Death of a Matriarch (Riley Rochester Investigates Book 7)

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Death of a Matriarch (Riley Rochester Investigates Book 7) Page 18

by Wendy Soliman


  She smiled. ‘There are people, very important people, promoting my career. You will hear of me soon enough, Chief Inspector.’

  Riley could see that she believed what she said and shook his head in bemusement at her quite extraordinary vanity.

  ‘Stop wasting my time, Miss Sutherland.’ Riley didn’t raise his voice but spoke with enough venom to make the young woman blink. Men of all ages did not customarily take her to task, he sensed. ‘Tell me instead who the man was that you were seen letting out of the house early on the morning after the murder.’

  ‘What do you mean? What man? There was no man that I saw.’

  She shook her head in apparently genuine confusion. Riley reminded himself that she was an actress, trained to control her responses. Be that as it may, she could not control her pallor. Her face had drained of colour and he noticed a tremor in her hands seconds before she grasped them in her lap.

  ‘You are mistaken, Chief Inspector. If there was a man then I did not see him, since I did not leave my bed.’

  ‘Clifford told you that he expected a sizeable inheritance when his grandmother died,’ Riley said, not pressing her on the question of the man for the time being, ‘but you knew as soon as you met the lady that she had your measure and would not reward Clifford if he married you. That must have come as quite a blow to your self-esteem, but it would also have left you with a dilemma. You are fond of young Clifford. He’s like a puppy dog, totally devoted to you and—’

  ‘Or he was until he caught you playing happy families with his uncle,’ Salter growled. ‘I reckon he cooled off a bit sharpish after that, especially since you’d convinced him that you were virtuous. No man likes to be taken for a mug.’

  ‘As my sergeant rightly points out, even a besotted youth has his limits. But I don’t think you minded too much about hurting his feelings, did you? In fact you were delighted to see him and his uncle fighting over your questionable favours because there is nothing you like better than being centre stage…quite literally. And you will do just about anything to achieve that ambition. Clifford’s uncle has connections in the industry that can benefit you. There is nothing that Clifford himself can offer that will help your career if his grandmother cuts him off, other than youthful devotion.’

  ‘Nonsense! I tried to stop them fighting. Ask anyone. The gentleman who separated them will tell you.’ She flicked a stray strand of hair over her shoulder in an affected manner. ‘He is a devoted fan.’

  Her narcissism, Riley thought, knew no bounds.

  ‘You were glad in some respects that Clifford knew because there’s now nothing left to stop Axton from leaving his wife and setting up home with you.’ Riley lowered his voice. ‘You set out intending to exploit his contacts but genuinely fell in love with him, and he with you.’

  She glanced at her folded hands. Emotion flickered through her eyes and Riley knew that finally they were seeing the real person beneath all the pretence. He was surprised to notice a flash of vulnerability. ‘Yes,’ she said, so softly that Riley strained his ears to catch the word. ‘That wasn’t supposed to happen, but it did.’

  ‘And with Lady Pemberton out of the way, Axton will get his hands on his wife’s inheritance.’

  She lifted her head and smiled at Riley, a provocative smile that confirmed Riley’s suspicions, even though she would never verbally make the admission. Despite the momentary vulnerability she was a cold, calculating woman who, indirectly or otherwise, had been the cause of Lady Pemberton’s death, and Riley heartily disliked her.

  ‘Lady Pemberton is…was a hypocrite,’ she said in a matter of fact tone. ‘One could say that she got what she deserved.’

  ‘What do you mean by that?’ Riley asked.

  ‘What I say. She did not like me and that sentiment was returned tenfold. She judged the moral conduct of others, seeming to forget that she herself was once young.’

  ‘I still fail to understand your meaning,’ Riley said.

  ‘And I am not about to do your work for you, Chief Inspector.’ She inverted her chin. ‘I did not like Lady Pemberton but I did not murder her, and if you think I did then it is for you to prove it, which you cannot since there is no evidence to be found. Now, if there is nothing more, I am due at the theatre in less than an hour.’

  ‘Then don’t let us detain you,’ Riley replied, not bothering to stand as Miss Sutherland got up and was escorted from Scotland Yard.

  ‘Blimey,’ Salter said, as the two detectives returned to Riley’s office. ‘I’ve met some cold-hearted women in my time but that once is in a class of her own.’

  ‘She is indeed, Jack. Most dislikeable.’

  ‘Do you think she knows about Lady Pemberton’s past? She could be our blackmailer.’

  ‘She knows something, or at least she thinks she does. She also thinks she’s cleverer than we are, which might yet prove to be her downfall. I want to know everything there is to know about her, Jack. Forget about going to the college tomorrow, that can wait. I want you and Peterson to delve into Doreen Sutherland’s background. Start asking questions as the theatre where she’s performing, especially among the other female members of the cast. She’s bound to have made enemies amongst them since she dislikes competition from her own sex. Besides, the theatrical world is very insular and actors like nothing better than to gossip about one another.’

  Riley’s mind briefly dwelt upon his own father’s tawdry affair with an actress who was subsequently murdered. The scandal would have rocked the aristocracy if Riley’s father had been named. Happily, Jake had become involved and discovered the identity of the actual murderer. Riley had never forgotten how easily the crime could have been pinned on his father, since all the obvious evidence had pointed in his direction. Had it not been for Jake’s diligence… The young Riley had been intrigued by Jake’s methods and it was then that he knew what he intended to do for a living when his education was complete.

  Riley had vowed that he would not be the type of detective who took things at face value, or allowed his own prejudices to cloud his judgement. He neither liked nor approved of Miss Sutherland’s conduct, but he wouldn’t charge her with murder—or even with being an accessory to the crime—unless and until he was satisfied of her guilt.

  ‘If there’s something untoward about her, her fellow actors will tell you,’ Riley said.

  ‘Right you are, sir. What now?’

  ‘We shall wait for Peterson to come back from quizzing Lady Pemberton’s cook about Pamela’s first love. I still think there might be something there.’

  ‘Talk of the devil,’ Salter said, when the gangly young detective constable tapped at the open door and walked into the room.

  ‘What news do you have for us, Peterson?’ Riley asked.

  ‘Mrs Jordan was happy to gossip about Pamela,’ he said, consulting his dog-eared notebook. ‘Seems that in her youth she was deeply in love with one Graham Horton.’

  ‘The Graham Horton?’ Riley asked, sitting forward. ‘The Earl of Doncaster’s younger son who ended up going to gaol for theft?’

  ‘Apparently so,’ Peterson said. ‘Pamela knew him before his fall from grace, of course, and was devastated when her mother refused to give her permission for the marriage. There was shouting and ranting heard all over the house, the cook recalls. Pamela, it seems, confided in her maid that she intended to elope but—’

  ‘But when Horton realised he wouldn’t get his hands on her dowry if the mother disapproved of the match, he disappeared faster than a pick-pocket in a crowded street,’ Riley said, drawing his brows together in disapproval. ‘Which shows that the affection was very much one-sided. Horton was and probably still is a rotten apple. I would imagine he’s out of gaol by now, but his family won’t want to know him, so how the devil is he making ends meet?’ Riley paused. ‘I wonder…Barton!’

  ‘You yelled, sir,’ the uniformed sergeant said, putting his head around the door a minute or two later.

  ‘Do you remember Graham Hort
on?’

  ‘A bad lot. Banged up in Wandsworth for a long stretch but probably out now. I assume you want me to find out.’

  ‘If you please.’

  ‘Consider it done.’

  ‘You reckon he’s been in touch with Pamela? Seeing as how the young lady could see no bad in him.’ Salter sniffed. ‘Mind you, she’s older now, and a mother twice over, so you’d think she might be a bit wiser too.’

  ‘She’s dissatisfied with her life, her marriage, with everything, and feels unfulfilled. She probably bore her mother a grudge, holding her responsible for her inability to achieve her heart’s desire.’

  Salter’s bushy brows twitched. ‘What, even when Horton upped and left her the minute he knew he weren’t going to get rich through her?’

  ‘Even then. Females, dissatisfied females, are not always rational. She probably still remembers how she felt when Horton first paid court to her. He will have spun her some tale about being wrongly imprisoned and being forcibly prevented by his connections from going through with the elopement and she will believe it because she wants it to be the truth.’

  ‘But even if he was the mystery man, why would Miss Sutherland have been letting him out of the house?’

  ‘Perhaps she didn’t, Jack. About the only reaction of that young woman’s that I thought wasn’t contrived was when I asked her about the man seen leaving. She seemed to be genuinely in the dark about that. But Pamela is blonde too, and takes care of herself. Clifford says she does everything in her power to hold on to her youth. The coal merchant only saw a slim, blonde woman for a moment and not close enough to estimate her age. We assumed it was Miss Sutherland, but it could just as easily have been Mrs Kinsley.’

  ‘So what you’re suggesting is that Horton knows he can manipulate Pamela, and with the old lady out of the way…’

  Riley gave a grim nod. ‘Quite.’

  ‘What we now know for definite is that Doreen Sutherland and Axton have been at it like rabbits,’ Salter chuckled gleefully. ‘I shouldn’t like to be in Axton’s shoes when his wife learns what happened this afternoon—which she will soon enough. She seems a mousy type, but she obviously adores the slippery cove she married. She makes allowances for his lapses, but won’t take kindly to his falling for one of his conquests.’

  ‘If he has a lick of sense, he will tell her himself before she hears it second hand. God alone knows how Pamela Kinsley will react when she learns that her son has been cuckolded by her own sister’s husband, but that is not our concern.’

  ‘Unless someone else gets topped,’ Salter said, still amused. ‘They say women are less inclined to violence but we know better than that; especially when they’ve been played for fools.’

  ‘So we have Sutherland and Axton with a motive, and now we also have Pamela and Horton’s fond reconciliation to consider. Perhaps Pamela kept half the money her mother gave her for herself with the intention of going off with Horton and considered the half she gave to her husband sufficient to wash her hands of him. The amount she kept back would be enough to set them up and would also explain why she was so keen to marry her daughter off. With her off her hands, she probably decided that her husband and Clifford could take care of themselves with the funds she left to her husband and she could leave with a clear conscience.’

  ‘We still don’t know who the blackmailer was, though, do we, sir?’

  ‘True, Jack, and that worries me. Hopefully Carter and Soames will dig something up at Somerset House.’

  Riley sent Salter back to his duties. He himself attended a meeting with his two inspectors and updated himself on the progress they had made in their respective cases. One had been solved and the perpetrator charged; two more were progressing to his satisfaction. He recommended lines of enquiry that had not yet been embarked upon, then returned to his own office and continued to read Lady Pemberton’s journals, feeling like a voyeur.

  After an hour he had found nothing of interest and decided to call it a day. He was due to meet Danforth, and in the light of recent developments he was especially keen to hear how Pamela Kinsley had occupied her day. Just before he left, the ever-efficient Barton informed him that Horton had been released a few months previously.

  ‘Thank you very much, Sergeant. That is most helpful.’

  ‘Happy to oblige, as always.’

  Danforth was waiting for Riley when he arrived at The Feathers. Riley ordered himself a tankard of ale that he was unlikely to drink and joined his former senior officer at a quiet corner table.

  ‘I take it you have not yet identified the perpetrator,’ Danforth said by way of greeting, a note of censure in his tone that Riley chose to ignore.

  ‘What news do you have for me?’ he asked, watching Danforth’s Adam’s apple at work as he swallowed half his ale in one swig.

  ‘She’s done nothing suspicious. Only left the house once, and that was with her daughter. They went to Jay’s General Mourning Warehouse in Regent Street and then returned directly home. They didn’t speak with anyone.’

  Riley took a cautious sip of his ale, pulled a face and put it aside.

  ‘Do you recall the Graham Horton case?’

  Danforth closed his eyes in an effort to recollect. ‘I do,’ he said, opening them again. ‘A nasty piece of work. One of your lot who accepted invitations to house parties and then filched whatever he could carry. Dealt with severely and put away to fester in Wandsworth for years. Probably out by now.’

  ‘He is, so Barton informs me.’

  ‘Why are you interested in him?’

  ‘Because I am reliably informed that he was Mrs Kinsley’s first love.’

  ‘Ah, I see. Do you know where he’s living?’

  ‘He’s not with his family. They have washed their hands of him. Keep on Mrs Kinsley, please. I have a feeling the two of them are in contact. She will deny it if I ask her, so I would prefer to question her from a position of strength. A stranger was seen being let out of the house on the morning after the murder. I’d like to know what Horton looks like now so that I can compare him to the rather vague description I have of the stranger, who almost certainly committed the murder.’

  ‘Why else would he have been in the house?’

  Riley allowed himself the suggestion of a smile. ‘Mr and Mrs Kinsley occupy separate rooms.’

  ‘Ah. With you.’ Danforth sniffed. ‘That would be taking a bit of a risk though, wouldn’t it? If they didn’t kill the old bird and there was a possibility of their being caught.’

  ‘That is what I shall ask Mrs Kinsley once I am better acquainted with the facts.’

  ‘Well then, I’ll see what I can do.’

  ‘I will see you here at the same time tomorrow but if you have anything compelling to tell me before then, send word to the Yard.’ Riley stood, leaving his tankard of ale untouched. ‘Good afternoon to you.’

  ‘Aye, that,’ Danforth said wearily.

  Riley arrived home to find Sophia once again fussing over Bertie and his mother trying hard to appear disapproving.

  ‘Really, Riley, you should not encourage the child.’

  ‘Encourage her to do what, Mother? Show compassion? Do something that gives her pleasure?’

  ‘That is not what I meant, and well you know it.’

  ‘Do I?’ Riley had just returned from looking the horse over, leaving his niece brushing his now gleaming coat. A single day had already made a big different to the creature’s appearance. That along with decent food and some rest. ‘We both know that Sophia has not had a happy time of it in Chichester these past years. Now it’s her turn to shine and for her personality to blossom. We shouldn’t try to curb her spirit.’

  His mother tutted. ‘What will Henry do with that bag of bones?’ But her protest lacked teeth.

  ‘Your mother is the product of a different generation, when the rules were stricter, and feels that she ought to object to anything that she looks upon as being the slightest bit unconventional,’ Amelia said, after the family
had left them. ‘But she is inordinately fond of her granddaughter, and proud of her achievements too.’

  ‘As well she should be.’ Riley sat beside his wife and slipped an arm around her shoulders. ‘I meant to warn you not to say anything about our plans to find a country home.’

  ‘Because she will insist upon us living at Chichester Hall. Yes, I had already thought of that and would much prefer to have a place of our own.’

  ‘Then it’s settled. Once this case is solved, I shall take it upon myself to inspect suitable properties in Kent.’

  ‘Kent?’ Amelia ran the word across her tongue. ‘I like the idea of that. We shall grow a steady supply of apples for Sophia’s horse.’

  Riley laughed. ‘And I like the idea of spending the rest of the evening alone with you, which is precisely what I intend to do.’

  Chapter Fifteen

  Riley arrived early at the Yard the following morning, aware that the more time that passed the harder it would become to unravel the tangle of lies and half-truths he had been told by Lady Pemberton’s relatives. With the exception of Anthea Kinsley, none of them seemed unduly distressed by her death, but Riley was no nearer to deciding which of them had actually killed her.

  ‘Morning, Jack,’ Riley said when Salter put his head around Riley’s door, shaking rainwater from the brim of his bowler. ‘Didn’t know there’d been a shower. I must have dodged it. Anyway, I thought you were bound for theatreland this morning.’

  ‘Morning, sir. It occurred to me that the best time to get hold of them theatrical types would be in the evening, after their performance, so I took myself off there last night and had a bit of a sniff about. I took the liberty of sending Peterson to Hitchin this morning to ask about Isolde and Maria.’

  ‘Good thinking.’ Riley sat behind his desk and leaned back in his chair, motioning Salter to one in front of it. ‘Learn anything useful? I think you most likely did. You have that satisfied look about you that I have come to depend on over the years.’

 

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