Death of a Debutante (Riley Rochester Investigates Book 1)

by Wendy Soliman

  Martha laughed out loud. ‘The next thing we know, you will be advising against full stops,’ she said lightly.

  ‘Oh no, I think we need to keep those,’ Sophia said after a moment’s consideration. ‘Otherwise it might seem like the person speaking was rambling on and on, and we need full stops to…well, to stop them.’

  ‘Who does that remind us of, I wonder,’ Riley mused, ruffling Sophia’s hair.

  ‘We have drifted from the point,’ the dowager said. ‘Which is that you would be advised to maintain correct posture at all times, Sophia. Really. Young girls nowadays have no self-control.’

  ‘Daniel will be at White’s, I expect, if you want to quiz him about his investments,’ Martha remarked to Riley. ‘He is a creature of habit and always whiles away a few hours there every evening at about this time.’

  ‘It’s not that important, but I will run him to ground at some point,’ Riley said, fully intending to do so the moment his family took their leave.

  ‘We came as well to remind you that Lady Bilton is hosting a social evening tomorrow,’ the dowager said. ‘You did say that you might make the time to attend.’

  ‘I am going,’ Sophia said, unable to disguise her excitement at her first foray into society. ‘Grandmamma and Aunt Martha are taking me along since I know Lady Bilton’s daughters. One is the same age as me. It will be such fun.’ She sent Riley an entreating smile. ‘Do come, Uncle Riley. I want to show you off, and you must promise to dance with me, just in case no one else offers.’

  His mother wanted to show him off too, Riley knew. She never tired of dragging him to one social event after another, hoping to tempt him into matrimony. Her elder son and all three of her daughters were married but it seemed she would never be satisfied until she saw Riley leg-shackled too. He could use the case as a legitimate excuse not to attend tomorrow’s soiree, and had fully intended to do so until Sophia mentioned her own attendance. She was the closest thing to a daughter that he would ever have and he would enjoy seeing her unjaded response to a situation that had long since left Riley feeling…well, jaded.

  ‘Your mother and father are not coming up from the country, Cabbage?’

  ‘Lord no, they won’t leave Jasper.’

  ‘Good heavens, why ever not? Your brother is seven now and I’m sure he can be left in the care of the nursery staff. He will be going off to preparatory school soon, after all.’

  ‘No he won’t,’ Sophia replied. ‘Mama and Papa have decided that his health is too frail to take the risk and that he will have to have a tutor at home instead.’

  Riley and Martha shared a glance. Henry had fathered three daughters and had almost despaired of siring an heir when Jasper finally came along. Riley and Martha agreed that the child was mollycoddled and overindulged. Jasper had grown into a weak-willed and indolent little boy, a sullen child whom it was difficult to regard with affection.

  ‘That is a mistake,’ Riley said mildly. ‘Jasper needs to mix with his peers now. He will be disadvantaged when he goes up to Eton if he does not.’

  ‘Your brother knows what’s best for his son,’ the dowager replied. ‘However, such care would not be necessary if you took your responsibilities more seriously, Riley.’ Riley suppressed a sigh, having known he would receive the customary lecture sooner rather than later. ‘Celia can’t have more children, you know, that’s why Jasper is so precious to them. But if you were to marry and produce sons it would ease the pressure.’

  ‘I dare say it would, Mother, but I consider it insufficient reason for so doing.’

  ‘Will you come tomorrow night, Uncle Riley?’ Sophia forgot about being a young lady and fell to her knees in entreaty. ‘Please!’

  ‘Oh, very well, Cabbage. I won’t make any promises, but if I possibly can then I will.’

  ‘Oh, thank you!’ Sophia jumped to her feet, threw her arms around Riley’s neck and hugged him, taking his half-promise as a firm commitment.

  ‘Lady Fullerton has a niece staying with her. I would like you to meet her,’ the dowager said, gathering up her stocking purse as she readied herself for departure.

  So that was what all this was about, Riley realised as he waved his relations off. A double ploy. They would exploit Riley’s position and Emily’s murder to make them the centre of attention at Lady Bilton’s party, at which point Lady Fullerton’s niece would be dangled before him like a worm on a hook. Sophia’s presence amongst them had been a deliberate ploy to make him accept the invitation. His mother knew that Riley would prefer to walk over hot coals rather than attend Lady Bilton’s reception. But he made no secret of the fact that he was inordinately fond of Sophia and so it was reasonable for his mother to suppose that he would want to witness her first foray into society. Perhaps his policeman’s instinct had made it easy for him to see through the machinations of his own family. Their attempt at coercion had succeeded, but it was about as subtle as the blow that had incapacitated Emily, and the crude bluff served only to undermine the veneer of manners and civility that underscored their every move in society.

  If only this damned case were so easy to unravel, Riley thought, chuckling to himself as he saw the funny side of being manipulated. Having waved his relations off, he returned to the reception room and made quick work of the meal that Stout laid out for him. Then he reclaimed his hat and took himself off to White’s in search of his brother-in-law.

  He found him ensconced in an armchair, hidden behind the pages of a newspaper. Riley took the chair across from him and cleared his throat twice before Daniel realised he was there.

  ‘I say, Riley!’ Daniel, one of the most easy-going men of Riley’s acquaintance, beamed up at him. ‘I heard that the family was to descend upon you. Did you make a break for freedom?’

  ‘I weathered the storm,’ Riley replied, signalling to a steward to bring him a glass of wine.

  ‘And survived to tell the tale. Well done! But for heaven’s sake go and get yourself a wife, old chap. Your mother seems to live in my house half the time and never loses an opportunity to harp on about your lack of duty.’

  Riley laughed. ‘I can well imagine.’ The waiter brought his wine and he relaxed into his comfortable winged-back leather chair and took a sip. ‘Don’t worry. Sophia will be out before you know it and Mother will then concentrate her efforts on her.’

  ‘Well, there is that, I suppose.’ Daniel folded the paper and put it aside. ‘What’s all this I read about bodies in Ashton’s music room?’

  ‘True, I’m afraid.’

  ‘And you’ve been landed with the investigation.’ Daniel’s mouth turned down. ‘Don’t envy you dealing with Ashton. He’s a bit of a tyrant and likes to have his way. He has the devil of a temper when roused, too.’

  ‘I have already discovered that much.’ Riley acknowledged an acquaintance across the room, but discouraged him from joining them by immediately returning his attention to Daniel. All anyone would want to talk to him about was the murder, and Riley couldn’t discuss it. ‘Martha tells me that you withdrew your investment from his company. Any particular reason why?’

  ‘It wasn’t paying as well as I’d hoped.’ Daniel, a shrewd investor, leaned back, glass dangling negligently between the fingers of one hand. ‘It started off giving a better return than expected, but profits quickly went down. I wasn’t worried at first. It happens. One has to take the rough with the smooth. Ashton himself assured me that it was a blip.’

  ‘What were you investing in?’

  ‘A mixture of options, high risk and safe.’ He shrugged. ‘You know me, I don’t put all my eggs in one basket.’ Riley nodded. Neither did he. ‘The routine stuff continued to pay a modest return. I had no complaints about that. I received a fraction more than if I’d left it in the bank and there wasn’t much risk involved. But dividends on the high end investments dried up completely. And it wasn’t just me. A few others I knew of who’d joined the scheme weren’t seeing anything from it either.’
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  ‘You think there was something amiss, or worse, he was using new investors’ money to pay existing clients, until the new money dried up?’

  ‘It crossed my mind. I don’t like or trust Ashton but thought he was a shrewd businessman. He begged me to change my mind when I said I wanted out. Kept sending me invites to expensive events. A day at the Derby, a party on a riverboat, stuff like that. I respectfully declined and insisted upon a full refund of my investment.’ Daniel sighed. ‘I got it in the end but lost money overall. There were penalty clauses for early withdrawal, don’t you know.’ He spread his hands. ‘Such is life. I won’t be taken in by Ashton again. Nor will any of my friends. I’ve warned them all.’

  ‘Did they get their blunt back?’

  ‘Yes, I think so. But Ashton wasn’t happy about having to stump it up. They were wined and dined as well, and implored to think again, but they smelled a rat and refused to be swayed. I get the impression that the mass exodus hurt Ashton badly, and that he’s flirting with bankruptcy. A victim of his own success, or his own greed, depending upon how you look at it. Seemed to think he had the Midas touch. I’ve seen it before. He was using his status to try and work his way up the social ladder.’ Daniel winced. ‘Don’t suppose murdered debutantes fetching up in his music room will help him in that regard.’

  ‘He never had much hope of breaching society’s defences anyway.’ Riley finished his drink, stood up and shook Daniel’s hand. ‘Thanks for the information. It helps.’

  ‘You don’t think Ashton had a hand in bumping the girl off, do you?’ Daniel stood also, and lowered his voice. ‘There isn’t much I would put past him, but he’s nobody’s fool and I doubt he’d do anything to scupper his reputation unless that reputation was beyond repair anyway.’

  ‘But as you said, he has a temper,’ Riley remarked as the two men headed for the door and claimed their hats from the porter.

  ‘Even so.’

  ‘Keep this conversation between us for now, Daniel,’ Riley said. ‘I’m under pressure to get to the bottom of this matter, but it’s like walking over broken glass barefoot. I have my chief inspector on one side, waiting for me to make a wrong move so that he can throw me out the department, and Ashton on the other, doing his very best to hamper my investigation and divert suspicion from his own door.’

  ‘I can well imagine, and I don’t envy you.’ The two men stood on the pavement outside the club. ‘Let me know if I can help in any other way. Are you being dragged to Lady Bilton’s tomorrow?’

  Riley nodded. ‘Mother played her trump card.’

  ‘Sophia,’ the said together, laughing as they strolled down St. James’s Street, their leisurely pace a concession to the stifling heat.

  Chapter Eight

  The following morning Riley waited on the South Carriage Drive in Hyde Park, astride his black gelding, Warrior. Dawn had just broken and there were few people about. The heat was already stifling, no breeze to be had and no sign of a break in the weather. The horse didn’t like it either, and tossed his head, shaking away the early flies. Riley clicked his tongue and pressed Warrior into the shade of a row of trees. Despite the heat Riley appreciated the stillness, the absolute peace in this oasis of calm in the centre of a city that was coming to life at the start of another day.

  He didn’t have long to enjoy the solitude before the guest he had invited to join him rode into view. He admired the sight of Amelia, perched side-saddle on her chestnut mare, Solitaire. An apt name, Riley had often thought, that reflected Amelia’s insistence upon riding about unescorted despite his constant warnings about the dangers. He raised a hand in greeting as Amelia approached. She was clad in a lightweight green habit, her features concealed beneath a half veil that fell from her elegant top hat.

  ‘Good morning,’ she said. ‘I hope I have not kept you waiting.’

  ‘Not at all.’ They moved off at a sedate walk. ‘I hope you didn’t mind being summonsed, but I know you are that rarest of females, an early riser.’

  ‘A backhanded compliment,’ Amelia said, grinning. ‘But I will take what I can get. I presume you want to talk to me about the case and grill me upon Mary’s behaviour for the rest of yesterday.’

  ‘Perceptive as ever.’ They had reached the Row, a traditional gallop that Warrior recognised. He pranced sideways beneath Riley’s weight, anxious to stretch his legs. ‘But first, shall we let them have their fun?’

  ‘By all means.’

  They raced the length of the Row, Riley holding Warrior back so that his stride matched that of the smaller Solitaire. Riders and horses were both breathing hard when they reached the end of the Row. Riley led the way onto another path at walking pace.

  ‘Phew, it’s hot!’ Amelia complained as she patted Solitaire’s sweaty neck. ‘When will this wretched heatwave end?’

  ‘I wish I knew. Our uniformed constables have been called to break up twice as many disputes as usual. The heat makes tempers fray and fists fly.’

  ‘Well, men do so like to fight at the smallest opportunity, so what else can you expect.’ Amelia smiled sweetly. She nodded towards an empty bench in the shade of a row of oaks, and Riley dismounted. He was happy to be off the sweating horse, and he was certain the horse reciprocated the feeling. He lifted a hand to help Amelia from her saddle and they sat in the welcome shade, leaving the horses on long reins to crop the grass. Amelia continued where she had left off. ‘I took Mary home and stayed with her all the afternoon. Her doctor called and gave her a sedative, so she slept for several hours. Her maid sat with her during that time and I was able to go home for a while and attend to my own affairs. But I returned to take supper with her. She seemed a little calmer but still very overset, the poor dear. She didn’t eat very much and kept breaking down in tears, but it seemed from the odd remark she made that the tears were occasioned by fear as much as sadness for her loss.’

  ‘Fear about her husband’s return? They had looked forward to their daughter providing them with a comfortable future. Now Ferguson will have to work for a living.’

  Amelia sent him a sideways glance. ‘So cynical, Riley.’

  ‘But true, my dear.’

  ‘She didn’t say anything quite so specific, but I expect you’re right. Annoyingly, you usually are.’

  Riley chuckled. ‘I live to serve.’ He paused. ‘Ferguson cabled Ashton and gave him his approval to a match with Emily.’

  ‘Did he?’ Amelia widened his eyes. ‘Mary didn’t know that. I am sure she would have mentioned it if she did.’

  ‘One must assume that dear Papa instructed his daughter to accept Terrance’s next proposal.’

  ‘Indeed one must.’ Amelia paused. ‘But what if Emily decided not to do as she was told?’

  ‘What indeed?’

  Riley knew he shouldn’t do what he was about to do. It would cost him his career if it was discovered that he had shared any particulars of the investigation with a potential suspect. Be that as it may, he knew Amelia had not killed Emily. She was incapable of killing anyone, had no reason to do anything so foolish and stood to gain nothing from Emily’s death. He was equally convinced that Mary Ferguson had possession of a vital piece of evidence, her daughter’s diary. She was not so distraught that she didn’t realise how vital it was, and Riley knew that she would never admit to having it. He would prefer it if Amelia could lay her hands on it without Riley having to conduct a search. The formalities of such an operation would no doubt set the victim’s family against him, which was something he wanted to avoid.

  ‘What I have to tell you now is strictly between us. I can depend upon your discretion?’

  ‘Naturally. But don’t say or do anything that makes you uncomfortable. You don’t need to actually tell me anything. Just explain what it is that you want me to do and you can be sure that I will do it, if I possibly can.’

  Riley smiled his gratitude, reached across the space that separated them and briefly squeezed her hand. ‘Thank
you.’

  He told her about the missing diary and his urgent need to have sight of it.

  ‘You think Mary suspected her daughter of developing an interest in someone she knew nothing about, accounting for Emily’s unwillingness to accept any of the proposals that came her way?’

  ‘I think it a reasonable assumption. I read the letters from her father, and every one of them emphasised how much he relied upon her making a good marriage. That was a tremendous responsibility to place upon such young shoulders, and I imagine Emily resented it. Yet she tied those letters up with a ribbon and kept them, which implies that they were important to her and that she meant to do right by her family. Or did before she met her mystery admirer, at which point she became conflicted.’

  ‘If Mary has any sense, she will have destroyed that diary before Emily’s father returns home. She wouldn’t want you to see it—’

  Riley raised a brow. ‘Even if it contains information that points to the killer’s identity?’

  ‘Not if that killer is a young man that she met and Mary didn’t stop the liaison. She is more afraid of her husband than concerned about bringing the killer to book, I think, and certainly wouldn’t want to risk Ferguson getting his hands on anything that he could use to punish her with. Even so, I plan to spend the day with her and if she falls asleep, I will conduct a search of her things. She keeps a large embroidery bag by her side at all times. If I had to hazard a guess, I would say that the diary, if it’s anywhere, would be in there.’ Amelia waved a hand in the air. ‘But be warned, if she has hidden it in her chamber, I will never find it.’

  ‘Don’t take any risks. It would be useful to see it but I am sure I shall be able to track the young man down by other means.’

  ‘Through her piano teacher?’

  Riley smiled. ‘You are ahead of me, as always.’

  ‘It seems an obvious step.’