Death of a Matriarch (Riley Rochester Investigates Book 7)

by Wendy Soliman

  ‘Sit down, Mr Kinsley,’ Riley said, calmly taking the chair on the other side of the table. ‘I am sorry if you have been inconvenienced but I hardly need remind you that your mother-in-law has been murdered.’

  ‘No. No, of course not,’ Kinsley muttered, lowering his chin and addressing the comment to the points of his collar. ‘How can I be of assistance?’

  ‘Tell me more about your investment fund.’

  Kinsley blinked. ‘What the devil has that to do with Lady Pemberton’s death?’

  Salter leaned forward and thrust his face close to Kinsley’s, causing the man to flinch. ‘We’ll ask the questions and you’ll answer them…sir,’ he added belatedly. ‘That’s the way it works with the police, unless you’d prefer to spend the night as our guest whilst you think about the wisdom of getting in the way of our enquiries. The old lags know how to make men like you feel right at home.’

  ‘Keep a civil tongue in your head, Sergeant,’ Kinsley snapped.

  ‘Answer the chief inspector’s question to his satisfaction,’ Salter snapped back, ‘and I won’t have to say nothing.’

  Kinsley sat a little straighter and appeared relatively unmoved by Salter’s menacing scowl. Riley had seen far tougher men than Kinsley reduced to quivering wrecks when faced with Salter’s belligerence. He sometimes wondered how his sergeant allied his Christian beliefs with his willingness to intimidate suspects. But Jack Salter’s methods were usually effective, Riley conceded, which probably salved his conscience. Since Kinsley had thus far withstood the intimidation without any outward signs of losing his composure, Riley wondered if he had underestimated the man, convinced as he was that he knew or suspected more about Lady Pemberton’s death than he had thus far revealed.

  Whom was he protecting? Presumably a member of his own family, since he wouldn’t lose any sleep if suspicion fell elsewhere.

  ‘What is it that you wish to know, Lord Riley?’ Kinsley asked with the utmost politeness, turning away from Salter.

  ‘Not to put too fine a point on it,’ Riley replied. ‘Everyone we have spoken to about your business has told us the same story.’ Riley paused. ‘That you are not very good at it.’

  ‘You have been speaking to my clients?’ Kinsley puffed his chest out along with cheeks that were now red with embarrassment, putting Riley in mind of an enraged bullfrog. ‘How dare you! Lady Pemberton’s death has absolutely nothing to do with my business affairs.’

  ‘You know who did it then, do you?’ Salter asked.

  ‘No, Sergeant, I do not. In fact, I remain to be convinced that she died from anything other than natural causes. Be that as it may, I do know that I did not kill her. Why on earth would I?’

  ‘As I was saying,’ Riley replied, ignoring the question. ‘We have spoken to several people who are less than impressed by your business acumen, or lack thereof. Those who originally invested saw good returns, which quickly dwindled to the extent that they withdrew their investments. Even your most loyal clients have threatened to go elsewhere. And then, out of the blue, your fund is suddenly plush with cash again.’ Riley flipped a wrist. ‘Presumably you can understand why that has made us so curious.’

  The rigidity left Kinsley’s body. ‘That’s easily explained. About six months ago, Lady Pemberton called her daughters together. She said some rather harsh things to them, by all accounts, although I was not there to hear her diatribe on this occasion, thankfully. I have been on the receiving end of her sharp tongue more than enough times.’

  ‘Ain’t no more than what you deserve, spending your life sponging off the old bird,’ Salter growled. ‘What sort of a man can’t support his own family?’

  At a look from Riley, Salter kept the rest of his thoughts on the subject to himself.

  ‘Go on,’ Riley said mildly.

  ‘Well, as I say, her ladyship called the girls together and told them she was tired of constantly being applied to for funds. Not that we ever did. As your sergeant rightly points out, we live at her expense. But in fairness, Pamela has devoted herself to looking after her mother all these years when the others couldn’t be bothered. It’s all very well for her sisters, thinking we have it easy, but nothing could be further from the truth. With the exception of my daughter, Lady Pemberton didn’t have much time for any of us, and made our lives uncomfortable in all sorts of little ways. She rather enjoyed reminding us, I think, that we were entirely dependent upon her.’

  ‘You are supposed to be telling us what Lady Pemberton said to her daughters when she called them together,’ Salter said, ‘not whining on about your own comforts.’

  ‘She told her daughters that there would be no more handouts and that we, their husbands, must take responsibility for their welfare.’ He paused to rub his nose, looking highly incensed by such a suggestion. ‘Then she gave each of them a sum of money and said there was no more where that came from so it would be pointless to ask.’

  ‘How much?’ Riley asked.

  Kinsley told him, and Riley quickly realised that the total amounted to less than half the sum she had obtained for her jewels. He wondered what had happened to the rest of it. Presumably, she had used it to pay off the blackmailer.

  ‘And that is the money you put into your fund?’

  ‘Yes. Although I believe Pamela kept a little back for expenses.’

  Salter frowned. ‘You let your missus run around with large sums of cash and don’t ask her what she plans to do with it?’ He shook his head, looking disgusted. ‘Who’s wearing the bleedin’ trousers, Mister Kinsley?’

  ‘Pamela lives in hope of seeing our daughter comfortably settled. That requires money and I don’t resent it in the least,’ Kinsley replied, his tone implying precisely the opposite.

  ‘Someone was heard arguing with Lady Pemberton on the night she died,’ Riley said, changing tack. ‘A woman. Do you have any idea who it might have been?’

  ‘None whatsoever. I didn’t hear any raised voices.’

  ‘Your wife and her sisters are not on the best of terms,’ Riley remarked. ‘There seems to be a welter of jealousy and suspicion standing in the way of any mutual affection.’

  Kinsley lifted a shoulder. ‘I don’t involve myself in women’s affairs. Besides, all families have niggling resentments, do they not?’

  Riley thought of Celia, his sister-in-law, and her jealousies and was privately obliged to agree with Kinsley.

  ‘Is there anything else I can help you with, Lord Riley? I hope that I have now explained the source of my sudden influx of capital to your satisfaction.’

  ‘You have, but…’ Riley looked over his shoulder when Sergeant Barton put his head round the door.

  ‘A word, sir, if you please.’

  Riley stood and stepped outside the room.

  ‘Thought you might like to know. I’ve just had Kinsley’s son and his Uncle Axton brought in. They’re in the cells.’

  ‘Good heavens. What have they been doing?’

  ‘Your man Stout is here too. He stopped young Kinsley from killing his uncle when he caught him tupping his intended.’

  ‘Oh dear.’ Riley ran a hand through his hair. ‘Is anyone badly hurt?’

  ‘No, sir. Just a few cuts and bruises—but only because Stout intervened and had the presence of mind to call a constable, otherwise…’ Barton shook his head. ‘Families, eh? We’d be twiddling our thumbs if they didn’t keep falling out with one another.’

  ‘Right, Barton. I’ll have a word with Stout, then the uncle. Send someone to the Audition Club and bring Miss Sutherland in, please. She is the cause of all these problems and it’s about time I had a word with her too. Put her in a cell until I’m ready for her. I am tired of these people and their ridiculous games.’

  Barton grinned. He was as keen as Salter when it came to bringing those who got above themselves down to size.

  ‘Leave it to me, sir.’

  Riley sent a hovering uniformed constable in to watch over Kinsley, beckoned Salter out of the room and
told him what had happened.

  ‘Blimey,’ his sergeant said in his usual blunt fashion. ‘What do you want to do about Kinsley? He’s anxious to get out of here.’

  ‘Let him go. I doubt whether the son will want to see him. Kinsley will find out what’s happened soon enough and probably return, demanding the release of his precious boy.’ Riley paused. ‘What was the son doing at the Audition Club at this time of day? Shouldn’t he have been hard at work, helping his father to lose more money? Was he there when Kinsley was brought in?’

  Salter went off to ask the constables who had escorted Kinsley back to the Yard and returned quickly to say that the son had indeed been there.

  ‘Probably took advantage of his father’s absence to slope off and see the girl,’ Salter said, rubbing his nose.

  Riley put his head round the interview room door. ‘Thank you for your help,’ he said. ‘You are free to go.’

  ‘Happy to do what I can,’ Kinsley replied, ‘but if you need to talk to me again, I should appreciate a little more discretion.’

  ‘Oh, we’ll be seeing you again very soon, I dare say,’ Salter muttered as they watched the man pick up his hat and leave.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Stout was waiting for Riley in his office. He looked dishevelled and had a small cut below one eye.

  ‘Are you badly hurt?’ Riley asked, frowning.

  ‘Just a scratch, my lord. Don’t concern yourself. I tried to pull young Clifford off his uncle and received a fist in the face by for my trouble. I’m not sure who threw it but know it was not intended for me.’

  ‘You shouldn’t have intervened, Stout. You’ll have a black eye tomorrow.’

  ‘I’ve survived worse, my lord.’ Stout glanced down at his torn jacket and seemed to find the damage to his clothing more worrying than his personal injury. ‘Clifford was raging. I have seen angry men in my time but he was out of control. I am sure he would have killed or severely injured his uncle if I had not involved myself.’

  ‘Axton and Miss Sutherland were intimately engaged again, I’m told. For the second time in one day.’ Riley flexed a brow. ‘One must admire their stamina.’

  ‘They were certainly closeted away in Axton’s quarters. They were both fully clothed when Clifford’s arrival interrupted them but I can’t imagine that situation would have endured for much longer, if you follow my meaning. Clifford certainly summed the situation up and reached his own conclusions.’

  ‘God will be their judge,’ Salter said, on a sour note.

  ‘I don’t suppose they expected Clifford to arrive in the middle of an afternoon when he was supposed to be working,’ Stout said. ‘They were certainly astonished by his appearance, but the young lady seemed almost delighted when Clifford threw the first punch. Her eyes lit up like beacons. She clapped her hands and told them to stop fighting at once, but it was clear to me that she had no real desire to see the brawl end.’

  ‘And she had you in her sights, Stout.’ Riley chuckled. ‘You had a lucky escape.’

  ‘So it would appear, my lord.’

  ‘Thank you, Stout. Return to Eaton Square and resume your normal duties. There’s nothing more you can achieve at the Audition Club. Oh, before you go, I don’t suppose you caught sight of the man Miss Sutherland let out of Lady Pemberton’s house loitering in the vicinity of the club?’

  Stout shook his head. ‘Regrettably not, but it did occur to me that he might be a person in Miss Sutherland’s line of work. Someone acting in her current production perhaps.’

  ‘Now that is highly possible. Do you fancy a trip to the theatre this evening?’

  ‘You know, my lord, I rather think that I do.’

  ‘Hang around the stage door when the actors arrive. That will be the best time to see their faces. If you see anyone who fits our rather nebulous description, find out his name from the doorman and let me know.’

  ‘I shall do my best to oblige.’

  ‘I have constables bringing Miss Sutherland in. A few hours in the cells might make her a little more willing to talk to us. We shall see.’

  ‘The young lady appears to be sweet and helpless but is anything other than that.’ Stout managed to remain dignified, despite his facial injury. ‘It’s my considered opinion that she is tough and ambitious and will likely attempt to work her feminine wiles on your lordship.’

  Riley laughed. ‘Thank you for the warning, but fear not, I shall find her easy to resist.’

  ‘It’s happened before,’ Salter growled. ‘But I have a few tricks of my own up my sleeve when it comes to protecting the chief inspector’s integrity.’

  Stout allowed himself the suggestion of a smile. ‘I am perfectly sure that you have the measure of such women, Sergeant,’ he said. ‘If there is nothing else, my lord…’

  ‘No. You get yourself off, and put a lump of steak on that eye.’

  ‘I shall attend to it, my lord. Good afternoon, Sergeant.’

  ‘What now?’ Salter asked, after Stout had left them.

  ‘Have Clifford brought up, Jack. We’ll talk to him first.’

  Riley was taken aback by the sight Clifford presented when Riley and Salter joined him in an interview room.

  ‘What’s all this I hear about brawling?’ Riley asked not unkindly, seating himself across from the recalcitrant young man.

  Clifford looked up at Riley through bloodshot eyes, one of which was swollen and half-closed. He had cuts and abrasions on the side of his face, the knuckles on his right hand were cut and his clothing was torn and blood-stained.

  ‘I would be swinging for murder, had someone not pulled me off the blighter,’ he replied, still fuming. ‘My own damned uncle...’ He shook his head, muttering oaths beneath his breath.

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘Your constables came to our workplace to take father away for some reason. No idea why. He wouldn’t harm a fly. No backbone. Always does what Mother tells him to.’ Clifford ran a tongue across his cut lip. ‘Anyway, Doreen…Miss Sutherland, was very upset about the murder. Well, who wouldn’t be? She was invited as a guest and then all that unpleasantness. Very fragile, is Doreen. I’ve had the devil of a job reassuring her that she won’t be marrying into a murderous bunch of desperate…’ He paused to shake his head again and winced. ‘She asked me to tell her immediately if the murderer was caught, or if there were any developments.’

  ‘Why would she do that?’ Salter asked.

  ‘Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it? She felt worried, under threat. I mean, we all do. We were there and if any of us saw anything, without even realising it, then we could be the killer’s next target. That’s what Doreen said.’

  ‘She thinks then that someone outside of the family, an intruder, killed your grandmother. And yet there is no indication that anyone broke in.’

  Clifford looked bemused. ‘I hadn’t thought of it like that. I just assumed that she required reassurance and I was ready to offer it to her.’ He shrugged. ‘In truth, any excuse to see her, to spend a few minutes in her exquisite company, and I grabbed it with both hands.’ He hung his head. ‘Damn, what a prize idiot I’ve been.’ He clenched his swollen fist and opened up one of the cuts without seeming to realise it. ‘I imagine they rolled around in bed laughing at my stupidity. I introduced Doreen to my uncle, for God’s sake, and persuaded him to give her board and lodging at preferential rates.’

  ‘I see.’ Riley leaned back and cross one leg over his opposite thigh. ‘And when you arrived at the Audition Club…’

  ‘Doreen wasn’t in her room. I asked a maid if she knew where she was and the girl hesitated. I thought she was being obtuse and got annoyed with her. Then I realised that something wasn’t quite right. The girl hadn’t hesitated because she was being insolent, but because she was embarrassed.’ He growled and his one good eye clouded with pain. ‘I heard a burst of Doreen’s laughter coming from my uncle’s private suite of rooms and still assumed there must be an innocent explanation.’ He ran a hand through his
tangled hair and gave a wry smile. ‘I am so damned dense. I know very well what my uncle is like. No attractive woman is safe from his advances but I assumed that because Doreen and I are…were—’

  ‘Take your time,’ Riley said, when Clifford’s words stuck in his throat.

  ‘I’m all right. I want…need…to talk about it. That way, it might make sense. Everyone seems to think that actresses are free with their favours, but Doreen isn’t like that.’ From which, Riley surmised, she had not given herself to Clifford. ‘I walked into my uncle’s sitting room, expecting to find them there but there was no sign of them.’

  ‘Did you not call out?’ Salter asked.

  ‘Actually, no.’ Clifford frowned, as though he couldn’t quite account for not having done so. Riley imagined he must have realised on a visceral level that he’d walked in on something he would prefer not to see, yet needed to know. ‘I thought I must have been mistaken and not heard Doreen’s voice—since if she had been in there, she would have been in the sitting room, taking tea with my aunt.’ He scowled, his face like thunder. ‘Then I glanced through the bedchamber door, and there they were, sitting on the bed, kissing one another like…well, with raw passion. She had certainly never kissed me with such abandon.’

  ‘You saw red?’

  ‘I did, Chief Inspector. Wouldn’t you have? I felt like all kinds of an idiot. I had been warned about her, repeatedly, but I didn’t listen. I was blinded by her beauty, I suppose, and proud to walk out with her on my arm and see the envy on my friends’ faces.’ He thumped the surface of the table. ‘Now all I can wonder is who else has had her and what they must have thought of me.’

  ‘So you called your uncle out and got into an altercation?’

  ‘He tried to pretend that there was nothing for me to be jealous about. That it didn’t mean anything, but I wasn’t falling for that one. There was passion in her eyes when she looked at me, and not an ounce of contrition. It was the finish of me and I swung my fist at my uncle. Caught him a right facer too,’ he added, with considerable satisfaction in his tone. ‘Took him unawares and hopefully broke his jaw. I certainly loosened a few teeth. He won’t be quite so pretty now, and I shall be interested to hear how he explains himself to my aunt. Mind you, she will take his side. I’ve known him to stray before and she always forgives him.’