Death of a Debutante (Riley Rochester Investigates Book 1)

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Death of a Debutante (Riley Rochester Investigates Book 1) Page 25

by Wendy Soliman


  ‘Probably. Anyway, my assumption is that Susan was attempting to blackmail Terrance when he declined to stand by her and the baby. After all, she supposedly coerced Emily into the music room and then lied to us about her involvement.’

  ‘How will you prove it?’

  Riley lifted one shoulder. ‘I intend to have an expert look at that letter and compare it to both the Ashtons’ hands. Then I shall lean on whichever of them I am told is more likely to have written it.’

  ‘Will that be enough?’ Amelia appeared dubious. ‘I can’t see either of them confessing and because of who they are, a jury is unlikely to convict without a confession. One would hang and the other would be disgraced. They will stick together and concoct some story that Danforth will make you accept as gospel. All the time Lord Ashton has your superior’s ear, he feels as though he is untouchable.’

  ‘My chief inspector is currently trying to make me charge Emily’s young man with the crime.’ He went on to explain about Harry Grant and how he had managed to confirm his account of his activities on the fateful night. ‘He is a child prodigy in many respects. Very passionate about his music, and about Emily, but totally unworldly and impractical. And in my opinion totally incapable of murdering anyone. But I haven’t told Danforth that or it will get back to Ashton in double quick time.’

  ‘You still have the boy in custody?’

  ‘For his own safety. But I don’t have much time, another day at the most.’ Riley stared at the garden without actually seeing it. ‘At which point I fear the most dreadful miscarriage of justice might happen, and I will be powerless to prevent it.’

  ‘Grant will be charged with a murder he didn’t commit and poor Susan’s death will be deemed a suicide.’

  ‘Precisely.’

  ‘Well then, we can’t allow that to happen.’ Amelia spoke briskly. ‘How can I help? I presume you do need my help, which is why you are here. Or is my whisky of better quality than yours?’

  ‘You are easier on the eye than Stout.’

  She laughed. ‘Your compliments are not very…well, complimentary.’

  ‘I don’t want to overstep the mark.’

  ‘Heaven forbid that you should.’

  Riley sent her a quizzical look, wondering what she meant by that remark. Wondering at the same time why he had instigated the flirtatious exchange. ‘I keep coming back to the timescale involved in Emily’s murder,’ he said. ‘I couldn’t understand why she waited in the music room for so long, unless Susan offered a compelling reason for her to do so. Even so, we know she was still alive a good twenty minutes after being called from the grounds, because Leith and Murray heard her in there talking to someone.’

  ‘Murray?’

  Riley explained about Leith’s involvement with the young footman and their passionate interlude beneath the terrace.

  ‘Goodness. I was there all the time and oblivious to the goings-on.’

  ‘I am very glad you didn’t come across those two,’ Riley said with feeling. ‘I very much doubt if their exchange began and ended with a simple kiss.’

  ‘Oh, well then, I am doubly sorry that I missed it. I and no prude and I’m sure it would have been educational.’

  ‘Emily was heard talking to a woman,’ Riley said, shaking his head at a smiling Amelia. She would be the death of him yet, the infuriating tease. He had no intention of discussing the details of sodomy with her, even though he could tell she was amused by his deliberate change of subject. ‘No woman would wait that long for a young man who supposedly loved her to come and declare himself, would she? It would be the height of bad manners to keep her waiting, and would hardly be likely to endear him to her.’

  ‘In a similar situation, I would not wait five minutes,’ Amelia said.

  ‘The music that Grant left for Emily to find wouldn’t have delayed her for that long,’ Riley said, preferring not to dwell upon the depressing prospect of another man proposing to Amelia. A small voice inside his head told him there was an easy way to prevent that situation from arising, but Riley wasn’t prepared to consider it quite yet.

  Perhaps not ever.

  ‘Whoever sent for Emily was delayed because the men, one of whom murdered her, were playing billiards?’ she asked.

  ‘They all agreed that was the case, but something that Leith said this afternoon struck a chord.’ Riley shifted position on his chair and draped one arm negligently along the back of Amelia’s. ‘He said he played Terrance at billiards before going onto the terrace to meet Murray and was thrashed in ten minutes flat. But I actually don’t think that any billiards was played at all. Certainly not any proper games.’

  ‘They have colluded and agreed to say that it was because they knew suspicion would fall on all of them if they did not. They were in competition for Emily’s favours after all.’

  ‘Quick on the uptake as always, my darling.’ Amelia looked as surprised at the endearment as Riley himself was when it slipped past his lips. ‘They had plenty of time to agree on a common account before I arrived. Perhaps Lord Ashton insisted upon it. All three young men are dependent upon parental approval and their fathers wouldn’t take kindly to their names being linked to a murder, however tenuously. If I am right, it means that any one of them could have been anywhere at any time after they left the gardens and the company of the ladies.’

  ‘Yes, I can quite see that. But how will you prove it?’

  ‘I shall speak with Peter Granville again. He, I am absolutely convinced, had nothing to do with Emily’s death. He is also a solicitor, sworn to tell the truth. If I discover that he is not, I could make life very difficult for him in the legal profession.’

  ‘You still haven’t explained what you need from me.’

  ‘Emily’s missing diary.’

  Amelia shrugged one slender shoulder. ‘What of it?’

  ‘Grant mentioned that she often took refuge in the summerhouse at the bottom of the Ferguson’s garden whenever she required solitude.’

  ‘Of course! How dense of me not to have thought of it before now. She was often in that summerhouse.’ Amelia’s eyes were wide with excitement. ‘You imagine the diary is hidden in there somewhere and would like me to find it for you.’

  ‘If you can think of a convincing reason to search for it, what with your friend being away. I could go in there myself, of course, but my official presence would arouse suspicion.’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry. If it’s there I shall find it. I remember very well all the places young girls hide things that are important to them. And Jute will let me in there without asking questions.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘You imagine it will give you the proof you require that Emily planned to accept Terrance’s proposal.’

  ‘But no proof that she actually did so, not if she intended to make her decision that evening at Ashton’s—which is what Grant implied and what compelled him to follow her there. That’s why it isn’t vital that I see it immediately.’

  Amelia frowned. ‘But if she planned to accept Terrance, why would Terrance murder her?’

  ‘Perhaps he didn’t.’ Riley’s face was grim. ‘He was definitely deeply in love with her, but not in a position to save her family’s fortunes. However, a man so violently in love wouldn’t let that deter him. He’d probably convinced himself that the bank’s setbacks were temporary, simply because he’s grown up accustomed to having money and lacks the imagination to suppose it could ever run out. Prudence, I suspect, was advising Terrance on how best to recover their position, without their father’s knowledge. She has more brains and common sense then both the men in her family put together.’

  ‘I certainly agree with that assessment,’ Amelia said. ‘I feel quite sorry for the poor girl.’

  ‘Ashton wanted his son to marry a girl with a decent dowry and a better pedigree. He encountered his son on the terrace, presumably just after his proposal had been accepted, and they argued about it. Ashton told Te
rrance to withdraw said proposal and Terrance refused. So Ashton took matters into his own hands. He tried to persuade Emily not to go ahead, without telling her why. He would never make such a humbling admission to his son’s prospective bride—or anyone at all, for that matter. Emily refused. He grabbed her by the wrist and when she still wouldn’t see reason he lost his temper and punched her in the stomach. We know he has a temper that he can’t always control when someone defies him. He panicked when he realised what he had done and knew Emily wouldn’t keep quiet about it. And so, he quietened her himself. Permanently.’

  Amelia paled. ‘I cannot find fault with your logic,’ she said, ‘since I wouldn’t put anything past him. But at this stage everything is conjecture and you have no proof.’

  ‘Not yet, but there must be something I’ve overlooked. There almost always is.’

  The sun had finally gone down and a welcome breeze rustled through the trees that bordered the quiet garden. It was turning into a perfect summer’s night. ‘Will you stay to dine with me, Riley?’ Amelia asked.

  ‘Tempting though the prospect is, I must decline,’ he said, standing. ‘I want to see if I can catch Peter Granville in his lodgings before he goes out for the evening.’

  ‘Of course.’ She stood too. ‘I shall search for the diary first thing tomorrow and send word if I find it.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  He grasped her shoulders and dropped a light kiss on her lips, pulling away again before temptation got the better of him and he turned the gesture into something more meaningful. He strode back through the house, collected his hat and walked through the front door that Norris opened for him, conscious of a bemused Amelia watching him go. Her hand, he noticed as he glanced back, was again raised to touch the lips he had just so imprudently kissed. He waved to her, but she remained immobile, not returning his gesture, her shape outlined against the falling light of the summer’s evening.

  Riley felt as though he spent half of his working life of late rattling around London in worn-out hansoms. This one deposited him outside Granville’s lodgings in Moon Street where, for a consideration, the jarvey agreed to wait.

  Granville opened the door himself in response to Riley’s knock. His man was nowhere in sight.

  ‘Ah, Lord Riley.’ Consternation flickered through his expression. ‘I thought I would be seeing you again. Come in. How can I help?’

  Riley followed the man into his parlour, declining an invitation to sit and another to take refreshment.

  ‘Why did you lie to me?’ he asked in a stern voice.

  ‘Lie?’ Granville assessed Riley with a combination of bravado and fear on his face. Riley kept his own expression impassive. ‘What are you implying?’

  ‘There was no fierce competition at the billiards table, was there?’

  Granville paused for a significant moment and then visibly deflated. ‘No, there was not. None of us had the heart for it. We were trying to behave in a civilized manner when all we really wanted to do was bash one another’s brains out in an effort to win Emily, by default if you like.’

  ‘Whose idea was it to lie about it?’

  ‘Terrance’s, but I think his father suggested it. I wasn’t happy about it because I knew I had nothing to hide. I didn’t kill the poor girl. But of course I couldn’t prove it and nor could any of the others, who were also proclaiming their innocence. Anyway, the shock wore off and our first thought was then to alibi one another.’

  ‘Was there are billiards at all?’

  ‘One frame. Terrance and Michael played. Terrance is by far the best player out of the three of us, but Michael didn’t have his mind on the game and was quickly beaten.’

  Riley nodded. Leith had told him the same thing. ‘And after that? Think carefully before you answer me. It’s vital that I know the truth.’ He drilled Granville with an icy look. ‘You don’t need me to tell you that it’s a serious offence to impede a criminal investigation. Being untruthful could affect your career and even cost you your liberty.’

  ‘I did not…I…’

  ‘If I had known the truth from the outset, who was where and when, there is every possibility that a young woman might still be alive today.’

  Granville looked shocked. ‘Emily, but—’

  ‘No, not Emily. A maid in Ashton’s household.’

  ‘Good God!’ He fell into a chair and dropped his head into his splayed hands. ‘Someone else is dead. How? When?’

  ‘That doesn’t concern you.’ Riley paused. ‘Not now. But there is an outside possibility that your honesty could have prevented her death, and if I prove that is the case I will have you for it.’

  Granville looked mortified. ‘This matter is running out of control.’ He looked up at Riley, his features rigid with tension. ‘What do you need to know?’

  ‘After Terrance and Michael played that one frame, who went where?’

  ‘I stayed in the billiards room and practiced a few shots. In truth, I was grateful for the peace and quiet. I had no desire to join the older set in the drawing room, I was tired of the polite bickering that had sprung up between the three of us and I knew that I didn’t stand a hope in hell of getting Emily alone. I told you the truth when I said I’d resigned myself to failure in that regard. It seemed to me that she had settled her interest elsewhere, and I don’t mean upon one of us.’

  ‘What made you so sure about that?’

  ‘It’s hard to say. She was polite but distant with all of us, I suppose. She treated us all exactly the same. If she had decided to accept one of us, there would have been tell-tale signs.’

  ‘Very well. You remained in the billiards room the entire time?’

  ‘Until Terrance came dashing back into the room, as white as a sheet, and told me the dreadful news.’

  ‘Which is when you decided to lie about your whereabouts?’

  ‘I didn’t lie,’ Granville replied. ‘I was in the billiards room the entire time, and you won’t find anyone who will say otherwise.’

  ‘Returning to the time that Leith and Ashton left the room. Did they go together?’

  Granville closed his eyes in an effort to recollect. ‘No, Leith went first. Terrance lingered for a while and gave me the benefit of his advice when I miscued a shot. Damned impudence! Anyway, he left shortly after that and I didn’t see him again until the alarm was raised.’ Granville looked up at Riley in a supplicating manner. ‘Look, I’m sorry I wasn’t more forthcoming, but we had a gentleman’s agreement. This doesn’t have to come out, does it? The pater will bust a gut if—’

  ‘That rather depends upon the willingness of the murderer to confess.’

  Riley didn’t intend to offer platitudes that would lessen Granville’s guilt. He was tired of being lied to and manipulated.

  They spoke for a while longer but it was evident that Granville had nothing more to say that would help Riley. He returned home to a meal and an early night. Tomorrow, he told himself, he would find a way to get to the truth and bring the murderer or murderers to book.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Riley rose with the dawn and ate his breakfast by the window, gazing out over the rooftops of London. The dawn colours of the sky turned gradually to blue, and thin veils of high cloud reflected pinks and oranges. It was the first cloud he’d seen it what felt like weeks. A ragged breeze was blowing, bringing a damp smell with it from the river. He paid no particular attention to the food that Stout placed in front of him and turned his attention to the morning’s newspapers for the latest news on Emily’s murder. They were long on speculation, short on fact. There was no mention at all of Susan’s untimely demise.

  He left for the Yard and was at his desk shortly after sunrise. Paxton had come through and delivered for his personal attention samples of both Ashtons’ handwriting—directions to Border for alterations to a new coat in Lord Ashton’s case and a scribbled note about one of the bank’s investors that Terrance had cleared discarded, since th
e paper was crumpled. Riley was in the process of comparing both hands to Susan’s suicide note when Salter joined him.

  ‘Ah, Jack, there you are. I think we can discount Lord Ashton as Susan’s killer.’ He waved the elder Ashton’s handwriting sample in the air. ‘His hand is a spidery scrawl that reflects his impatient nature, completely different to that on the suicide note, even allowing for the fact that the person who wrote the latter was attempting to disguise his style.’

  Salter looked over Riley’s shoulder and grunted his agreement. ‘Shame,’ he said. ‘I wanted him to be the guilty party. What about Terrance?’

  ‘I think he’s a more likely suspect. He’s done a good job of disguising his hand, but not good enough. I was told once by an expert in a previous case that one can tell more from the slant of a person’s hand than from the size and shape of the letters.’

  ‘Size and shape being the obvious way to alter a style.’

  ‘Exactly so, but look at this.’ He pointed to the suicide note. ‘If you look carefully, you will see that all the letters slope very fractionally to the right.’ Riley picked up his recently discarded magnifying glass and handed it to Salter. ‘It’s not immediately noticeable, probably because Terrance—if we assume it was him—was writing slowly in an effort to disguise his hand. On the normal sample the right slope is much more obvious. As is the distinctive manner in which he shapes his l’s and h’s. An expert will confirm it, I think, and I will arrange for one to take a look.’

  ‘What shall we do in the meantime, sir?’

  Riley waved his sergeant into the chair in front of his desk and told him about his interview with Granville the night before.

  ‘I scared the life out of him, threatening to report his actions to the Law Society, which would see him at the very least disciplined, possibly disbarred. They take a dim view of their members being untruthful. Or at least they do if they’re caught. They’re lawyers, for heaven’s sake. They’d have to dismiss every last one of them if they seriously expect them to be truthful.’ Salter grunted his amusement. ‘Granville was more afraid of his father finding out, I think. Anyway, I’m satisfied that he told me the truth this time.’ Riley leaned back in his chair. ‘It changes everything, of course. I was worried about the timing of the crime all along. Why would Emily wait so long in that music room after being summoned there? But it seems she might not have had to wait so long after all.’

 

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