Death of a Matriarch (Riley Rochester Investigates Book 7)

by Wendy Soliman

  Salter thrust out his chin and grunted pugnaciously. Mrs Kinsley flinched and looked very pale, but didn’t utter a word.

  ‘You decided that you would marry your daughter off to the first eligible party and then leave your ungrateful husband and son to their own devices. But Anthea is proving very stubbornly disinclined towards marriage and her grandmother supported her desire to remain single and improve her education. That must have infuriated you, to say nothing of delaying your plans indefinitely. Your mother was again preventing you for being with Horton, but this time you would find a way to gainsay her—or you would have but for your daughter’s determination to have her own way when you yourself hadn’t been permitted the same luxury at her age. You are not the maternal type but even you couldn’t ruin Anthea’s chances of making a good match by deserting your husband and creating a scandal.’

  ‘So,’ Salter growled, ‘you had to wait yet again. But this time you wouldn’t deny yourself a little pleasure in the meantime, and you let Horton into the house. Together, you and he smothered the old lady.’

  ‘No!’ She leapt out of her seat. ‘That’s nonsense!’

  ‘Then you felt remorse and carefully arranged your mother’s body to make it look as though she had simply fallen asleep and not woken,’ Riley added, watching as Salter’s hand on her shoulder kept Mrs Kinsley confined to her seat.

  ‘Don’t mess the Chief Inspector about,’ Salter said, leaning close to the woman, his tone tight with controlled anger. ‘I don’t approve of what you’re up to and I’ve half a mind to throw you into one of our cells with all the other whores. At least they can claim poverty as an excuse for their behaviour.’

  Mrs Kinsley shuddered.

  ‘I have resumed my friendship with Mr Horton, I won’t deny it,’ she said, struggling for a dignified mien, ‘but he was not at my mother’s house that night, or any other, and you cannot prove otherwise. I am not completely without finer feelings, you know, and I always put my family first.’

  ‘This is becoming tedious,’ Riley said with a weary sigh, ‘and I am on the point of allowing my sergeant to carry out his threat and lock you away.’

  ‘Why? I have not committed any crime.’

  ‘Striking up a friendship or more outside of marriage might place your moral conduct under question, but it is not against the law, I agree with you there.’

  ‘Well then…’

  ‘Maybe we’ll do you with nicking them boxes,’ Salter said.

  ‘They were mine anyway!’

  ‘Either way, lying to a police officer most assuredly is a crime.’ Riley kept his voice low and it sounded more threatening as a consequence. ‘You were seen letting Horton out,’ he added, even more quietly.

  She crumpled like a pack of cards, dropped her head into her splayed hands and wept. Riley felt not one iota of sympathy for a situation she had brought on herself and waited her out in silence.

  ‘The blasted coal merchant,’ she said, sniffing and wiping her eyes with the corner of a lace handkerchief. ‘I had forgotten it was his day and I was sure he hadn’t seen us.’

  ‘To be clear, are you admitting to colluding in your mother’s murder?’ Riley asked.

  ‘No, Lord Riley, I most definitely am not, since neither Graham nor I had anything to do with it.’

  ‘Then why was he at the house?’ Riley waved aside his own question. ‘I understand why, naturally, but were you not taking the most terrible risk? He had a room. Surely it would have been safer to meet there?’

  ‘Not really. It’s a poor area and I stood out. I dislike my husband, who is a grave disappointment to me. You got that part right. But I would not deliberately embarrass him by being seen consorting with another man. Well, in all honesty, I was more concerned about news of Graham’s release reaching Mother’s ears. She knew I hadn’t forgiven her for separating us, and probably guessed that I still constantly thought about him.’

  ‘And now you don’t need to worry about what your mother knows no more,’ Salter said. ‘Convenient, that.’

  Riley sensed that his sergeant was working up to a moral lecture and silenced him with a look. He didn’t want Mrs Kinsley to lose the desire to justify herself.

  ‘Graham enjoys taking chances. He says it adds…well, never mind what he says. That is between us.’ She sat straighter, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. ‘He said it would be revenge against Mama for separating us. She would never know what was happening across the corridor from her room, and he said it would give us both considerable satisfaction thinking about her reaction if she ever found out.’

  Riley sighed, unsurprised that even the most sensible and respectable of women could be persuaded to behave rashly by a silver-tongued scoundrel. Riley clearly recalled that Graham Horton had been described in such terms on many occasions and by many women before his incarceration. ‘What time did he arrive?’

  ‘Four in the morning.’

  ‘Four?’ Riley’s brows shot up. ‘How could you be sure you would be awake at that time to let him in.’

  She gave a half-smile. ‘I was awake, Lord Riley. Never doubt it.’

  ‘Why so late?’

  ‘Graham plays cards for a living. He has no choice in the matter,’ she said in response to Riley’s sceptical look. ‘With his past, no regular employer will give him the time of day and nor will his family, so he is obliged to find alternative ways of supporting himself.’

  ‘He’s a professional gambler?’ Salter asked in a dubious tone. ‘And you finance his endeavours.’

  ‘He is, Sergeant, and I do. He plays at the Fairmount Club in Piccadilly. Games there finish at three so he knew the earliest he could get to me would be four.’

  ‘You kept back half the money your mother gave you from the sale of her jewels in order to finance your life with Horton,’ Riley said.

  ‘Yes.’ She frowned. ‘Although I was unaware that was where it had come from. I assumed I would have my share of that collection. I was counting on it, in fact, so what you told us today came as a severe blow.’

  ‘You ran off to tell Horton the bad news the moment you found out.’

  ‘Ah, that’s how discovered us. You had me followed.’ She bit her lower lip. ‘I should have guessed.’

  ‘Horton abandoned you when he knew he wouldn’t be able to get his hands on your dowry, and you weren’t prepared to give up your life of respectability if history was about to repeat itself. So you went, if you will excuse the analogy, to lay your cards on the table and make your position clear.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said succinctly.

  ‘It still didn’t occur to you that he’d disappear in a flash once he got his hands on whatever you gained from your mother’s will?’ Salter asked incredulously. ‘You actually trust him?’

  Mrs Kinsley elevated her chin. ‘With my life.’

  ‘You’d already given him odds and ends to help him out.’ Riley waved towards the trinket boxes with one hand.

  ‘He sold one so that he would have the stakes for his first poker game. He refused my offer of funds,’ she said triumphantly, clearly unable to see that it had been a clever ploy on Horton’s part to convince her that he was a reformed character. ‘He has his pride. He has also done well at the tables and hasn’t needed to sell anything else that I have given him.’

  ‘Even so, the news about the jewels came as a serious blow to your plans.’

  ‘Graham did not desert me when we were younger,’ she said in an adamant tone. ‘My mother and his father colluded to keep us apart. Graham was sent to Jamaica to manage his father’s plantation, and his letters to me were intercepted and destroyed.’ Riley and Salter exchanged a glance. It was clear that she believed what she had been told, and Riley didn’t bother to disabuse her. ‘There were some difficulties in Jamaica and it didn’t work out. He came home after I was married and didn’t dare to get in touch. He never stopped loving me, but he imagined that my feelings for him had altered.’ She shook her head, her eyes shining with misgui
ded fervour. ‘Only imagine.’

  ‘He came back and finished up in prison,’ Salter said curtly.

  ‘He and his father argued. His father is dogmatic and poisoned the minds of influential employers against Graham. He fell in with bad company as a consequence, he freely admits that, but has paid a heavy price and is ready to settle down and start anew.’

  ‘Course he is,’ Salter muttered.

  ‘He is a good man, Sergeant. He may have made mistakes, but he did not kill my mother. I swear that on my life.’

  Oddly enough, Riley believed her. ‘Very well, you may go,’ he said. ‘For now.’

  She gathered up her stocking purse along with her dignity and stood.

  ‘You think she was telling the truth?’ Salter asked, once he’d seen her off the premises.

  ‘I do, Jack,’ Riley replied. ‘We know from Maynard’s post-mortem that Lady Pemberton was dead by two o’clock at the latest. If the other players at the Fairmount confirm that Horton didn’t leave the table until just before four, then he is in the clear.’

  ‘She ain’t, though.’

  ‘No, she is not, but I actually don’t think she did it, even though she has stored up years of resentment against every single member of her family—her mother especially.’ He sighed. ‘She is misguided and we both know that Horton will desert her as soon as he’s had what he wants from her, which is all the money she can give him. I hope she has the sense to keep some of it, at least, in her own name. Anyway, let’s see what Horton has to say for himself.’

  The two detectives entered the interview room that smelled of sour bodies and fear. At a signal from Riley, the uniformed constable watching over Horton withdrew.

  ‘Clever move that, bringing Pamela in and letting her see me.’ Horton raised his arms above his head and indulged in an elongated stretch. ‘I suppose you think I bumped the old lady off. I didn’t, but I’d like to shake the hand of the man who rid the world of the old harridan. He did us all favour.’

  Riley sat sideways on his chair, crossing his legs and affecting boredom.

  ‘He’s all yours, Sergeant,’ he said with a casual flip of one wrist.

  Salter salivated as he grabbed Horton by the scruff of the neck and yanked him out of his chair.

  ‘I can’t abide men who dally with married women,’ he growled, shaking the much smaller man by the collar before whirling him round and slamming him into the wall of the room.

  ‘Is it my fault if Kinsley can’t keep his wife satisfied?’ Horton asked, as soon as Salter loosened his hold on him and allowed him to gulp down a few lungfuls of air. He was smirking as he straightened his jacket and brushed himself down with his hands. ‘Can’t be much of a man.’

  ‘We know you did it,’ Salter snarled as he thrust his face close to Horton’s and cracked his knuckles. ‘We have a witness who saw you leave, and who can identify you. Besides, Mrs Kinsley just admitted you were there, so you might as well confess and save us all a lot of effort.’

  ‘What exactly do you want me to confess to, Sergeant? If you are asking me if I fucked Mrs Kinsley beneath the old lady’s roof then yes, I’m happy enough to confess to that. She didn’t take much persuading. If I were not a gentleman then I might even admit that she led me on.’ He gestured with one hand. ‘If, on the other hand, you are asking whether I rid the world of her mother, then lamentably no, that was not I.’

  ‘Maybe a night or two as our guest might cause you to change your story.’

  ‘Hardly.’ Horton sent Salter a disdainful look. ‘I’ve spent years in far worse places than this, old chap. Hit me as much as you like if it makes you feel better, but I shall not be confessing to a murder that I didn’t commit. Not today. Not ever.’

  Salter accepted the invitation and punched Horton hard in the stomach, causing the man to gag and bend double. ‘Is that the best you can do?’ Horton gasped, looking faintly amused. ‘I survived inside a hellhole of a prison for a very long time. There’s nothing you can do to me that hasn’t already been done by harder men than you will ever be.’

  At a motion from Riley, Salter reluctantly spun Horton round and shoved him backwards into his chair, where he landed with a hefty thud, barely saving himself from tipping over backwards.

  ‘Why Mrs Kinsley, and why now?’ Riley asked.

  Horton gave a cocky grin. ‘Because she wants me. I had no plans to contact her when I was released, but it seems she knew I was a free man again and tracked me down. Devil if I know how she did it but she’s a determined lady who knows what she wants.’

  ‘Why should we believe that you didn’t murder her mother?’ Riley asked. ‘Look at it from our point of view. We know you were in the house that night. You were the only stranger—’

  ‘Amongst a family that’s at war with itself. All the sisters had grown tired of waiting for the old girl to drop dead. Any one of them could have done it. I hear tell that Axton has been fucking his nephew’s intended.’ He chuckled when Salter scowled. ‘Not much of a family, eh, Sergeant. The morals of alley cats, if you ask me. Absolutely no loyalty. The Huxleys aren’t above suspicion either. He keeps a mistress locally that Susan pretends not to know about, and who doesn’t come cheap by all accounts. They’re in dun territory, about to lose everything according to Pamela, but Huxley is still more interested in tupping his ladybird than in saving his livelihood.’ He shrugged. ‘Perhaps one of them was desperate enough to help the old lady on her way to a better place. You have to wonder.’

  ‘Even so, your presence in the house and the reasons for it will offend the judiciary and will easily be enough to see you swing for murder.’

  Horton’s expression sobered. ‘So you say, Lord Riley. Perhaps you are right, despite all the dirt that I could throw up about the rest of the family, casting considerable doubt on my culpability—and especially as I’m certain Pamela will be eager to acquire the best legal defence for me. That apart, I happen to know that you are a gentleman and won’t bring charges unless you’re sure you’ve got the right man and have the necessary proof to back up your allegations.’ Riley’s expression clearly told Horton that he’d got it right. ‘Bit of a bugger having a conscience, ain’t it, old chap? Wouldn’t know myself. Am I free to go?’

  ‘No.’ Riley stood abruptly. ‘Lock him up, Salter. You won’t be going anywhere until I’ve made further enquiries.’

  Horton shrugged. ‘Fine. I could do with getting some sleep. Pamela’s worn me out.’

  ‘Damn it, sir, I want it to be him!’ Salter said when he returned from handing Horton into Barton’s care. ‘But he ain’t the guilty party, is he?’

  ‘Sorry, Jack, but probably not. At least not if Maynard’s estimation of the time of death is correct, and he doesn’t usually get that sort of thing wrong. As you know, he can make accurate assessments from body temperature and the advance of rigor mortis. And if the Fairmont confirm that Horton was there until almost four in the morning…’

  ‘Well then, we’re back to square one,’ Salter said morosely. ‘It must have been Axton and Miss Sutherland. We know they spent time together and are supposedly besotted with one another.’ Salter scratched his ear. ‘Blimey, was there anyone in that household that night actually sharing a bed with their lawful spouse?’

  ‘Very possibly Axton did do it, Jack. Now that Mavis Axton is aware of her husband’s duplicitous behaviour, there’s no telling what might transpire. We shall be keeping a very careful watch on that situation in the hope that further evidence will come to light, but in the meantime, I’ve been thinking about Percy and his blackmail. How did Lady Pemberton find him?’

  Salter shrugged a beefy shoulder. ‘Perhaps he found her?’

  ‘Why, after all this time?’ Riley leaned back and tapped his index finger against his teeth. ‘I’m wondering if discovering Barlow after all these years made her think about her late husband’s unacknowledged son. She’d put his existence to the back of her mind but it still plagued her conscience. So she took steps to find him,
if only to satisfy herself that he was managing. And whom would she turn to in order to run him to earth? What organisation occupied so much of her time?’

  ‘The charity for unmarried mothers,’ Salter said, snapping her fingers.

  ‘Right, and it’s administrator is a vicar in Wapping parish, which is where the birth was registered, so presumably the mother lived in the area.’

  Salter nodded. ‘And he will have records of all babies given up for adoption or sent to the orphanage.’

  Riley glanced at his watch. ‘Time to call it a day, Jack. Get yourself home and tomorrow morning, bright and early, we shall find the clergyman and seek his help.’ Riley stood and reached for his coat. ‘Good night. My regards to Mrs Salter.’

  ‘Good night, sir.’

  Chapter Seventeen

  Riley and Amelia spent a congenial evening dining with his mother, his brother Henry and the rest of his family at Rochester House. The atmosphere remained convivial because Celia had not accompanied him to London and dampened the proceedings with her dour mood. An ebullient Sophia couldn’t stop chattering about Bertie, her charity horse. Riley teased her unmercifully, telling her that girls of her age should instead have their heads filled with the prospect of being presented.

  ‘Bah, Uncle Riley!’ Sophia flapped a hand. ‘I am already bored with that subject. So much formality makes one’s head spin. I much prefer to be spontaneous, and Bertie is an uncomplicated source of pleasure. Have you seen him today? He looks so much better already.’

  Riley was still smiling at the recollection of his niece’s enthusiasm for the wretched creature when he reached Scotland Yard the following morning. He spent an hour checking his inspectors’ progress with their cases, offering advice and reading reports.

  With his administrative duties behind him, he and Salter set off for Wapping. The rectory attached to Holy Trinity church was easy to find and the Reverend Patterson was available to receive them. A tall man with a ready smile, Riley understood almost immediately why both Lady Pemberton and Olivia thought him an improvement upon his sanctimonious predecessor.