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Death of a Prosecutor

Page 11

by Wendy Soliman


  Riley was deeply disturbed by what he had learned, but he was unsure what, if anything, he should do about it. His title sometimes felt like a disadvantage. It had taken him a long time to be accepted on equal terms and without suspicion by his peers, and interfering in another inspector’s case would nullify all those efforts.

  Sighing, he spent another hour tidying up loose ends on other cases and allowed what he had learned that day about Sir Robert’s affairs to percolate through his brain. When no blindingly obvious explanations for his death resulted, Riley decided to call it a day. He updated Danforth on his progress and then took himself off home. He took solace from the fact that he was engaged to dine with Jake that evening and was likely to learn more there than he had thus far managed elsewhere.

  Chapter Seven

  Before changing into evening clothes, Riley took a moment to pen a reply to Amelia’s note—a reply that he had written in his head numerous times during the course of the day, distracting him from his duties as he struggled to get its content exactly right. Resigned to the fact that he never would, he simply allowed his thoughts to flow from the nib of his pen. He thanked Amelia for thinking of him the moment she heard the news, confirmed that he was indeed charged with investigating Sir Robert’s death but refrained from mentioning its complexities. He told her of Jasper’s increasing struggle to cling to life, hoping she would not interpret that admission as added pressure to accept his proposal. He wouldn’t have mentioned it at all but for the fact that she would hear of it the moment she returned to town and would think it odd that she had not learned of it directly from him.

  ‘I shall myself be required in Chichester when the time comes but, selfishly, I hope that will not be until after your return. I wish you aunt a speedy recovery and try not to resent the fact that her illness deprives me of your company.

  He read his missive through. He had deliberately kept it light and held back the outflow of feelings he had been tempted to express. He signed it with a flourish, blotted the page and addressed the envelope, which he then left on the hall table. Stout would ensure that it caught the morning post.

  Bathed and dressed in pristine evening attire, Riley had Stout drive him the short distance to Grosvenor Square since it was still raining, unable to help wondering if the next time he visited his friends he would do so with Amelia on his arm, their engagement formal. A man could hope.

  He was greeted with warm affection by Jake and his beautiful countess, Olivia.

  ‘I was so very sorry to hear about Jasper,’ Olivia said as she linked her arm through his and led him into the drawing room. ‘Sophia sent a note to Carolyn cancelling a planned shopping expedition because she was obliged to return to Cambridge,’ she added in response to Riley’s raised eyebrow look. ‘The news will be all over London by now and you will be besieged.’

  ‘I am sorry if your daughter was disappointed.’

  ‘She understands and feels very sorry for Sophia. Is there any news from Chichester? Not that you would be here if there was, I suppose.’

  ‘Nothing as yet.’

  ‘It must be terrible for you.’ Olivia touched his arm, looking as though she wanted to say something more about his personal situation. She decided against it and changed the subject instead. ‘Anyway, you will not see Carolyn this evening. She was invited to spend the evening with another friend and I thought it better if she was out of the way. Then you gentlemen can speculate about Sir Robert to your heart’s content without worrying about offending her ears.’

  ‘In other words,’ Jake said, shaking Riley’s hand and passing him a glass of whisky, ‘Olivia has gone to extreme lengths to ensure that she is not excluded from the discussion.’

  ‘The very suggestion!’ Olivia cried indignantly.

  ‘Olivia always makes insightful suggestions,’ Riley pointed out with a smile for the lady in question, taking the seat that she directed him towards. He took a long sip of excellent single malt and then closed his eyes for an expressive moment, allowing the weight of his travails to fall from his shoulders as he relaxed in the comfort of his friend’s opulent mansion.

  ‘You see,’ Olivia said, a playful edge to her voice.

  ‘It looks to me as though our guest would like to take a few minutes to shake off the events of the day before we drag them up again,’ Jake said intuitively.

  But it wasn’t to be. Tom Morton entered the room, full of youthful exuberance and infectious good humour. Riley opened his eyes again, stood up and shook hands with Olivia’s son. They had barely exchanged civilities before Isaac and his wife Eva joined them. They too briefly expressed their sorrow about Jasper and then let the matter drop.

  Jake and Olivia were easy company and Riley found himself relaxing as the conversation turned to general matters over dinner—politics, investments, the exploits of their children—anything other than murder.

  ‘When does Amelia plan to return to London?’ Olivia asked, a twinkle in her eye.

  Riley wondered if Amelia had confided in her, or whether Olivia had simply noticed the spark between him and Amelia and reached her own conclusions. Upon reflection, he doubted whether Amelia would have said anything, even though she and Olivia were close friends. Amelia needed to make her decision without external influence. He wanted his gloriously unpredictable siren to accept him—if she decided to do so—because she loved him. Not because someone else had reminded her of the benefits to the match. As Olivia herself had so astutely pointed out the moment Riley entered the house, Jasper’s demise would only increase the matchmakers’ determination to marry off one of their charges to Riley, who was about to become heir to the Chichester marquessate whether he liked it or not.

  He most emphatically did not, but had no choice in the matter.

  ‘If her aunt continues to improve, she hopes to return early next week,’ Riley replied, only realising when it was too late that he had confirmed Olivia’s suspicions about the nature of their relationship. Amelia would not have communicated that information to a casual acquaintance. He was tempted to explain that she had only written to him when she heard about Sir Robert but decided to let matters rest. Olivia would think whatever she wanted to, regardless of Riley’s protestations, or perhaps because of them.

  ‘It will be good to have her back,’ Olivia contented herself with saying. ‘Don’t you dare talk about Sir Robert when we are not here to make our contribution,’ she added as she and Eva rose to leave the men to their port. Riley helped her with her chair and assured her that they wouldn’t dare.

  They kept their word and avoided the subject until they were reunited with the ladies. A good dinner taken in engaging company had helped Riley to relax, and he now felt able to tackle the subject that he knew his friends most wished to hear him talk about. It didn’t even occur to him to tell them to keep whatever he revealed to themselves, aware that their discretion would be absolute.

  ‘Were any of you aware that Sir Robert had an illegitimate daughter?’ he asked.

  Five startled faces gaping with astonishment answered his question. He explained about Mrs Barchester and Sir Robert’s regular visits to her apartment over the past six months.

  ‘You are thinking, I suppose,’ Jake said, ‘that her husband knew of the visits, jumped to the wrong conclusion and killed Sir Robert in a jealous rage.’

  ‘I would be thinking along those lines, but for the fact that he had no access to the murder weapon.’ He went on to explain about the dagger. ‘I have not yet received the post mortem report, but I know from having seen the body that Sir Robert was attacked from behind, so his assailant had not engaged him in conversation and somehow grabbed the dagger from his bag, always assuming it was still in it. However,’ he added, shifting position and resting one elbow on the arm of his chair, allowing his fingers to rub gently at his chin, ‘Norman Glover is altogether another matter. He had motive and opportunity, and he knew about Mrs Barchester. He followed his father to one of their meetings a
nd jumped to the wrong conclusion. They argued about it, Glover freely admits that much. He called his father a hypocrite when Sir Robert tried to force him to settle down to gainful employment and a life of respectability.’

  ‘You are aware of his…um…friendship with James Boland?’ Tom asked.

  ‘I am, because he told me himself, but I was not aware that it was common knowledge,’ Riley replied. ‘It seems to me that would give him even more incentive to get his hands on his father’s money.’

  ‘Sir Robert’s son has an unnatural relationship with another man?’ Olivia frowned. ‘Poor Sir Robert. If he knew, it would have crucified him.’

  ‘It’s not exactly common knowledge,’ Tom said, ‘but they have been seen together in and around Lincoln’s Inn often enough to raise eyebrows. Barristers and clerks are not immune to gossiping amongst themselves.’

  ‘I obviously don’t give you enough to do if you have time to gossip, Tom,’ Isaac said to a bout of muted laughter.

  ‘What’s Boland like?’ Riley asked. ‘I haven’t got around to him yet but I get the impression from what people have told me that he’s fiercely ambitious.’

  ‘And sharp as a tack.’ It was Isaac who spoke. ‘He’s vying for the senior clerk’s position in Franklin’s chambers and will most likely be appointed to it when the time comes. Franklin remarked to me once that he was lucky to have a clerk who was so well organised and had such a sharp mind.’

  ‘His intelligence won’t help him if he maintains his liaisons with Glover,’ Jake replied. ‘No self-respecting barrister would attract clients with a sodomite in his employ. And I would imagine that the competition wouldn’t hesitate to spread the word.’

  ‘Not I,’ Isaac replied, ‘but I dare say others would.’

  ‘Boland is very personable,’ Tom said. ‘Handsome, charming and subservient enough when it suits his purpose. But beneath all that boyish appeal lies an ambitious and calculating mind. I personally wouldn’t trust him an inch.’

  ‘Is he capable of murder though?’ Riley asked.

  ‘If it protected his personal and professional ambitions, then without a doubt he would be. I don’t suppose he would risk doing it himself though,’ Tom replied. ‘My suggestion, for what it’s worth, is that you look at the company he keeps. He must come across a lot of lowlifes in his line of work. We all do, and one of them will owe him a favour, or be willing to do the dirty for him if the price was right.’

  ‘It’s still one hell of a risk,’ Jake said, ‘especially using Sir Robert’s own dagger.’

  ‘Yes,’ Isaac agreed. ‘Glover might have insisted upon it but Boland wouldn’t have taken the chance. He would want it to look like an opportunist attack.’

  ‘Yet Sir Robert still had all his valuables about his person,’ Riley remarked.

  ‘Perhaps the killer was interrupted before he had time to make it look like a robbery,’ Eva suggested. ‘It was early in the morning, but a lot of people engaged in the legal business make early starts.’ She smiled at her husband. ‘Take it from one who knows.’

  ‘That was the conclusion that I reached,’ Riley told her. ‘About the perpetrator being interrupted, I mean. But the fact remains that Glover is now free from parental pressure, disapproval…call it what you will. Presumably he inherits.’

  ‘Sir Robert’s estate perhaps, but not the title,’ Isaac remarked.

  ‘No. Fortunately that is not hereditary, so we won’t have to call him Sir Norman. Anyway, I shall have to find out how much Sir Robert left. Even so, unless Boland plans to abandon his career, I don’t see how that will help the two of them much. Boland, if he is as clever as you imply, Tom, will have reached the same conclusion.’

  ‘I doubt very much whether Boland intends to quit his position,’ Tom said firmly. ‘He is far too ambitious. Perhaps he did arrange for Sir Robert to be killed though, simply to release Norman from constant parental criticism. Or there could be a more pressing reason to take the risk. If Sir Robert had got wind of their relationship, he would not have permitted it to continue, and since he controlled his son’s income…’

  ‘My thoughts precisely,’ Riley said, inclining his head in agreement.

  ‘But the two men can never live openly together, if that is their intention,’ Jake pointed out, ‘even with Sir Robert out of the way.’

  ‘Perhaps not, but they will have a great deal more freedom to indulge their passions,’ Riley pointed out. ‘Glover can pursue his artistic ambitions—which, I gather, is how he would prefer to occupy his time. Sir Robert told me once that he has some talent but that he has never possessed the discipline to make a success out of his painting, which is why he discouraged the boy from thinking along those lines.’

  ‘Well,’ Jake said, ‘regardless of who carried out the murder, Boland can forge ahead with his career and Norman is now at liberty to do as he likes. They will have the funds to set up a small establishment of their own, away from prying eyes and…well, I cannot see that either of them will grieve for Sir Robert for long.’

  ‘My difficulty is that I have absolutely no evidence to pin either of them to the crime,’ Riley said, feeling his frustration resurfacing. ‘However, I shall set Stout to delve into Boland’s activities.’

  Riley’s manservant had proved useful in helping with his cases in the past. He possessed the ability to blend into all backgrounds without standing out or drawing attention to himself, whereas anyone from Scotland Yard would be pegged for a policeman before he’d gone ten paces.

  ‘And then, of course, there’s Joseph Milton to consider,’ Riley continued with a weary sigh. ‘Sir Robert’s murder has come at a very convenient time for him. Not only does it leave him as senior barrister in Sir Robert’s very successful chambers, it also gives him an opportunity to take over the prosecution of a high-profile case that Sir Robert was considering dropping.’

  ‘He was?’ Isaac raised a brow. ‘First I’ve heard of it.’

  ‘Sir Robert discussed his concerns with Mrs Barchester and she told me.’

  ‘What high-profile case?’ Olivia asked.

  ‘A young girl allegedly killed by the older man with whom she was having an affair,’ Isaac replied. ‘I am defending. The girl was young, but she was also promiscuous. Caldwell was not her first but Sir Robert and I had agreed we would not blacken the victim’s reputation by revealing as much in court.’

  ‘Milton lost no time in persuading the victim’s family to allow him to take over,’ Riley observed. ‘He registered his interest at the Bailey this morning.’ Isaac elevated one brow again but said nothing. ‘He sees it as an opportunity to score a win against you, Isaac. I have a feeling he has underhand tactics in mind, but I cannot say what they are. Now he too could have got hold of the dagger and surprised Sir Robert on his way to chambers. He knew his routine better than most, and his alibi for the vital time is suspect.’

  ‘Perhaps they argued and Milton somehow grabbed the dagger from Sir Robert’s bag, or Sir Robert took it out to defend himself.’ Tom shook his head. ‘Ignore me, I’m being fanciful. The likes of Sir Robert and Milton do not brawl in public places.’ He chuckled. ‘Behind closed doors and beneath a polite veneer of respectability, now that’s another matter entirely.’

  Everyone laughed, lightening the mood.

  ‘Poor Riley,’ Eva said sympathetically. ‘It must be hard for you to concentrate, what with events in Chichester, but I dare say the pieces will fall into place eventually.’

  ‘I wish I shared your confidence in my abilities,’ Riley replied with a wry smile.

  ‘Milton doesn’t make himself popular at the Bailey,’ Tom said. ‘He’s a win at any cost sort of barrister, which doesn’t earn him any favours from the rest of us, who try to see justice served.’

  ‘He also has a very ambitious wife, who is keen to be seen in all the right places,’ Isaac added. ‘And that, of course, requires money and prestige.’

  ‘Milton is under pressure t
o meet his wife’s expectations?’ Riley asked, sitting a little straighter as the emergence of a stronger motive.

  Isaac shrugged. ‘I cannot know if they are her expectations or if Milton has made her unrealistic promises upon which she now expects him to deliver.’

  ‘But either way,’ Jake pointed out, ‘Sir Robert’s murder works decidedly in Milton’s favour.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Riley said, inclining his head in Tom and Isaac’s direction. ‘That is helpful. However, there are still other avenues for me to explore. If any one of the people Sir Robert sent to gaol in the past held a grudge and saw an opportunity for revenge…well, the case will never be solved.’

  ‘And will eat away at you for years,’ Olivia said sympathetically.

  ‘I have two constables trawling through his old cases to see if any particularly violent threats were issued against Sir Robert, but I don’t hold out much hope of learning anything from that quarter.’

  ‘You never know,’ Tom said.

  ‘At the moment I’m attempting to keep an open mind.’ Riley sighed. ‘I sent Salter to the Archaeological Society this afternoon to see what he could learn about Professor Barchester. Now he does interest me, but—’

  ‘The Archaeological Society.’ Eva brightened considerably. ‘That is where I have heard Barchester’s name. I had been trying to think.’

  ‘My wife is an enthusiastic member,’ Isaac explained with a tender smile for the lady in question.

  ‘I enjoy the lectures and hearing about far-flung places and interesting discoveries. Isaac keeps promising to take me so that I can see these places for myself, but while he is married to the Old Bailey as well as me there seems little chance of him making good on his promise. So,’ she explained, spreading her hands, ‘hearing about them from people in the know is the next best thing. Talking of which, I think there is a lecture tomorrow afternoon about Egypt. Professor Barchester is bound to be there.’ She sent a speculative smile Olivia’s way. ‘Perhaps we should be as well.’

 

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