Death of a Milliner: Riley Rochester Investigates Book 9 (Riley ~Rochester Investigates)

by Wendy Soliman

  ‘What part did Mrs Faulkner play in the supply of these second-rate accessories?’ Riley asked, holding up a limp silk flower. Even to his untutored eye, he could see that it was very badly made.

  ‘Her?’ Miss Sharp looked indignant. ‘She wouldn’t countenance it for a second.’

  ‘Are you telling us she wasn’t involved?’ Salter asked incredulously.

  ‘Too right I am. The sanctimonious little madam. Quite happy to bleed Ray’s customers dry with the money lending but turning out hats or any other fashion item for that matter with substandard accessories offended her sensibilities. Well, Ray and me, we weren’t nearly so particular. We can’t all be perfectionists and I understood that people have to cut their cloth, so to speak.’

  ‘You and Hatchard were responsible for supplying the goods to those who couldn’t make their repayments,’ Riley said slowly, ‘but if Mrs Faulkner didn’t arrange for her son to bring those goods in through the docks then who…’

  Miss Sharp preened. ‘I approached him about it.’

  ‘You told me you weren’t acquainted with your employer’s sons,’ Riley reminded her.

  ‘A necessary untruth.’ She waved her previous lie aside. ‘Bernard called occasionally to see his ma after we closed up for the night and the apprentices were upstairs, out of the way. He’s a shrewd one, that Bernard. He understood that his ma’s good opinion was worth cultivating. Anyway, we were all in her rooms one night, the four of us, and Ray and me, we suggested the scheme with the accessories. Bernard had told me before that he knew where he could get them cheap, but he said that the suggestion should come from us. I can see now that he didn’t want to incur his mother’s wrath if she disagreed, but I didn’t think she would. We thought she would jump at the opportunity, being aware how badly she wanted to open up in central London and show the fashionable world what she was capable of. We were flabbergasted when she went all moralistic on us.’

  ‘She didn’t know that you went ahead anyway?’

  It was Hatchard who shook his head. ‘She wouldn’t have stood for it.’

  ‘So you resorted to swindling your employer instead by forcing customers to take some of your goods rather than those supplied by Dobson’s.’

  Hatchard shrugged. ‘Not anymore.’

  ‘Bernard got cold feet,’ Miss Sharp explained disdainfully. ‘More to the point, he’s just found out that he’s his mother’s sole heir. She’s left him a pretty penny and he can live the life of the swell he aspires to be. Why do you think Ray and me were drowning our sorrows last night? Bernard intends to close the Clapham shop and throw us all out on the street. Says he doesn’t need a millstone round his neck. That’s why I’m here, rather than toiling away and keeping a weather eye on the girls. There ain’t no point anymore.’

  ‘You had expectations?’ Riley asked the woman.

  ‘Nothing grand, but I thought there might have been some recognition for all my years of loyalty.’ She shrugged. ‘Just goes to show what they say about blood being thicker than water.’

  ‘Do you know if Bernard was aware of the terms of his mother’s will before her death?’ Riley asked.

  Miss Sharp’s small eyes gleamed maliciously. ‘You think he’s the one who killed her and that he did it for her fortune?’

  ‘Answer the question,’ Salter snapped.

  ‘I couldn’t say. It wouldn’t surprise me.’ She scrunched up her nose. ‘Nothing about that family would surprise me. They’re all out for themselves.’

  Riley paused, wondering what to do with the pair of them. They would have to be arrested, since they had committed a crime and he wasn’t yet satisfied that they were not involved with Mrs Faulkner’s murder. Even so, he felt a modicum of sympathy for Miss Sharp’s plight. Mrs Faulkner had not treated her well.

  ‘Mrs Faulkner came into large amounts of money over the past few months, since Maureen left her employ. Have you any idea where it might have come from?’

  Hatchard and Miss Sharp shared a bewildered look and shook their heads in unison. ‘Don’t have a clue,’ Hatchard said for them both.

  ‘Do you consider her capable of blackmail?’

  ‘Yes,’ Miss Sharp said without pausing to consider her response. ‘She didn’t think life had treated her fairly. Well, who among us can make that claim?’ She glanced at Riley as though considering the possibility of his being able to. ‘She was constantly on the lookout for revenge any way she could get it—especially if it had to do with Madame Boise. Just the mention of her name sent Mrs F into a towering rage. It was only when it came to cutting corners with accessories that her sensibilities were offended.’ Miss Sharp huffed. ‘As though the average woman on the street would know the difference between two lengths of ribbon.’

  ‘The moneylending stops now. Immediately.’ Riley put heavy emphasis on the last word. ‘You will not collect interest or repayment and you will stop defrauding your employer, Hatchard.’

  ‘You aren’t arresting us?’ Hatchard looked bemused.

  ‘Not as things stand, but you yourself will tell your employers what you have been up to. How they deal with your disloyalty is a matter for them. Go back to Clapham, Miss Sharp, and keep the shop open for now. Until such time as Mrs Faulkner’s will is probated, there is nothing Bernard can do to close it down.’

  ‘You think he’s involved, don’t you?’ she said, looking cheered by the prospect.

  ‘What I think doesn’t signify.’ Riley turned towards the door. ‘Now go, before I regret my leniency. And make yourselves available should we need to speak with you again.’

  ‘Blimey, sir,’ Salter said as they returned to the pavement and Salter hailed a cab. ‘What’s got into you, letting them off like that?’

  ‘I actually felt a little sorry for Miss Sharp. Mrs Faulkner didn’t treat her well. She won’t have made that much from the money laundering. Hatchard’s been stringing her along. She’s desperate for his affection.’

  ‘And we know he prefers the company of young, unwilling girls,’ Salter growled.

  ‘Precisely so, Jack. Don’t worry. Dobson’s will throw him out of work and likely prosecute as well. He won’t get away with his misdeeds; nor will he be thinking about Mary Nesbitt again any time soon. He has more pressing concerns.’ They climbed into the cab that juddered to a halt in front of them. ‘Let’s return to the Yard and see what Bernard has to say for himself.’

  Chapter Thirteen

  Riley could hear Bernard Faulkner’s voice raised in loud protest as soon as he walked into the police station.

  ‘Been going on like that this half hour, so he has,’ Barton said offhandedly.

  ‘Sorry you’ve been inconvenienced.’

  ‘Nothing I ain’t heard a thousand times before.’ Barton shrugged his meaty shoulders. ‘Water off a duck’s back.’

  ‘We’ll either quieten him down or give him something to bleat about,’ Salter said, with another crack of his knuckles.

  ‘Anything I need to know about?’ Riley asked, putting his head around the room occupied by his detectives.

  ‘He’s been making that racket ever since we dragged him away from his work,’ Soames complained. ‘Says it’s beneath his dignity, being pulled in here like a common criminal. He left us in no doubt that it lessens his authority over his minions, who all watched us cart him off. Seemed to enjoy the spectacle an’ all.’ Soames chuckled. ‘Sometimes I love my work. Don’t think he makes himself too popular in his place of employment, our Bernard Faulkner. Being unpleasant seems to be a family trait.’

  ‘Got ideas above his station, that one,’ Carter added.

  ‘Where’s Peterson?’ Riley asked.

  ‘He’s gone to Victoria railway station, sir. He had a message from one of Alfred Faulkner’s fellow workers and went off to see what he wants.’

  ‘Right. Interrupt me when he comes back if it’s important.’

  ‘Will do, sir.’

  ‘Come along then, Jack. We might have to improvise a little, so
follow my lead.’

  ‘Only too glad to, sir.’

  Having divested themselves of their outdoor clothing, Salter thrust open the door to the interview room where Bernard awaited their pleasure, allowing Riley to step through it ahead of him.

  ‘About time.’ Bernard jumped to his feet. ‘What is the meaning of this outrage, Chief Inspector? I demand an answer.’

  ‘Sit down and shut it.’ Salter encouraged him to do so by placing a hand in the centre of the man’s chest and pushing him back into his chair. Riley nodded at the uniformed constable who’d been watching over Bernard and absorbing the brunt of his displeasure. The man escaped with unseemly haste. ‘Stop harping on. I’d have thought you’d be anxious to help us find out who killed your old ma, given that you won’t get your grimy hands on her fortune until the matter’s been cleared up.’

  ‘Of course I want to help.’ Bernard shook off Salter’s hand and straightened his lapels as he strove to recover his dignity. ‘I just don’t understand the need to embarrass me by pulling me from my place of work in quite so public a fashion. It’s not as if I have anything to add to what I’ve already told you and it gave entirely the wrong impression.’

  ‘You won’t need to concern yourself about that for much longer,’ Riley remarked, taking his time in seating himself. ‘You stand to inherit a substantial sum and need not continue to work for a living if you would prefer not to.’ He sent Bernard an assessing look that was not complimentary. ‘I suspect you would much prefer not to. Were you aware in advance of your good fortune?’

  ‘Heavens, no! Ma played her cards close to her chest. She never mentioned her intentions and I didn’t ask.’

  ‘But you have already spoken to her solicitor, I suspect, since news of your windfall doesn’t seem to come as any great surprise.’

  Bernard shrugged and had the grace to look embarrassed.

  ‘She ain’t even been buried and already the vultures are gathering,’ Salter muttered in disgust.

  ‘You were aware that she planned to open a new establishment in a fashionable part of town,’ Riley said. ‘That doesn’t come cheap.’

  ‘Chief Inspector, I have been hearing that lament since I was a boy.’ He flapped a dismissive hand, in control of himself again, after a fashion. ‘Nothing ever came of it.’

  ‘In that case, one assumes that it came as a complete shock—and not an unpleasant one—to discover that you were the sole heir to a substantial sum.’

  ‘I was flabbergasted, if you want to know the truth.’ Riley became immediately suspicious whenever a person felt the need to emphasise a remark by insisting upon it being the truth. ‘Makepeace contacted me, not the other way around, as your sergeant appears to think.’ He cast a scathing look over his shoulder in Salter’s direction. ‘Said it was up to me to arrange her funeral and told me why. I had absolutely no idea that she’d been so shrewd.’

  ‘Well he would say that, wouldn’t he, sir?’ Salter remarked from his place against the wall. ‘Otherwise we’d immediately suspect him of bumping her off in order to get his grubby hands on her blunt.’

  ‘Even if that had been my intention, Sergeant,’ Bernard replied with an arrogant half-smile, ‘you know I cannot have done it since I was taking breakfast as normal and have witnesses who saw me in the coffee shop.’

  ‘Actually, you don’t,’ Riley replied calmly.

  ‘I what?’ Bernard blinked at Riley and a brief flicker of fear passed through his eyes.

  ‘All anyone can say is that you’re usually there. No one recalls seeing you on the morning that specifically interests us.’

  ‘Even so, I was definitely there. Besides, if I woke up that morning and decided to kill my mother, how could I have known that she would be at Madame’s shop? It’s the last place I would expect to find her. The two women hated each another. And even if I did somehow know, how did I get in?’

  The arrogant half-smile returned, and Bernard sat back in his chair with his arms folded. Riley knew that Salter would be itching to wipe that smile off his face and was sorely tempted to allow him free rein. He didn’t have a high opinion of Bernard Faulkner and was becoming increasingly convinced that he’d had a hand in his mother’s death. But unless or until he could find a link between him and Madame Boise it would be a pointless line of questioning to pursue.

  ‘Let’s talk about your profitable sideline instead, then, shall we?’ Riley said.

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘Your mother didn’t approve. That must have come as quite a blow. You knew she wasn’t too fussy how she accumulated funds but when you put your suggestion to her, for once she dug her heels in. Did she know that you, Hatchard and Miss Sharp went ahead anyway? Was she about to blow the whistle on you? Is that why she had to be silenced?’

  Bernard sat a little straighter and lifted his chin in a futile attempt to adopt the moral high ground. ‘I have no idea what you are referring to.’

  Salter lost all patience and literally dragged Bernard from his chair by the back of his collar, almost choking him in the process. The man’s face went scarlet as the toes of his boots dangled above the ground. He flapped his arms helplessly as he coughed and wheezed. At a signal from Riley, Salter let him go again. He fell back into his chair, leaning his forearms against his splayed thighs as he struggled to get air into his lungs.

  ‘Shall we try again?’ Riley asked calmly.

  ‘I’ll have you for this.’ Bernard looked over his shoulder at Salter and shook his fist at him. ‘You can’t treat people that way, almost killing them in a thuggish need to gain a confession. Well, it won’t work with me. I shall be speaking to your superiors.’

  ‘That would be me,’ Riley informed him, ‘and your dissatisfaction with your treatment has been noted. Now then, stop wasting my time or I will allow Sergeant Salter to take over the questioning. As you already know to your cost, he is less tolerant than me.’ Riley hadn’t raised his voice, but his granite tone underlined his determination. ‘We have just spoken to your partners in crime and they have admitted everything.’

  ‘Everything?’ He looked alarmed. ‘They can’t…they don’t know—’

  ‘What don’t they know?’ Riley asked. ‘Think carefully before you try to deceive me again. My sergeant is not in the best of moods, what with it being his daughter who stumbled upon your mother’s body.’

  Bernard smirked at Salter. ‘Perhaps she killed her,’ he suggested.

  Salter punched him. His fist connected with the side of Bernard’s skull, lifting him from his chair and knocking him onto the hard floor. He landed there with a dull thud and a yelp of protest.

  ‘You haven’t killed him, have you, Jack?’ Riley asked in a disinterested tone, knowing full well that he hadn’t. Riley could have warned Bernard that only a brave man—or a foolish one with a death wish—would cast aspersions upon the characters of any of Salter’s children.

  ‘Nah.’ Salter flexed his knuckles. ‘His sort don’t die that easily, more’s the pity. The world wouldn’t miss ’em any more than I would.’

  Salter hauled the semi-conscious man back onto his chair. Bernard groaned as he held a handkerchief to a cut on the side of his head, but this time had the good sense to keep his thoughts about the sergeant’s family to himself.

  ‘I will ask you one more time, and if I don’t like what I hear I shall have Sergeant Salter lock you in a cell and give you some time to reflect.’ Riley paused to fix Bernard with a look of steely resolve, making it clear that he was running out of patience. ‘Did your mother know that you and your cohorts were supplying sub-standard accessories to her money-lending customers?’

  ‘She forbade it,’ Bernard said sullenly, ‘and as far as I am aware, she thought we’d complied with her wishes. People usually did. She wasn’t an easy woman to defy. Anyway, she certainly never mentioned the matter to me again.’

  ‘Where did the goods come from?’ Salter asked. ‘We know you supplied them.’

  ‘I work in a warehou
se. All manner of merchandise passes through it. I came to an arrangement with the importer of those particular items.’

  ‘Name?’

  Bernard gave a half-smile and shook his head. ‘Do what you like with me. I am not prepared to say.’

  Frustratingly, Riley knew there was nothing he could do to make him. He could report his activities to his employers but since he probably intended to resign in anticipation of his inheritance, that would achieve little. Evading the duty on the goods in question was illegal, but not uncommon. Many looked upon defrauding the revenue as a badge of honour.

  ‘How well are you acquainted with Doreen Cornish?’ Riley asked in an abrupt change of subject, playing a hunch.

  ‘What?’ Bernard blinked. ‘Who?’

  The hesitation had been fractional, but Riley watched Bernard’s reaction closely and knew he’d got it right. Bernard and Madame’s main assistant knew each other.

  Riley had found his link.

  ‘It was just a thought. Clearly I got it wrong.’ Riley abruptly stood, taking Salter by surprise. ‘Thank you for coming in. You are free to go.’ Riley paused. ‘For now.’

  ‘I should think so as well. Keep me informed of progress regarding my mother’s murder, Chief Inspector,’ Bernard said, striving for dignity. ‘It will be a relief to know who did it and why.’

  ‘What did you let him go for?’ Salter asked, watching a uniformed constable escort him from the premises. ‘We could have got more out of him. Well, I know I could have.’

  ‘Didn’t you see his reaction when I mentioned Miss Cornish?’

  ‘No, I was standing behind him, contemplating how best to loosen his tongue. Shame you didn’t let me.’

  ‘Not sure why I asked him about her. I’ve been racking my brains, trying to link someone who benefits from Mrs Faulkner’s death to someone with access to Madame’s premises. Miss Cornish has keys, don’t forget.’ Riley returned to his office and slumped into the chair behind his desk. ‘She could have persuaded Mrs Faulkner to come to the premises early in the morning, probably with the promise of access to your daughter, and Bernard did the rest. He’s a highly unlikeable, self-entitled individual who’d do just about anything to avoid working for a living indefinitely.’