show him in. We’ll talk to him in here.’
The man who shuffled through the door was short—not much more than five feet—with a round, shiny bald head that resembled an egg. He wore wire-rimmed spectacles perched on the end of his nose, was smartly dressed and had to be at least fifty. His air of respectability made him seem an unlikely candidate for the type of punishments Adelaide routinely dealt out. His perversion was confirmed when he lowered himself gingerly onto the chair that Riley indicated, having first extracted a dazzling white handkerchief from his pocket and fastidiously dusted the seat.
‘Thank you for coming to see me, Mr Grant. I am Inspector Rochester and this is Sergeant Salter. You have saved my detectives the trouble of tracking you down.’
‘I heard of the incident this morning,’ Grant replied briskly, ‘and knew you would want to talk to me. Frankly, I would prefer for that conversation to take place here, rather than at my place of employment or my home.’
‘What is your line of work?’
‘I am a senior clerk for a shipping company situated on the wharf, with a reputation to maintain. I cannot have details of my private affairs becoming public knowledge.’ He shook his round head decisively. ‘Oh dear me, no. That would never do.’
Salter asked for his employer’s name and Grant supplied the information reluctantly. ‘I cannot see what help that will be to your enquiries, indeed I cannot. My duties for Frobisher and Sons have absolutely nothing to do with my personal life.’
‘I will be frank with you, Mr Grant,’ Riley said, studying the odd little man, unsure quite what to make of him. ‘I find it hard to believe that a man in your position could afford Adelaide’s services.’
‘I have given many loyal years of service to my employers, and they recompense me accordingly. They think very highly of me and depend upon me to keep business flowing efficiently.’ He sat a little straighter and grasped his lapels, clearly proud of his achievements. ‘I am unmarried, inspector, and my mother recently died, leaving me an annuity. I neither drink nor smoke. I am a pillar of the local church and Adelaide is…was, my only indulgence.’ He removed his handkerchief from the pocket to which he had returned it and mopped his brow. ‘I don’t know what I shall do without her.’
‘You were with her last night?’
‘Indeed, I was her first client. I always like to go first, when she is still full of energy and enthusiasm and hasn’t been sullied by anyone else.’
‘Did you remain after that?’
‘No, of course not.’ He looked shocked by the suggestion. ‘Why would I?’
‘There was a party,’ Salter said. ‘Don’t you like them, either?’
‘No, sergeant, I do not. I went there for one reason and one reason only. The same reason all of Adelaide’s clients went there, I would imagine. She is…was, the best whore in the business when it came to fulfilling…certain desires, and was worth every penny I spent on her. I have a very high tolerance for pain, or I thought I had. But Adelaide persuaded me to stretch my boundaries. She knew I could take more, even though I did not, and that the rewards would more than compensate for the additional discomfort.’ He allowed himself a small smile, as though he had achieved something remarkable. In his eyes, he very likely had. ‘And she was right, of course. Needless to say, I would have tried it anyway, simply to please her. Men of my persuasion always go that extra mile to please their dominatrix. It is our raison d’être.’
Salter grunted and opened his mouth to speak but Riley, sensing that his comments would be derogatory, silenced him with a look.
‘Adelaide knew exactly how far to take matters so that I could achieve more satisfactory release. I cannot reach it any other way,’ he added casually, as though discussing the weather. ‘I am a man like any other and have my needs. Can you imagine how frustrating it is not to be able to satisfy them?’
Riley exchanged a glance with Salter, surprised that such a prim individual could talk about his sexual peccadillos in such clinical terms without showing the least sign of embarrassment.
‘You left at what time?’ Salter asked.
‘A little after nine. I went straight home to my rooms in Langley Street. I live alone and spoke to no one, so I’m afraid I can’t prove it. Hopefully you will take my word for it. I am a God-fearing man and always speak the truth. I did not kill Adelaide, but might well be tempted to murder whoever did. He has selfishly deprived London of its best dominatrix.’ He shook his round head, sanctimonious in his disapproval. ‘Those of us who appreciated her unique talents will find her impossible to replace.’
‘Did she seem the same as always last night?’ Salter asked.
‘I noticed no particular changes in her manner. It was her job to give orders and mine to obey them without question. That is how it works. If I took it upon myself to instigate a conversation she would punish me by…well, by withholding punishment. I would not take that risk for any consideration, no matter how curious I might have been about her background, I can assure you of that.’
‘Blimey…’ Salter muttered, earning a frown from Riley.
‘Was there something else you wished to add?’ Riley asked when Grant opened his mouth and then snapped it shut again without speaking.
‘I am unaware if she told anyone this and cannot think what help it will be to your enquiry. However, I will tell you myself rather than have you hear a biased account from a third party.’ He rotated his head, ran a finger around his collar and then looked Riley square in the eye. ‘I offered to help the girl out by marrying her.’
‘You did what?’ Salter’s eyes bulged. ‘When? How long ago?’
‘A few months back. I made her a business proposition. I did not love her, nor she me, but I did have an ongoing need for her services. I saw her regularly, once a week, and it was getting to the stage when that was no longer enough for me. I disliked making the journey to Maiden Lane and waiting my turn if someone got there ahead of me so it would have suited me to have her at home, willing to oblige me whenever the need arose. I told her that I was a man of modest means and that if she became my wife, she would only have my needs to concern herself with, and the rest of the time would be her own.’
‘You said you wanted to help her out,’ Riley said. ‘What did you mean by that?’
‘I should have thought that would be obvious.’ Grant tutted. ‘She need not have intercourse with any man ever again.’
Riley fought to disguise his surprise. ‘You and she did not…’
‘Oh no, inspector.’ Grant looked scandalised by the suggestion. ‘Cleanliness is next to godliness. I would never take that risk, knowing that she had been with countless other men. One never knows what diseases…No, she gave me a helping hand to achieve release, and her permission to do so.’
‘Her permission?’ Riley almost smiled at his sergeant’s bewilderment.
‘She was in control, always. I have a great deal of responsibility in my daily life, sergeant, which sometimes feels like a heavy burden. Part of Adelaide’s skill was to relieve that pressure by reversing roles. She gave the orders. All I had to do was obey them and enjoy myself. Believe me, it can be cathartic.’
‘She didn’t accept your proposal?’ Riley asked.
‘No. I’m sorry to say that she refused to see the benefits and preferred to carry on the way she was.’
‘Did that make you angry?’
‘I looked upon it as an inconvenience, inspector. But then she was a woman. One cannot expect females to have logical brains.’
‘I hear tell she was educated and could hold intelligent conversations on a whole range of subjects,’ Salter said.
‘Maybe so, but she showed a marked lack of sense in rejecting my proposal.’
‘Did you propose a second time?’ Salter asked. ‘I assume you thought she might have had a change of heart when she’d had time to consider the advantages of the match.’
‘I did, but with the same discouraging result.’ He sighed. ‘And so we resumed our normal activities and the matter wasn’t referred to again.’
‘I see.’ Riley steepled his fingers beneath his chin as he studied the man seated before him. Grant stared directly back at Riley, blinking like an owl behind his spectacles, his expression unguarded. He was either telling the truth or was one of those rare individuals who could lie convincingly without giving himself away. Riley had yet to decide which.
‘Thank you for being so candid, Mr Grant.’ He stood to indicate that the interview was at an end.
‘Honesty is the best policy, I find, inspector.’
‘I hope it will not be necessary to speak with you again but if the need arises, you can be assured of our discretion.’
‘Catch whoever did this, Inspector Rochester,’ Grant said. ‘In my opinion, someone who disapproves of or fails to understand the needs of those of us who enjoy domination is attempting to punish us. Sadly, I have absolutely no idea who, but if any thoughts occur to me in that regard I shall be sure to let you know.’
‘Your cooperation is appreciated.’
Grant nodded and shuffled from the office slowly, clearly enjoying the painful reminder of the previous evening that his movements brought back to him.
‘Don’t say a word, Jack,’ Riley said, falling back into his chair and laughing. ‘Not one blasted word…’
‘It takes all sorts, don’t it, sir? But I think we can put him to the bottom of the list of suspects.’
‘Not necessarily. He treads a fine line between self-resect and conceit, and probably thought that Adelaide would jump at the chance of marrying him. Even so, he is fastidious and would have been covered in blood himself if he had slit her throat in a jealous rage. I think he would have found that more repulsive than the killing itself.’
‘He might not have had any clothes on at the time,’ Salter pointed out. ‘And there was a bathroom off that bedroom where he could have cleaned himself up.’
‘He thought he was being magnanimous in offering to marry a woman he considered beneath him. He referred to her as a whore, if you recall. She turned him down, probably laughed at him, and his pride took a denting. We’ve seen more than once during the course of our work that wounded pride can drive the most unlikely people into murderous rages.’
‘But we wouldn’t have suspected him of being anything other than harmless if he hadn’t told us that he’d proposed to Adelaide. Why would he do that when it must have been obvious to him that we didn’t know anything about it?’
‘As he said himself, he wasn’t sure if she had told any of the other girls about the proposal. He wasn’t to know they weren’t on friendly terms and probably assumed they compared notes on their customers when alone. Mirabelle and Adelaide put on a show for them at the beginning of every party that would have made them seem, quite literally I’m sure, like bosom friends. If Grant was her first customer, he would have witnessed their act and been taken in by it because Adelaide’s words and actions were never to be questioned.’ Riley laced his fingers behind his head and leaned back in his chair. ‘No, I think Grant is very clever and may possibly be trying to mislead us. His name stays on the list of suspects.’
‘He says he’s a God-fearing man, but engages in unnatural practises. Makes you wonder.’
‘One of Adelaide’s customers last night was a minister,’ Riley reminded him.
Salter grimaced. ‘There is that.’
‘Grant may have told the truth when he said that he didn’t love Adelaide, but there’s no question that he was obsessed with her. And we’ve frequently seen where obsessions can lead. I think he hated the thought of her being contaminated by other men who were not as fastidious as he is when it comes to cleanliness. With no other hobbies to occupy his leisure time, I’m guessing that obsession grew to epic proportions, resulting in a proposal that he hadn’t imagined for one minute would be declined. Grant thinks highly of himself and probably considered that he was paying her the ultimate compliment. As a professional, Adelaide had probably left him with the impression that she admired him, giving Grant the courage to propose. Only imagine his humiliation when she rejected him not once, but twice.’
‘Right, his name stays on the list then. What next?’
Harper put his head round the door. ‘We’ve found the identity of the remaining man, sir,’ he said. ‘Took a bit of digging ’cause he hadn’t used his real name. It was Sergeant Barton who recognised his alias. He’s been arrested once for causing an affray in a tavern frequented by prostitutes, but he was never convicted.’
‘Why not?’ Salter asked.
Harper shrugged. ‘Connections in the right places. He’s a senior clerk in the Home Office. He called himself Mr Bertram when he visited Mrs Sinclair’s but Bertram is his Christian name. His actual name is Bertram Wallace.’
‘Well done, Harper.’
Harper beamed at the praise and left the room.
‘Wallace is our most senior man, apart from Danforth, with arguably the most to lose,’ Riley said in a considering tone. ‘Which probably explains why he used an alias.’
‘Shall we pop off and see him now, then?’ Salter asked, rubbing his hands.
‘We’ll talk to the remaining four tomorrow. I want to speak with Adelaide’s family today.’ He stood up. ‘Come on, Jack. We’d best take the train to Hertfordshire.’