by Issy Brooke
Prendergast continued to write, and kept his head bowed, focusing on the paper in front of him. The tone of his voice was mild as he said, “There is clearly another reason why you felt compelled to bring Halifax into the company and you will have to tell us sooner or later.”
“I – sir, I protest!”
“Do you? About what do you protest?” Prendergast again spoke in a manner so maddeningly calm that it seemed to propel Montgomery into fury.
“I protest against your insinuations!”
“What am I insinuating? Please do spell it out for me.”
“Well, I ... I don’t know.”
Montgomery shifted around on his chair. After a long silence he admitted defeat. “Fine. Very well. There is another thing. When I first met him, I was not as in control of my finances nor my good sense and reason as I currently am. I’d suffered some misfortunes in business and my private life. I was, in a word, gentlemen, vulnerable. He convinced me of his worth and business acumen when I was at my lowest ebb, when I was willing to be convinced about anything by anyone.” He tipped his head up and fixed them both with a stare. “There you have it.”
“It is to your credit that you can speak openly of the weaknesses that affect all of us at one time or another, sir,” Prendergast said. “Rest assured you will have no judgment from me on that score. Tell me the rest, now, as you have begun. We do require details.”
“What more is there to tell? He had a business idea a few years ago and I went along with it, thinking that it might be what I needed to set my mind straight again. It gave me a purpose. So I offered him my expertise in this business matter and although that particular business failed, I thought that he might be a good fit when Froude told me about this one. So yes, I introduced him to Froude. Though that was a mistake in hindsight.”
Theodore pinched the bridge of his nose. This business, that business – no wonder men of taste avoiding dealings in trade. It was all getting rather confusing. And he felt he was missing something important.
Prendergast did not seem to be confused. He said, “What was the nature of this initial business? The first one between you and Halifax.”
“Ah – fossils. It was fossils, too, but not in the same sort of way that our current venture is placed.”
“Fossils?”
“Yes.” Montgomery had a sheen on his face and he pulled at his collar, then seemed to notice his own nervous movements, and hastily put his hands flat on his thighs. “But let me be honest with you. Neither me, nor Halifax, have the business expertise that Froude has. We both made mistakes and I cannot entirely blame Halifax. In short, therefore, our own initial venture failed whereas Froude’s is sure to succeed.”
“Even after all this?”
“I see no reason why he might not weather this storm.”
“With the loss of one of the partners?”
“Loss?” Montgomery almost laughed. “The death of Bablock Halifax is no great loss at all. It might even be to our advantage.”
AND FINALLY THEY SPOKE to Alfred Pegsworth.
He sat down and fidgeted with nervousness. Theodore could not suppress his shudder of embarrassment that the shabby man in front of them was actually related to his own family. It might only be by marriage, and he had nothing against Pegsworth personally, but he felt distinctly uncomfortable around him.
And clearly the feeling was mutual.
Pegsworth stumbled through his explanation of how he came to be part of the business. “I met Halifax, you see, a while ago and it was all down to him,” he said, a note of whining already creeping into his voice. “I didn’t know the other two. I wasn’t looking for anything like that at all. The business, I mean. Not really. I needed a job, it was true, but... I’m not really involved! I’m not!”
“What happened to your position as a bank clerk?” Theodore said. He had not yet spoken; up until now he had let Prendergast direct the questioning. The inspector tapped his pen on the paper but did not interrupt.
Pegsworth’s answer was a little baffling. “What bank?”
“You work in a bank.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Before all of this, didn’t you work in Carnell and Carnell’s?”
“Didn’t I – oh, yes, I remember now.”
“You remember?”
“I wasn’t there for very long. It didn’t suit me. I moved on to other things. That was years ago.”
“I see.” Theodore sat back grumbling. Adelia had not mentioned this to him. Or had she? He might not have been listening. He decided the fault was probably his own.
The inspector took over once more. “How did you meet Mr Halifax?”
“At a music hall. Can’t remember the name.”
“That is decidedly more lowbrow than the places Mr Montgomery and Mr Froude have spoken of.”
“Mr Halifax was not as highbrow as he’d like you to think,” Pegsworth said. “I don’t even think that was really his name.”
Prendergast’s pen stopped abruptly. “Excuse me?”
“Bablock Halifax? That’s no kind of name for a man,” Pegsworth said.
“Do you have any evidence that it was not his real name?”
“Well, no, not really except I did hear a man call him Bob once.”
Prendergast uttered a deep sigh and wrote that down. “Who do you think killed Mr Halifax?” he asked with a note of weariness.
“Now you’re asking a difficult question,” Pegsworth said, laughing hollowly. “Everybody hated him in one way or another. I wouldn’t be surprised if the pair of them – Froude and Montgomery – were working together on it. They hated him and they hated me, too. Here, that’s another thing.” Pegsworth leaned forward and jabbed his grubby finger on the table. “Whoever did for Halifax is going to be gunning for me next, aren’t they? I’m in danger, me. What are you going to do about it? How are you going to keep me safe? Eh? I’ll be next, you mark my words. The pair of them will take a pop at me, just watch. Froude didn’t want me and he was rude to me at first. Downright nasty, in fact. He’s got a bit more polite lately but maybe it’s just a front. I’m scared.”
He didn’t sound scared. He sounded angry.
Prendergast capped his pen. “No one is allowed to enter or leave the estate or the house, Mr Pegsworth, and police will be stationed here at all times. You may rest assured that your safety is of the utmost importance. Thank you for your time. Good day.”
“Yes, but...”
Prendergast stood up and Theodore followed suit. Pegsworth didn’t move but he began to point at Theodore. “Tell him, my lord, tell him I’m going to be next! I don’t trust them.”
Prendergast left the room without saying another word, and Theodore started to follow. He paused at the door.
“I am sure you will be fine,” he managed to say, before fleeing.
That was a lie.
Alfred Pegsworth definitely had a point.
Six
Adelia heard Smith’s voice outside her room. “My lady is indisposed,” the maid said stiffly and firmly to someone who clearly wanted to bother her.
Adelia turned over. She was lying on her bed, nestling her head and shoulders among a heap of cushions and pillows, unconcerned by the crumpled state of her day-dress. She faced the wall, staring blankly at nothing. Smith would sort it out and send them away.
But the other voice was loud. “Smith, have you quite lost your mind? I am her husband. I have a right to see my wife.”
She sighed. She knew how this would end but she was suffocated by a curious inability to actually move or act. It was as if she was held down by great hands, compelled to hear the inevitable drama played out just as she predicted it would go.
Smith would do her utmost to follow Adelia’s commands to the letter.
“My lady said that absolutely no one was to disturb her.”
Theodore would argue back.
“I am hardly included in that. What’s wrong with her?”
Smith would be
nervous but she knew where her first loyalties lay.
“She has a headache brought on by the exertions and alarms of the day.”
Theodore would be practical.
“Then I will administer some laudanum. She never refuses that.”
It was going to go on for ever, Adelia thought listlessly, with both of them determined to win – not for their own sakes, but to protect me.
That final thought broke through her lethargy and made her sit up slowly. She saw the selfishness of her lack of action, and wearily called out, “Smith, let him in.” Her voice was sore.
Theodore inched his way in, and as soon as he saw her rumpled condition, rushed to the bed. “Lie down!” he commanded.
“No, it’s fine.”
“Your head – I’ll draw the curtains.”
“No. It’s not one of my headaches.” The monthly migraines had eased since she had entered this particular stage of her life. “I just don’t know what to do.”
“We’re going to solve this crime!” he burbled with unseemly excitement. “But something is wrong with you, my dear heart.” He frowned. “Please speak to me. Has an attempt been made upon your life?”
“Heavens – no! But is that a possibility? Who has done this, Theodore? What’s happening? Has there been an arrest? What’s going on?” She felt her voice rising and she fought back the urge to wail and cry.
He grabbed her hands. “Well, Inspector Prendergast and I have interviewed the main suspects. His men are all over the house, hunting for the murder weapon, making photographs of the room, and speaking to every single servant. No one will leave until this affair is over, and that cannot be long. Adelia, Adelia, why are you hiding here in your room? I thought that you would be downstairs, overseeing everything.”
She heard the fear in his voice. If she crumbled, everything was lost. Her head swam with the responsibility of it all, but she tried to explain herself. “This is my house, Theodore. My house! My house.”
He blinked at her. “Our house. Yes.”
His hands encompassed hers but she twisted her wrists to bring her own fingers around his and began to squeeze, tightly. “How dare they!” she hissed, both fear and anger bubbling inside her belly. “Here? Here? I cannot believe it – cannot understand it – this is my house, Theodore, and they have broken it open, and I cannot walk along my own corridor, sit in my own room, without thinking – without imagining – what has happened, who has done this, what might happen again! All is ruined, don’t you see? I have been violated.”
He winced and she realised she was hurting his hands. She tried to relax.
He stayed silent, trying to think his way through what she was trying to tell him. She didn’t think he’d properly understand, but at least he made the effort and listened to her. That was something.
Adelia said, “I want to go back in time, Theodore.”
“To before this all happened? Of course you do. I understand.”
“No!” she said fiercely. “Do you remember when we were staying with Dido and that terrible thing happened there? Do you remember the events at Mary’s, and that murder which involved Felicia? How terrible they must have felt! Now I understand it! I can feel the hysteria, the betrayal, the uncertainty – like I have never understood it before. Oh, I must have been an insufferable fool. I don’t know how they put up with me. I admonished Felicia for her reaction! I was a stone-hearted woman. I did not feel then as I feel now. But now I understand! I am going to write to each of them and apologise for my lack of true sensitivity.”
He pursed his lips. “Very well. Perhaps unburdening yourself to them will help you. Might I also suggest you ask each of them for advice, too?”
“Ask my daughters for advice? It’s a step too far. They will think me a very weak mother if I do that, and lose all respect for me.”
“Poppycock. My dear wife, I love you like I love my own life but that is nonsense and you know it. They will admire you all the more for recognising your failings and striving to overcome them. Now listen to me. I’ll call Smith in and she will make you presentable. You will go to your day room and write your letters. Then come and find me and we will begin to talk about the suspects, you and I, working as a detecting team on the case once more. I need to ask you about your brother. Does that plan sound good to you?”
She wanted to kiss him and simultaneously push him away. But he was right. She’d do as he suggested and write the letters. She might even send them, though she already knew that the writing of them might well be enough.
She nodded. He slid off the bed and called Smith in.
She noticed then how weary and strained Smith looked, and bit her lip as a fresh wave of guilt stole over her.
“Smith – no, actually, I will dress myself. Smith, go and take the rest of the day off. You have had a terrible morning.”
“With all due respect, my lady, might I attend to your hair first?”
As she sat herself in front of the vanity table, and watched Smith working in the mirror, she realised the kindest thing she could do for Smith at the moment was fill her day with activity, and so when she was finally presentable, she sent Smith to sit in the housekeeper’s room with the door propped open, darning the biggest pile of socks she could find.
ADELIA ROSE TO THE challenge. What had life taught her, after all, if not to put a brave face on things? All her education had been one of learning how to practise socially acceptable deception – how to appear to be accomplished, pleasant, and ultimately good marriage material. How to be witty and agreeable even if your belly hurt and your feet ached. How to be a wonderful hostess even if your husband was beating you and your cook had just left, taking a pregnant belly and a footman with her. How to be the very paragon of womanhood as your internal life collapsed. It had been a narrow education but it was certainly thorough. Adelia dressed in dark, sombre shades, and tucked her hair under a slightly old-fashioned bonnet. She sailed through the ground floor rooms, checked that everyone had everything they needed – except their liberty, of course – and went to dash off a few quick notes to her daughters.
She filed them in her writing case. Perhaps she would send them. Perhaps not. As she tucked them into a wooden slot her fingers brushed the spiteful messages from the local “well-wisher.” She shook her head. She knew Mrs Ingram was behind those letters. She certainly had some new fodder for her gossiping ways, now. Adelia had to cling to the hope that people who knew Adelia and her family well would not be influenced by Mrs Ingram and whatever the rumour-mongers made of the latest developments at Thringley House.
When she went to find Theodore in his study, she had achieved a certain equilibrium again, and he must have seen it on her face. He smiled as she approached.
“I have made a list,” he said as she sat down.
She was grateful for his infuriating rationality. Logic would save them. Who needed emotions when one had lists? She nodded, and found that her voice did not shake at all as she asked, “Who is the most likely suspect, and why?”
Theodore blew out his cheeks. “I cannot choose between them, and neither can Prendergast. I say, he’s turned out to be a top man, you know. Very capable. I’m impressed. He’ll be a splendid show at the dinner; I am actually looking forward to it.”
“If Mrs Ingram doesn’t scupper proceedings,” Adelia muttered.
“She can do nothing. Don’t worry about it. Once we’ve solved this case, Prendergast will be the toast of the town and it will thoroughly make his name for good. Everyone knows Inspector Ingram is a has-been.”
She nodded in agreement but she couldn’t help feeling uneasy. Inspector Ingram’s cousin was a baronet after all. Maybe it counted for something.
Theodore went on. “Anyway, yes, so everyone hated Halifax. Froude openly admitted it. Montgomery was not far off in saying the same, and he was evasive about how they actually met. As for your brother ... I’m sorry, dear heart, but I think he’s been lying to us.”
“About what?” she sai
d, her general uneasiness intensifying.
“He lost his job at the bank years ago! Can you believe that? He never told us! Well, I didn’t know. Did you?”
She framed an expression of surprise and bent her head to both hide her face and look more closely at the list that Theodore had made. There were the three names.
“That is a shock. So, are there any clues in the room itself?” She thought her change of subject was obvious and clumsy but it didn’t seem to make a mark on Theodore.
He briefly described the situation to her, as delicately as he could. She kept shaking her head.
“You know, this Halifax was a smooth sort of man, and I can see why he might have irritated the others, but I can’t imagine he was annoying enough for anyone to want to kill him. There has to be more to it,” she said. “If he was this annoying – as he undoubtedly was – then all they had to do was to expel him from the business. He didn’t bring any money into it so he wasn’t a vital investor, was he?”
“That’s true.”
“This is infuriating but I never did found out if he was even married,” she added.
“Your brother suggested that his real name might not even be Bablock Halifax. He said someone once called him Bob.”
“That could be a contraction of Bablock? It is a mouthful, after all.”
“Perhaps. We need to look into his background. And we need to be sure of his links to all three men.” He sighed, tapping the paper. “Froude is a cool sort of man. I can hardly see him attacking someone from behind in a frenzy. Montgomery is clever and he admitted they were linked, he and Halifax. But men of science like him don’t go in for physical violence, either.”