‘Are you sure you should do that?’ Salter asked, sounding dubious. ‘It could cost you your career.’
Riley shrugged. ‘Possibly, but better that than see an innocent man hang. Apart from anything else, it would be a criminal waste of a prodigious talent.’
They returned to the Yard. Danforth was nowhere to be seen. Riley wondered if Lord Ashton’s meeting had actually been with him. It wasn’t beyond the bounds of possibility. He took the opportunity to release Grant, impressing upon him the urgent need to return to Paris. He told Harper to go with him to his home to collect his belongings and see him safely on the train to Dover, from where he would catch the next ship for France. Grant seemed bewildered, unable to understand the urgency. All Riley could hope for was that he would remain in Paris, out of sight. There was nothing more he could do for him.
Outside the police station, Riley shook Grant’s hand in front of the waiting hansom. ‘Good luck, Grant,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry for your loss, and I’m sorry for detaining you for so long. Stay in Paris and complete your work. I hope one day to hear it performed.’
Grant’s bewilderment gave way to a tentative smile. He looked from Riley to Salter, then up to the blue summer sky. Then, as if he finally understood the seriousness of his situation, he climbed into his conveyance with alacrity and was gone.
By mid-afternoon there was still no indication that Terrance Ashton intended to confess. Riley wasn’t surprised, but he was starting to get impatient. He was faced with the certainty that he would have to arrest him. Perhaps he should have done so that morning. Riley was uncomfortably aware that if he had been anyone else then he very likely would have. He hadn’t done so because he was trying to avoid another battle of wills with Danforth, at least until he had collected enough evidence to make it impossible for the chief inspector to order Ashton’s immediate release. So much for justice being blind, he thought with a wry smile. Given enough money and influence it could be deaf, dumb and stupid too.
Riley became increasingly uncomfortable as the day progressed and there was still no sign of Terrance Ashton. He and Salter were deliberating their next move when Peterson burst in without knocking.
‘Begging your pardon, sir,’ he said breathlessly, ‘but Mrs Cosgrove is here. She’s in quite a state and says she must speak to you on a matter of the utmost urgency.’
‘What the devil…’ Riley shared a bemused look with his sergeant. ‘Show her in at once.’
Amelia had no reason he could think of to call upon him at the Yard, unless she had found and read Emily’s diary and decided it contained information that he ought to see immediately. Riley decided that must be the case, until she walked into his office and he saw how distressed she actually was. Fear trickled down his spine as he instinctively reached for her.
‘What is it?’ Riley held her, stroking her shaking shoulders as her tears soaked the front of his shirt. ‘What on earth has happened?’
‘It’s Cabbage,’ she said, her words barely audible above her wracking sobs. ‘She’s been abducted.’
Chapter Fifteen
Riley swallowed, taking a second to quell his own panic. He was vaguely conscious of Peterson still standing in the doorway, looking concerned. Sergeant Barton was at his shoulder.
‘Calm down, Amelia, and tell me everything that happened.’ Riley guided her to the chair that Salter had just vacated. Instead of retreating behind his desk, he sat in the seat beside her, took her hand and gave her fingers a reassuring squeeze. ‘Cabbage was going to spend the afternoon with you, I recall. Was her harp playing so bad that you had to escape the house?’
Riley’s efforts to lighten the mood fell flat, mostly because he was racked with worry himself and his words lacked a degree of credibility.
‘We played for an hour, and she really wasn’t that bad. But it was such a lovely afternoon, fresher than of late, and Sophia expressed a desire to see Holland Park.’ Amelia’s smile was fleeting. ‘She claims your mother and aunt only ever took her to Hyde Park.’
‘And you can walk to Holland Park from your house.’
‘Yes. She had been reading about the park and wanted to see the house, the waterfall and…well, you know Sophia. Everything interested her.’
‘I imagine you became separated somehow and that Sophia is lost, not abducted.’
‘No, Riley, you don’t understand.’ Amelia became agitated again. ‘I stopped briefly to pass the time of day with acquaintances. Sophia was busy examining the famous dahlias.’ Riley smiled, aware that at the turn of the century the then Lady Holland had been the first person to successfully grow dahlias in England. Sophia, an avid reader, would be aware of that and would want to inspect the results for herself. ‘When I looked up again, she was nowhere to be seen. I didn’t panic at first, thinking she couldn’t have gone far. But when I failed to find her after ten minutes of searching, I really did begin to worry. I asked everyone I saw, and finally found someone who had seen her, with a gentleman. He had her arm and she was talking away as though she knew him.’
‘Perhaps she did,’ Riley said, a sinking feeling rocking his body.
‘She did,’ Amelia said, fresh tears brewing. ‘I know because someone else claimed to have seen them and knew the identity of the man. You introduced them at Lady Bilton’s.’
‘Terrance Ashton,’ Riley said in a chilling tone. ‘I should have anticipated something of this nature.’
‘What can we do to help, sir?’
Riley’s bout of self-recrimination was interrupted by the sound of Sergeant Barton’s calm voice. The door to his office was now wide open and every policeman on duty, detectives and uniformed alike, was crowded at the doorway, all ready to help in the search for Cabbage. Differences and resentments, it seemed, had been put aside. A lost child trumped petty disagreements, especially when that child was related to one of their own. Riley threw the sergeant a grateful look and held up a hand, asking for patience. It would be pointless to run off in a dozen different directions, chasing their tails. Better to get all the information from Amelia first and then devise a plan of action.
‘How long ago did this happen?’
‘Half an hour. No more than that. It just seems like an eternity.’
‘Which direction did Ashton take her in? Are they still in the park?’
‘No, I don’t think so. I have all my servants looking, and Jute too, but Ashton, if it was him, was seen leaving the park with a young woman wearing yellow.’
Yellow. The colour of sunshine. The colour that Riley would always associate with his spirited niece. A girl whose optimistic nature and love of life brought sunshine into a room with her, even on the darkest winter day.
‘Jute?’ Riley’s head shot up. ‘Mrs Ferguson’s footman?’
‘Yes. I saw him in the park. He told me he had awarded himself an afternoon off. Mrs Ferguson granted her other servants permission to visit their families whilst she is away, leaving Jute alone to look after the house.’
Riley frowned, wondering if Jute’s presence at such a vital time was a coincidence. How had Ashton known that Sophia would be in Holland Park, without male protection, that afternoon, unless someone had seen her and alerted him? To a man with a grudge to bear, a deranged and despairing man who had nothing left to lose, the opportunity to gain revenge upon Riley by striking at his heart would seem too good to pass up. Damn it, he shouldn’t have danced with Cabbage and shown society just how much he cared for her. Riley liked and trusted Jute and didn’t want to think that he was involved—but he also didn’t believe in coincidences.
‘He saw I was distressed and asked me why,’ Amelia said, recalling Riley’s attention. ‘I told him and he joined the search immediately, as did a constable I saw patrolling the area. When I told him that Sophia was your niece and I was coming to inform you of her abduction myself, he quickly took control of the search and has the park attendants involved, too.’
‘You needn’t have come,’ Riley said softly. �
��The constable would have got word to me.’
‘I didn’t want you to hear it from anyone else.’ Fresh tears glistened on Amelia’s lashes. She swallowed several times and managed to retain her composure. ‘This is all my fault. I should have taken better care of her.’
‘This is not your fault. If anyone is to blame it’s me. I should have arrested Ashton when I had the chance,’ he added, almost to himself. ‘Right, Sergeant Barton.’
‘Sir?’
‘Send four men round to Ashton House and have them search it from the attics to the cellars. Be as noisy as you like. Break things. She won’t be there, but it’s better to leave no stone unturned. Besides, I am tired of Lord Ashton directing this operation. His son has made this personal. Send six more, if you can spare them, to Ashton Investments in the City. Take command of that search, Salter. Same rules. Be as public and disruptive as possible, and don’t let Lord Ashton intimidate you if he’s there.’
‘It’ll be a pleasure, sir,’ Salter replied with relish.
‘Anyone else you can spare, Barton, should come with me to Holland Park.’
‘No one will want to go off duty until the lass if found, sir, so you won’t want for help.’
The grizzled old sergeant and Riley exchanged a look of understanding. Cabbage’s abduction had bridged a divide. The rest of the uniformed men took their lead from Barton and Riley knew that he had finally been accepted. But he would gladly return to the uncomfortable status quo if Cabbage could remain safe and unharmed.
‘Thank you, Barton.’ Riley turned to Amelia. ‘Wait here,’ he said.
‘No, I’m coming with you.’ She stood, a look of firm determination on her face. ‘I can’t wait about and do nothing. Please don’t ask it of me. Anyway, if we find her she’ll need some comforting.’
‘How did Cabbage get to your house?’
‘She’s staying with your sister at the moment. Your mother is spending a few days with a friend in the country.’
‘Thank goodness for that,’ Riley said.
‘Martha dropped her off and went on to make some calls. She is returning for her in…oh, God, less than an hour’s time.’
‘Come along then. I’ll take you home and, with your permission, we can use your house as a command centre.’
‘Of course.’
Riley and Amelia made the journey in a cab. Riley promised the driver double fare if he covered the distance as fast as possible. They were followed by six uniformed constables and two of Riley’s detectives in a police wagon more commonly used to transport prisoners. Riley held Amelia’s hand for the duration of the journey in a wordless gesture of reciprocal comfort.
When the hansom pulled up outside Amelia’s home, there was no sign of life. Any lingering hope that Sophia had simply wandered off and found her own way back was dashed. Riley saw Amelia inside and forced a measure of brandy on her. A little colour returned to her face, along with a look of firm resolve.
‘Go ahead,’ she said. ‘I’ll stay in case she returns. I shall be perfectly all right now that you are here. Besides, your men await your orders,’ she added, nodding towards the window and the wagon which had just pulled up in the street.
‘I will leave a constable at the door, just in case,’ he said.
Amelia widened her eyes. ‘You cannot think that I am in danger, surely?’
‘I am not prepared to take that chance…any chance…with your safety,’ he said softly. ‘Terrance Ashton is cornered. He knows he is on the point of being arrested for Susan’s murder. I should have taken him into custody this morning, but afforded him the opportunity to turn himself in. Things would have been easier for him if he had, but it was a weakness on my part. A miscalculation.’ Riley vented his frustration by punching his right fist into his open left hand. ‘I knew he was desperate, but I thought I could control him.’ He gave a huff of self-disgust. ‘Now I am paying a heavy price for my arrogance.’
He touched Amelia’s face and went outside to direct the waiting officers.
‘Stay with me, Peterson,’ he said to the man he had grown to trust and whose integrity was beginning to impress him.
‘Yes, sir,’ Peterson replied, as the other officers rushed towards the park. The two detectives went from door to door, asking residents if they had seen a young woman in a yellow gown and bright straw bonnet being manhandled by a gentleman.
‘What are we to do, sir?’ Peterson asked.
‘Why was Ashton in this area, do you suppose?’ Riley asked as panic subsided and rational contemplation took its place. ‘In abducting my niece, it’s clear that he wants to revenge himself upon me, but he cannot have known that she would be in Holland Park this afternoon. So what else would bring him to the area?’
‘Miss Ferguson lived here,’ Peterson said without hesitation. ‘And we know he loved her.’
‘That’s it.’ Riley acknowledged the young man’s quick thinking with an inclination of his head. ‘Well done, Peterson. He probably felt close to her here. He knew Holland Park was a favourite haunt of hers because she could walk to it. She didn’t make any secret of that fact. It was where she used to meet young Grant. Perhaps she walked in it with Ashton, too. Anyway, it must be where he went after I’d shaken him up this morning. Then he saw Mrs Cosgrove with my niece. It must have seemed like manna from heaven to a deranged mind, and he took Sophia without thinking about the consequences.’ Riley shrugged. ‘To a man with nothing left to lose there are no consequences.’
‘If you ask me, sir, he’s dicked in the nob.’
‘Very likely. The question is, Peterson, where would he go? Where would he take her? I doubt he’s still in the park. Dozens of people are searching it and he would have been found by now if he was.’ The approached Mrs Ferguson’s house and Riley snapped his fingers. ‘Of course! I am incredibly dense.’
Looking perplexed, Peterson dutifully followed Riley up to the house, which was locked up. They walked round the side of it but there were no broken windows or signs of forced entry.
‘Mrs Ferguson has gone away for a week or so,’ Riley explained. ‘Only Jute remains to care for the house, and he is at the park, helping with the search.’
‘You imagine Ashton might have taken Lady Sophia to Miss Ferguson’s room?’
‘The thought crossed my mind.’ Riley suppressed a shudder at that unpalatable possibility. He reached the back of the house, feeling frustrated. He had been so sure. Then he glanced at the summerhouse and realisation dawned.
‘This way,’ he said, striding down the garden path and then stopping so abruptly that Peterson cannoned into him.
Terrance Ashton sat on the veranda of the summerhouse with Sophia beside him. He held a pistol in his hand and waved it about as he ranted and raved, seemingly oblivious to Riley’s presence.
Chapter Sixteen
‘Yes, I can quite see how frustrating that must be for you.’ Riley was astounded when Sophia calmly responded to Ashton, not seeming the slightest bit concerned about the pistol that could discharge, intentionally or otherwise, at any moment. ‘I am perfectly sure that my uncle doesn’t suppose that you murdered poor Emily,’ she added. ‘He is not stupid, you know, and must realise that you loved her very much.’
‘My father refused me his permission to marry her, but I simply didn’t care. If she had agreed to take me I would have lived in the hedgerows, done something…’ Another wild arc of the hand holding the gun made Riley’s heart leap into his mouth. He had never felt so powerless, so utterly helpless, in his entire life. He would change places with Cabbage in a heartbeat, but hesitated to step forward for fear of spooking the unstable man into panicking. He was too preoccupied with his own misery to have noticed Riley yet. If Riley made any sudden moves, the nearest person to him was his beloved niece and she would suffer the possibly fatal consequences of Ashton’s temporary madness. He simply couldn’t take the chance. ‘I would have found a way to give her the life she deserved.’
He heard the quiver in Sophia’s voice, belying her supposed calm. Furious that Ashton had presumed to capture and then frighten the life out of her, Riley reached a decision. This volatile situation had to be brought to an end before his precious girl paid the ultimate price.
Somehow.
Thus resolved, Riley stepped from the shelter of the shrubs that he had concealed himself behind, into a position where Sophia would see him when she tore her gaze away from Ashton’s profile. He felt proud that she instinctively knew to make Ashton the focus of her attention—to flatter, sympathise and agree with every word he said. Riley found himself wanting to smile in a situation that most decidedly lacked any trace of humour. Knowing Cabbage as he did, she was probably fighting the urge to tell Terrance to pull himself together. Where was his self-respect, she would demand to know? Why would he want a woman who didn’t return his regard? Fortunately, for once, she had the sense to hold her tongue.
Terrance, Riley suspected, had been cowed by his father for too long, his opinion undervalued as he consistently failed to live up to the senior Ashton’s expectations. In refusing to grant his son permission to marry Emily, all the suppressed resentments had boiled to the surface. Terrance had finally cracked, and Sophia would pay a terrible price for the young man’s rebellion if Riley didn’t act quickly.
He trusted to luck that Ashton was too self-absorbed, now that he was finally able to vent frustrations that had probably been building for years, to take much interest in his surroundings. The possibility of capture had either not occurred to him or he no longer cared. Even so, that pistol…It was a calculated risk and Riley, normally calm in the face of a crisis, felt his heart tripping along at twice its regular rate as he listened to Ashton pouring out a litany of complaints that only required the occasional word in response from his brave Sophia.
Come on, Cabbage. Look this way.
As though sensing his thoughts, Sophia lifted her head, her eyes widening slightly when she noticed Riley. He put a finger to his lips and tipped his head sideways, in the direction that Peterson had just taken at Riley’s command. The young policeman was now at the side of the veranda, mere feet away from Sophia. Almost close enough to reach out and pull her to safety.
Death of a Debutante (Riley Rochester Investigates Book 1) Page 27