He told Stout about his interview with Durand as he bathed and changed.
‘You don’t believe him, my lord?’
‘You know me, Stout. I don’t take what anyone tells me at face value. He was a little too forthcoming for my comfort. I find it annoying that I can’t instinctively decide whether he was telling the complete truth or embellishing a lie. He was certainly angry enough with Woodrow to lose his temper and lash out, and intelligent enough to cover his tracks once he realised what he had done.’
‘You would like me to try and discover from his servants if he left the house, or if anyone else loyal to him left it on his behalf that night?’
‘It would have had to be him, Stout. One thing I’m certain of is that he wouldn’t ask any of his people, no matter how loyal, to commit murder on his behalf. Besides, Woodrow wouldn’t have let a stranger into his house, but he would have admitted the father of the girl he hoped to marry.’
‘Leave it with me, my lord.’
‘Thank you, Stout.’ Riley examined his reflection and was satisfied with his appearance. ‘Right, bring the carriage round and we will collect Mrs Cosgrove.’
‘You look tired, Riley,’ Amelia said sympathetically as he greeted her in her drawing room. ‘This case is a severe test for you. Aristocrats are involved, so you have to tread more carefully than normal.’
Riley kissed her and gently touched her face. ‘No matter how tired or frustrated I become, seeing you is the perfect antidote.’
‘Then I am glad to be of some use,’ she replied, thanking Riley when he helped her into her fur-lined evening cape. ‘And I shall not ask you what progress you made today, since I dare say Jake will plague you for the particulars. I would much prefer to enjoy your company and forget all about murder and mayhem.’
Riley squeezed her hand. ‘On that point we are in complete agreement.’
They ventured outside to where Stout was holding the carriage door open for Amelia. She thanked him and paused to enquire after his health before accepting Riley’s hand into the conveyance. She left the usually dour Stout with a smile on his lips; a feat that few others ever managed to accomplish.
The drive to Jake’s mansion in Grosvenor Square was a short one and upon their arrival Riley and Amelia were greeted with warmth and affection by their friends.
‘You find us all here tonight,’ Olivia said, linking her arm through Riley’s as they made their way into the drawing room. ‘Tom, of course,’ she said, referring to her son from her first marriage, now an aspiring barrister, ‘and Sebastian too. He is down from Oxford for Christmas. And Carolyn is very excited at the prospect of being Amelia’s bridesmaid. It is such a shame that Sophia must remain in Chichester for now. She and Carolyn would have so much fun together, anticipating the big day.’
‘I hope she will return to town with my mother after the Christmas celebrations.’
There were no other guests that evening and naturally, Riley was bombarded with questions about Woodrow.
‘It is such a pity,’ Carolyn said, pouting. ‘I was introduced to him once and he was the best possible fun.’ Jake scowled at his daughter, as did her brothers, but she didn’t appear to notice. Carolyn was only just sixteen and not yet formally out, so Jake was right to be wary about her natural attraction to such a wastrel. ‘He possessed the ability to charm ladies of all ages, from what I observed. None of us were oblivious to his easy manners or immune to his sense of fun. I don’t think he’d ever entertained a serious thought in his entire life. Only imagine that.’
‘That is more or less what I have been told by everyone I’ve spoken to,’ Riley told her.
‘Any idea who did it?’ Sebastian asked.
‘Too many suspects to narrow it down. As Carolyn points out, all the ladies liked him, so it follows that all their husbands, fathers and brothers likely did not.’
‘Poor Riley.’ Olivia smiled at him. ‘You have come here this evening to get away from talk of murder and violent crime, not submit yourself to an inquisition.’
Riley returned her smile and confirmed that was the case, but he wasn’t fooled. Olivia was the worst offender as a general rule when it came to demanding the particulars of his investigations. She only held back because Carolyn was present, and the conversation soon turned to wedding preparations.
‘Riley’s mother has decided that we must have a larger celebration than originally intended,’ Amelia told them.
‘Has she indeed?’ Olivia smiled. ‘I am glad that you are now on friendly terms with her.’
‘The numbers are up to two hundred,’ Amelia said.
Riley raised a brow. He had not been aware of that, but he didn’t really care, just so long as Amelia was there.
The meal passed in a flurry of light conversation. Sebastian gave what Riley suspected were edited accounts of his exploits at Oxford, reminding both Riley and Jake of their own days at that venerable place of learning.
Once the ladies withdrew the conversation reverted to Woodrow. Riley told Jake and his sons everything he had learned or suspected.
‘Sounds like I chose the wrong line of work,’ Tom said when he heard how much money Woodrow had accrued, making them all smile.
‘My sergeant would agree with you.’
‘How do you intend to narrow down the field?’ Jake asked, passing the decanter to Sebastian.
‘I shall investigate the activities of the most likely suspects first. Lord Durand is a prime contender.’ Riley rubbed his chin. ‘Not sure what to make of him. He was a little too forthcoming for my comfort.’
‘You have become so accustomed to being lied to or with witnesses being economical with the facts that you found his candour suspicious, I would imagine,’ Tom said.
‘Quite. He was fiercely determined to protect his daughter from a fortune-hunter and sufficiently arrogant to assume he’d get away with murder. Salter tells me that any father would react in the same way, without necessarily resorting to actual murder.’
Jake nodded. ‘Very likely. Unfortunately for Durand, the investigation falls under your auspices.’
‘Exactly. He spoke openly enough to me because of who I am but I suspect that he would have intimidated an officer who doesn’t share our background into believing every word. I anticipated that reaction, which is why I went to see him alone.’
‘What about Mrs Kempton?’ Jake asked. ‘I remember it causing quite a stir when she married Kempton, and I find it highly suspicious that she volunteered such lurid particulars of her relationship with Woodrow. Why would she do that if she didn’t want to point you in the direction of her husband? Naturally, she has achieved that ambition.’
‘Those two are high on my list of priorities, as is William Woodrow.’
‘A dull stick if ever there was one,’ Tom said. ‘Sensible, old before his time, and everything that his fun-loving brother was not.’
‘And one of his brother’s victims, I suspect.’ Riley’s assertion produced a cry of surprise. He reached into his pocket and produced the notebook showing the initials of Woodrow’s targets. ‘See for yourself.’
Jake and his sons crowded around the book as Jake flipped through the pages.
‘There’s clearly no love lost in that family,’ Jake said. ‘I seem to recall hearing a whisper, years back now, about an event that set them at loggerheads, but no one ever got to the bottom of it, and no one even knew if there was any substance to the rumour.’
‘I will have one of my detectives check William’s whereabouts on the night in question. He called briefly at Lady Aston’s and was probably disconcerted to find Rod there, so he didn’t linger. He went on to the Covingtons, I believe he said. I will ascertain what time he left and by what means. A needle in a haystack, of course. If he says he returned home I will have no way of disproving it, so I shall have to break him down by other means.’
‘Who are the rest of these people?’ Tom gestured at the notebook.
Riley told him about Lady Eldridge and Mr
s Cowley.
‘A bit old for Woodrow, don’t you think?’ Sebastian asked.
‘You heard your sister earlier. His charm transcended the generations.’
‘And the older ones were likely to be more grateful and discreet,’ Tom added to muted laughter.
‘I’m sure you would know, big brother,’ Sebastian replied.
Jake cast his step-son a speculative look but didn’t probe.
No one had any suggestions to make regarding the identity of the two people whose names had been crossed through. With nothing more to discuss, they rose as one to rejoin the ladies.
Chapter Seven
Riley arrived at Scotland Yard early the following morning, ahead of his colleagues. He took advantage of the solitude to mull over all he had learned thus far about the habits of Rod Woodrow. He was unable to decide which of his suspects ought to take precedence, so he settled upon a three-pronged approach.
‘Morning, sir.’ Salter put his head round Riley’s door. ‘You been here all night? Should have thought your priorities would have changed by now.’
‘Morning, Jack. Want to get this case solved before the Christmas festivities are upon us.’ Riley tapped his pen absently on top of the papers he had been reading. ‘Send Carter and Soames to have a word with Covington’s coachman. I want to know what time William Woodrow arrived at their soiree on the night of his brother’s murder, what time he left, how and with whom. Once they’ve obtained that information they need to bring William in to answer a few questions. He won’t be happy about it and will throw his weight around. Make sure they insist.’
‘Right-ho. What are we going to do in the meantime?’
‘It’s beyond time that we visited Lady Eldridge and Mrs Cowley and persuaded them to admit that they too were being blackmailed by Rod Woodrow. They both live in the vicinity of the Brompton Road, which will make our life a fraction easier.’
‘What if they have husbands at home who demand to know our business?’
‘Lady Eldridge is a widow, although she does have a son who resides with her. He works in government and I’ve heard it said that his star is in the ascendency within the civil service, so he should be at work. Mrs Cowley’s husband is an invalid who seldom leaves his rooms, and they have no children.’
‘Both sound as though they would be easy prey for a man of Woodrow’s ilk,’ Salter said, sniffing. ‘Wealthy women with time on their hands, old enough to appreciate the attentions of a younger man.’
Riley conceded the point with a nod. ‘Durand is my other concern. Stout is doing a little probing in that regard, but unless one of his servants admits that his master went out late that night then…’ Riley spread his hands and gave a frustrated sigh.
‘It would be too dangerous for him to have walked to Half Moon Street alone at that time of night,’ Salter pointed out. ‘But if he was intent upon murder he wouldn’t have taken his carriage ’cause it would put his coachman in a position of being a witness to his movements. Far too dangerous for such a cautious man. Besides, someone would have remarked upon it waiting outside Woodrow’s house if he had, so if he was there he must have taken a Hansom.’
‘Good point, Jack. Have Carter and Soames talk to the jarveys who work the night shift. They wait for fares at Waterloo, which is the closest point to Durand’s home.’ Riley rubbed his hands together, glad that at least Salter was thinking with clarity. ‘That leaves us with Kempton. He runs his father-in-law’s business in gold bullion—now his own business—from premises in Hatton Garden.’
‘Do you intend to quiz him?’
‘Not sure yet.’ Riley leaned back in his chair. ‘There seems little point when I have nothing to throw at him. If he really doesn’t know about his wife’s generosity towards Woodrow, and if she didn’t have anything to do with his death, it’ll only make problems for her. But even so, we shall have to find out what he was up to at the time of the murder. Did you know that the price of gold bullion recently fell through the floor?’
‘Can’t say I did.’ He sent Riley a lurid grin. ‘Ain’t checked my portfolio recently, sir.’
Riley snorted. ‘The Married Woman’s Property Act made the markets jittery. I imagine they assume such creatures would be incapable of making wise investments if they insist upon managing their own affairs, and therefore pose a threat to the entire country’s economy. Anyway, I’d very much like to know how the fall affected Kempton’s business.’
‘I’m not with you, sir.’ Salter frowned. ‘What bearing would his business affairs have on Woodrow’s murder?’
‘If he got his feet wet he might have been required to appeal to his wife to bail him out and save her father’s lifetime’s work from going under. That would not have made her happy. She married him because she had no choice, but if he turns out to be an unreliable provider she might have been looking for a way out.’
‘Ah, so she wanted rid of him. Told him she would help him if he helped her. Invented some story about Woodrow threatening to tell the truth about the baby’s parentage, which would make Kempton look like a fool and most likely turn him murderous with rage. Once he’d done away with Woodrow, all she’d have had to do was point us in his direction, which is what she did.’ Salter scratched his head. ‘But why would she go to such extremes? She was in love with Woodrow.’
‘We only have her word for that. Perhaps seeing him actively pursuing Laura Durand inflamed her with jealousy. If she couldn’t have him, no one else would.’
‘All well and good in theory, sir, but how the devil are we supposed to prove something like that?’
‘First things first, Jack. I have a friend who dabbles in the bullion markets. I’ll run him to earth later and see if he’s heard any rumours about Kempton’s fortunes. That will give us something to work with.’
They talked in circles for a while, exchanging ideas and inventing increasingly unlikely scenarios, which helped to clarify Riley’s thinking. When they had exhausted all possible options, Salter went off to put the arrangements Riley had asked of him in hand before the two of them set off for Brompton Road. The biting cold and the intermittent sleet kept all but the hardy and most desperate indoors. Those who were out and about scurried to complete their business as quickly as possible. There were few of the usual costermongers, ballad singers, flower sellers or rag-and-bone men on the street. Riley spared a moment’s sympathy for the poor souls who had no choice but to brave the elements in clothing ill-equipped to stave off the cold. It was beyond time, in his opinion, that politicians stopped arguing amongst themselves and did something worthwhile to help the most desperate members of society.
Lady Eldridge’s town house wore an air of faded grandeur and was in urgent need of a little loving care. They were admitted to an equally shabby interior by a uniformed maid and asked to wait. A short time later then were shown into a comfortable morning room, where Lady Eldridge, a lady in her early fifties, rose from a chair in front of a roaring fire and greeted them graciously.
‘Lord Riley, what an unexpected pleasure.’
‘Lady Eldridge.’ Riley bowed over her hand and then introduced Salter.
‘Sergeant,’ she said politely, a small frown creasing her brow. ‘Please have a seat, gentlemen. Should I be concerned about a visit from two of Scotland Yard’s detectives?’
‘We have no immediate plans for your arrest,’ Riley replied, smiling, ‘but are in need of your assistance.’
‘Refreshments?’ The both declined. Lady Eldridge waved the hovering maid away. ‘Then what can I do for you?’
‘We are investigating the death—the violent murder—of Roderick Woodrow.’
‘Ah!’ She sighed. ‘Such a terrible tragedy. Do you have any idea who did it?’
‘We have several suspects.’ Riley adjusted his position in the chair he had foolishly chosen. Its uneven stuffing made it impossible for him to sit straight. If he remained in it for too long he would be in danger of developing a permanent tilt to the left. ‘Can you tell
me why you gave him a reference when he took his lodgings in Half Moon Street?’
‘Because he asked me to,’ she replied without hesitation, ‘and I was happy to oblige.’
‘How well did you know him?’
She lifted one shoulder. ‘How well does anyone know one’s social peers?’
‘Which is really no answer at all,’ Riley said, his tone hardening. ‘We know you paid him thirty guineas each quarter. I cannot help wondering why you would do such a thing when, if you will excuse my bluntness, I suspect you cannot afford it.’ His glance encompassed the dated décor to emphasise his point.
‘Oh bother, I had hoped you would not find out about that. So embarrassing.’ She briefly looked away from Riley. Her throat worked as she laced her fingers together, only to pull them apart again before repeating the process. ‘He knew about some dealings that my late husband had with his own father that would have seriously jeopardise my son’s career if they became public knowledge.’
‘What dealings?’
‘I would prefer not to say.’
‘And I’m afraid I must insist that you do.’ Riley softened his tone. ‘I don’t for one moment suspect you of any involvement in Woodrow’s demise, but some suspicion lingers over members of his own family.’ Riley spread his hands. ‘I am sure you understand that I cannot make an arrest without proof, and if I can’t find that proof his murderer will escape the punishment he deserves.’
‘Well, since you put it like that.’ She folded her hands yet again, looking exceedingly distressed. ‘My husband enjoyed his peccadillos, Lord Riley, all of which I pretended not to know about, until his wandering eye fell upon our young housekeeper. I was not best pleased when he dallied beneath this roof and even more mortified when a child resulted. A daughter.’
Death of a Scoundrel (Riley Rochester Investigates Book 4) Page 9