‘When was the wedding to take place?’ Riley asked.
‘Once Rod had saved enough to buy us a place to live, and when I had finished my apprenticeship. He said when I’d done that I’d be able to open my own milliner’s establishment and he’d persuade all the grand ladies he knew to give me their custom.’ She beamed with pride. ‘He would have done it, too. Rod could get people to do anything he wanted. Anyway, I don’t have long to go now to finish my training. Just a few months. Madame would not approve if I married before then, but Rod said he had expectations that would leave us sitting pretty by the time we said our vows.’
‘Do you know what he meant by that?’ Riley asked.
‘Oh no, sir. He never spoke to me about his business affairs. He knew I wouldn’t understand them anyway.’
‘Where do you live now, Alice?’
‘I have a room that I share with the other apprentice at the back of the shop, sir. Ever so cosy, so it is.’
At Salter’s request, she reeled off the address. Riley knew of the establishment. His mother was one of its most demanding patrons. If Alice’s handiwork could satisfy her exacting requirements then she did indeed possess exceptional talent. That must be the case anyway, otherwise all the charm in the world would not have secured her such a sought-after position. Madame Elaine’s clients paid exorbitant amounts for the very best quality and would be quick to complain if standards slipped.
‘Now think carefully, Alice,’ Riley said, smiling at the nervous, tearful girl in an effort to put her at her ease. ‘Can you think of anyone, anyone at all, who might have done this terrible thing?’
‘Upon my life, sir, that I cannot. The only people he ever argued with were his brothers. But he loved his father, so they remained on what he called nodding terms for the old man’s sake. I only heard about this awful tragedy this morning when I saw the headlines on the newspaper the boy on the corner sells. It gave me a right funny turn, I don’t mind telling you. I thought it couldn’t possibly be true, but Madame said it must be if it was in a respectable newspaper like The Times, and that I ought to come here and tell you what I know.’ She sent Riley a trusting look. ‘So here I am, but I honestly can’t think of anyone who didn’t like Rod. In fact, I used to get jealous when we walked out and I saw the way other ladies looked at him, but he told me not to worry. He told me I was the only girl for him, but now he’s gone and I’m all on my own and I don’t know how I shall manage.’ She subsided into further sobbing.
‘You walked in Hyde Park?’ Salter asked when she had blown her nose, wiped her eyes and regained a modicum of control.
‘Oh no, sir. Rod said he didn’t want to waste our precious time together, which would happen if we went there and people he knew accosted us.’ In other words, Riley thought, he didn’t want to be seen with her. Yet if Alice was to be believed he had not bedded her, so perhaps his intentions were serious. ‘We used to take quiet walks down by the river, watching the mudlarks on sunny days or listening to the organ grinders. Sometimes we went on the river, or else we drove out to Hampstead Heath or took the omnibus to Holland Park. It made no odds to me where we went, just so long as we were together.’ She sniffed. ‘Now we will never go anywhere together again.’
It was clear that she had little else of value to add, although what she had told them explained a great deal. Riley thanked her, expressed his sympathies and told her that they would call to see her at her place of employment if they had more questions for her.
‘Poor chit,’ Salter said, the moment a uniformed constable came to show her out and the door closed behind them. ‘She actually believed that he intended to marry her.’
‘And, hard though it may seem to credit the possibility, I think he did,’ Riley said pensively. ‘Seems he had a conscience after all, otherwise he would have taken what he wanted from her and cast her aside. Yet she claims he didn’t lay a finger on her.’
‘He fell in love, you mean?’ Salter looked dubious. ‘That goes against everything we’ve heard about him thus far. Quite the Casanova, was our Rod.’
‘I suspect that Rod came to look upon society’s rigid formalities with a decidedly jaundiced eye, Jack. He wouldn’t be the first man to baulk at its absurdities. Just think, he’d known Alice for years. She’s that rarest of creatures, an exceptionally pretty girl who’s modest and principled with it. When he realised what his sanctimonious brother expected her to do if she wanted to retain her livelihood it was the final straw. He vowed to protect her by offering her…well, the protection of his name. He behaved with honour, in other words, and had a purpose.’
‘Yeah perhaps, but what about all the other women he slowly bled dry? Ain’t much honour in blackmail.’
‘He took revenge on Alice’s behalf by extracting money from Lady Eldridge. He felt she deserved to pay for the way in which Eldridge had treated Alice’s mother. Can’t say I blame him for that. As for Mrs Cowley…well, Rod had a purpose now. He needed to provide for his intended and set her up in business. He found out that Mrs Kempton was willing enough to pay him for services rendered, so to speak, realised that Mrs Cowley required a similar service and saw an opportunity. I rather suspect that Laura Durand was the focus of the expectations he spoke to Alice about. She reaches her majority in a few months and comes into her inheritance.’
‘He intended to pull the same stunt with her as he did with Mrs Kempton. Take her virtue and then insist that he couldn’t come between her and her father.’ Salter screwed up his features. ‘And just when I was starting to like him, an’ all.’
‘I don’t think he would have had to try too hard, but for the fact that Durand took her away from London.’
‘Would it have worked, sir? A man from his walk of life and a girl from the lower classes?’
‘Frankly, I think there was more to our Rod than met the eye. He probably did fall for the girl. It’s easy to see how that could have happened. He protected her from unwanted attention, found himself comparing her to the calculating and, frankly, frivolous females he met in society’s circles and decided he preferred the idea of a simple life with Alice. He wouldn’t have tried to involve her in his world. In fact, if they did marry he would probably have kept it secret—’
‘Dabbling in society but returning home to his sweet and modest wife.’
Riley sighed. ‘We shall never know for sure, but I like him better for trying to help Alice even if I can’t approve of the manner in which he acquired the blunt in order to make it possible. It’s not hard to imagine how she would have finished up if he hadn’t. Sooner or later a man attracted to her wouldn’t have taken no for an answer, then she’d likely have found herself in the same situation as her mother.’
‘She doesn’t seem very well-versed in the ways of the world, the poor scrap.’
‘What I want to know, Salter, is why Rod extracted money from his brother William when it was Francis who tried to compromise the girl.’ He stood. ‘I think we’ve kept him cooling his heels for quite long enough. Shall we go and ask him?’
‘Lead the way,’ Salter replied, rubbing his hands together. There was nothing he enjoyed more than extracting honest answers from reluctant witnesses, or witnesses who thought they could get away with lying to them by pulling rank.
Woodrow sprang to his feet the moment Salter opened the door to the unappealing room in which he had been left. The walls were painted a dull grey, although perhaps that was just the colour of the stone from which they were built. The one small window was high up in the wall, the glass so grimy that it was impossible to tell if it was day or night outside.
‘I say, what’s the meaning of keeping me here like a common criminal?’ William demanded to know.
Riley indicated to the uniformed constable to leave them. He did so, closing the door softly behind him.
‘I am sorry to have kept you waiting,’ Riley said, not sounding sorry at all, ‘but we have a few additional questions for you.’
‘Which you could not have asked
me at home?’
‘These questions would not be necessary if you had been candid when we spoke to you at Woodrow House.’ Riley sat sideways on his chair and crossed his legs. ‘We find witnesses tend to be more helpful when we speak to them here. I believe the salubrious surroundings tend to concentrate the mind.’
‘Very well.’ William folded his arms across his chest. The gesture made him appear defensive. He must have realised that, as he quickly unfolded them again, dropping his hands into his lap. ‘What is it that you wish to know?’
Riley allowed a significant pause before posing his first question. ‘Why did you not tell us that Rod left Woodrow House because of a falling out with you and your brother?’
William’s gaze darted between the two detectives in a futile attempt to gauge how much they knew. Salter remained standing, leaning one beefy shoulder against the wall, his expression giving nothing away. He raised a finger to his mouth and picked at an imaginary scrap between his teeth with a fingernail, maintaining eye-contact with William as he did so. Riley kept his gaze focused on William too, watching as the other man’s expression flickered between revulsion and fear as he stared at Salter.
‘A falling out?’ William attempted to play the situation down, but Riley saw his nervousness grow as he licked his dry lips. ‘We are brothers, Lord Riley, and I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that brothers are always having differences of opinion.’
‘Yet you do not argue with Francis.’ Riley’s tone remained impassive.
‘Francis and I are like-minded.’
‘And Rod was the black sheep, I suppose,’ Salter snarled. ‘An embarrassment who could scupper your ambitions any time he felt like it. And I bet he made sure you knew it, didn’t he?’
‘Rubbish!’ William snapped, sitting a little straighter and sending Salter a scathing look that Riley knew would fail to intimidate him. He turned to Riley. ‘Kindly ask your sergeant to remember whom he is addressing, Lord Riley, and have him keep a civil tongue in his head.’
‘What was the disagreement about?’ Riley asked, ignoring the request.
‘I cannot recall.’ William waved a hand in dismissal. ‘Something and nothing, I shouldn’t wonder. Family disputes almost always are.’
‘You can’t remember?’ Salter said. He shrugged himself upright from the wall, took two steps towards William and placed both hands flat on the table between them, his nose inches from the aspiring politician’s face. ‘You can’t remember, yet the argument was so bad that Rod left the family home and never returned, breaking your father’s heart in the process. Pull the other one, sunshine.’
‘Get away from me, you insolent dog!’
Salter didn’t budge. ‘I’ll get away from you when you start telling the inspector here the bloody truth,’ he growled. ‘I’m sure you’ve got plenty of places you’d rather be, but let me tell you that you ain’t leaving here until we get some answers.’
‘Your superiors will hear about the way I’ve been treated, Lord Riley, which is no better than a common criminal.’
Salter lifted both hands and slammed them down on the surface of the desk inches from William, who gave a frightened start and let out a small whimper as he shrank back into his own chair.
‘Maybe that’s just what you are!’ he shouted into William’s face.
Riley gave a subdued cough, and Salter took the signal. He raised himself to his full height and backed off two paces, resuming his insolent slouch against the wall.
‘Your father’s health deteriorated sharply as soon as Rod left,’ Riley said, his voice a cultured foil for Salter’s down-to-earth vernacular. ‘That must have annoyed you both. Your father lived vicariously through Rod’s exploits. Maybe he even felt proud of him for being a wastrel. Meanwhile you and Francis represented pillars of comparative respectability who somehow failed to achieve parental approval.’
William turned away from Riley. ‘This has nothing to do with Father.’
‘I don’t think Francis’s life was as respectable as all that, was it, sir?’ Salter said, his tone speculative. ‘Given what we’ve been told.’
‘Ah yes, Sergeant. Thank you for the reminder.’
William’s eyes had taken on a haunted look, one that Riley had seen many times before in this room. His attempt to appear aloof and unconcerned was failing miserably. Riley let the silence draw out, tapping his fingers on the arm of his chair in a way that was calculated to irritate. Eventually the silence became too much for William.
‘What do you think you know?’ he asked.
‘We know that you were paying your brother thirty guineas a quarter,’ Riley replied after another significant pause. ‘Now why on earth would you do that, we wondered, did we not, Sergeant?’
‘We did indeed, sir,’ Salter replied, never taking his eyes from William.
William looked from Riley to Salter and back again. ‘How the devil could you possibly know a thing like that?’ he demanded.
‘We didn’t,’ Riley replied, ‘not for sure, but you just confirmed it.’
William let out a long breath. ‘Well, since you insist upon knowing, I paid Rod to stay away. He upset Father with his—’
Salter stepped forward again, this time bringing his clenched fists down onto the table very slowly. William did not flinch. He stared at Salter’s fists and his tongue flickered across his lips once more. ‘Now, Mr Woodrow,’ Salter said in what was almost a whisper, ‘I’ve caught you lying before and I didn’t like it much, if you remember. We already know that your father only got upset when Rod moved out, so tell the inspector the truth, before I get really annoyed, there’s a good fellow.’
‘All right.’ William threw up his hands. ‘I wanted him to stay away, so I made sure he had the funds to support himself. Having a brother with his kind of morals didn’t do my prospects of being elected to Parliament much good.’ Salter stood up as slowly as he had bent down a few seconds before. William let out an elongated sigh.
‘Yet Rod continued to maintain a high profile in society,’ Riley said. ‘The Tory grandees couldn’t help but notice him. In fact, he was intimately acquainted with some of their wives.’
‘No!’ William’s face paled. ‘Even he would not go that far.’
‘Where did you get the blunt to pay him?’ Riley asked.
‘What do you mean?’
Riley shrugged. ‘Exactly what I say, Mr Woodrow. As far as I am aware you have no occupation and devote all your time to your political ambitions.’
‘I have private means. We all received a legacy from my mother’s estate when she died. Rod ran through his, of course, but I was more prudent.’
‘Maybe so, but it wouldn’t have lasted indefinitely if you’d been obliged to continue paying Rod. A perpetual drain on your resources. You must have resented paying your brother to keep his distance, especially since he could have decided to demand more at any time.’
‘Perhaps Mr Woodrow knew about Rod’s dalliances with all them political females, sir, and paid him to keep away from ’em.’
‘I did not!’ William looked affronted. He took a deep breath, striving to rein in his temper.
‘You paid him to steer clear of anyone who could be of use to you,’ Riley remarked. ‘And yet he made a point of turning up at political soirees that he knew you’d be attending—like he did on the night he died. You must have thought he was doing it deliberately, just to annoy you. I can easily imagine you losing patience with him. Not only was he slowly bleeding you dry but he also failed to keep his side of the bargain. But of course all those problems are behind you now.’
‘I cannot pretend to be sorry about that, but I most certainly did not kill my brother, if that is what you suppose, Lord Riley.’ William appeared to have regained a little composure and attempted to adopt a superior air. ‘Really, I thought you were a great deal more intelligent than that.’
‘We know you left the Covingtons at midnight. What we don’t know is where you went after that,’ Salter s
aid in a surly tone.
‘What? You think that I…’ He half rose from his chair, as though to confront Salter, who took a step forward and grinned in anticipation. William sank back into his chair. ‘You actually think I murdered my own brother? But that’s insupportable. I did not like him, and didn’t approve of his lifestyle, but dislike and disapproval are a long way from murder.’
‘We might be less inclined to look upon you as a suspect if you were to tell us the whole truth,’ Riley said, a hard edge to his voice.
‘I already have—’
‘I would advise against trying my patience, Mr Woodrow. We know you did not pay your brother out of the goodness of your heart.’ Riley fixed William with a look of steely resolve. ‘Bear in mind that I have the power to lock you in a cell. It is not an experience that I would recommend, especially as my sergeant appears very keen to escort you to one. Have no doubt that I will permit him to do so if you continue to mislead me. It would give you an opportunity to reflect.’
‘Of course,’ Salter added, sniffing, ‘them newspaper hacks is always hanging around, looking for a story. Discovering that you were one of our guests would scupper your political ambitions far more effectively than your brother’s activities ever could. I wonder who would tell them…in exchange for a guinea or two, of course.’ Salter let the silence drag out.
William sent Riley a look of unmitigated hatred but, like the politician he aspired to be, self-preservation kicked in. He sighed his capitulation.
‘Very well,’ he said. ‘I suspect that you know anyway.’
‘I would prefer to hear it from you,’ Riley said.
‘Rod was a hypocrite, Lord Riley. He worked his way methodically through half the women in London, but he kicked up one hell of a ruckus when Francis propositioned our late housekeeper’s daughter.’ He waved a hand. ‘Oh, I don’t condone what Francis did. It was wrong—and I might add, entirely out of character. The poor girl was in no position to refuse him. But Rod and she had always been friendly and when word reached him…well, I thought he would kill Francis. I have never seen him half so angry and don’t mind admitting that he frightened me. He seemed capable of just about anything at that moment, and I feared for Francis’s safety.
Death of a Scoundrel Page 11