by L. A. Nisula
“I can’t.”
I sighed. I hadn’t expected Randall to be a good source of information, but I had hoped for something. “So you weren’t there when it happened?”
“No, she refused to even let me bring her home after the police left.”
I was quite aware of that, as I had paid for her cab, but I suspected Randall somehow thought he had been responsible for getting her home safely. “Not surprising, really.”
“I was surprised.”
“You would be. If you weren’t there, how do you know she was arrested?”
“I went to her rooms this morning to explain to her about Miss Hayes. I kept knocking on her door, but no one answered. Then her neighbor came out and told me the police had been there early in the morning and took Milly away.”
Milly was taking two rooms in a boarding house near Covent Garden at the moment, and I had met her neighbors on a very few occasions. One worked in a milliner’s shop, the other a bakery. I assumed it was the baker’s assistant he’d spoken to from the timing, but both had seemed sensible enough to be believed. If they said the police had come for Milly, they probably had. “And they didn’t know anything else? Who it was who came? What they looked like?” I knew most of the constables Inspector Wainwright worked with regularly. I could probably recognize one of them from a description.
“I don’t know. I didn’t stop to ask. I ran off immediately to find her help.”
“So you didn’t get any information I can work with.” I steered us back towards the entrance to the gardens. “I’ll go down to Scotland Yard and see what I can do about getting her released.”
“Thank you, Miss Pengear. Thank you. You have to get her out. No one understands me like she does.”
“I thought that was Miss Hayes.”
Randall gave me a blank look. Clearly he had no idea what I was referring to. I turned to leave.
“And when you see her, you will tell her I’m desperate to help her.”
But not desperate enough to go to Scotland Yard himself. “If you’d like to be the one to go talk to Inspector Wainwright....”
“Oh no. You’ll be so much better at it, I’m sure. But you will tell her I’m pining for her, right?”
“I’m going to see what I can do to get her out of prison. Your declarations of undying love are your business, not mine.”
He grabbed my arm. “But you will tell her I was the one who came to get you, won’t you?”
I pulled my arm away. A nurse with her two charges paused to see if I needed help with Randall. I smiled at her to let her know I could manage him and so he would notice her. “Good day, Randall.”
He moved to follow me but didn’t touch my arm. “You’ll tell her to let me know when she’s home?”
“I’m sure she’ll let you know if she wants to see you.”
“But you’ll....”
But I had already reached the gate. I left Randall standing on the path and set out for Scotland Yard.
~*~*~
When I got to Scotland Yard, it was to find a line to be admitted to the detective’s floor and another to visit prisoners. As no one had left my name at either desk, I had to stand in one or the other. I decided my best chance at helping Milly was to appeal to Inspector Wainwright—he might arrange to have her released simply to get rid of me—so I got in the proper line and waited, scanning the people coming in and out of the staff lift in case I saw someone I knew who would bring me up without waiting. I was in luck. I’d only been waiting for fifteen minutes when Constable Lipson came in. He frequently worked with Inspector Burrows, who was a friend. I waved.
He spotted me and came over. “Do I want to know, Miss Pengear?”
“Inspector Wainwright arrested my cousin.”
Constable Lipson almost rolled his eyes. “Then he must have known what he was getting into. It’ll probably be easier for him to get seeing you over with sooner rather than later, when there’s more work to be done. Come along.”
I followed him into the staff lift, where there was no line, and he had me waved through. We parted as soon as we reached the detective’s floor, Constable Lipson going in the opposite direction from Inspector Wainwright’s office. Before he turned the corner, he said, “I didn’t see you this morning.”
“Of course not. Say hello to Inspector Burrows for me.”
I knew the way to Inspector Wainwright’s office, so I didn’t need to bother anyone else. His door was closed and I could hear him moving around inside, but I didn’t hear any other voices, so it seemed safe enough to knock and enter without waiting for a reply.
Inspector Wainwright looked up when I entered, then quickly shoved what he was reading under the desk blotter. “Miss Pengear. Why do I think I know what this is about?”
As he didn’t stand or offer me a chair, I sat in the more comfortable of the two visitors' chairs across from his desk without being invited. “You arrested my cousin, so I would hope you knew what it was about.”
“What? Miss Pengear, I did not arrest your cousin.”
“Then why does Randall Fetherton think you did? Admittedly he’s a bit thick, but he had to have some reason to come get me.”
“I merely have her here for questioning.”
“Questioning?”
“She has been stepping out with Mr. Fetherton for six weeks now. She knows him, she knows what he has said of his family, and she was there when the body was found. Don’t worry, I will get to you eventually.”
“Well then, why aren’t you questioning her?”
“Constable Edwards is more than capable of getting the information we need.”
If he’d sent Constable Edwards to question Milly, then she really wasn’t a suspect. If he’d thought there had been any chance that she’d done it, he would have handled the questioning himself, no matter how capable Constable Edwards was. “I thought you had a suspect, Grelling, and neither of us would know about bookmakers.”
Inspector Wainwright sighed. “Do you really think a professional bookmaker would kill over an amount as small as £50? Especially when it’s barely a week overdue?” He began arranging his files on his desk, clearly ready for me to be gone. “And there’s always the question of what she was doing there.”
“Miss Hayes? Waiting for Randall, I suppose.” And then I caught on, “But why. He doesn’t live there. And how did she know he was going to pay a call last night?”
“Mmm.”
“And with Milly. The other woman. Or was Miss Hayes the other woman?” I sighed. “I suppose Randall’s the sort where we’ll have plenty more candidates to choose from.”
“For the other woman or suspects?”
So Inspector Wainwright did have a sense of humor. I sometimes wondered. “Both, no doubt.” As he was joking, I took it to mean he was in a better than normal mood, which meant the possibility of information. “Did you find anything from the curtain?”
“The curtain, Miss Pengear?” Clearly he didn’t know what I was talking about.
“Maybe it wasn’t a curtain, but that’s what it looked like to me. The piece of cloth that had the bloodstain on it.”
Inspector Wainwright furrowed his brow. “Describe it.”
“A piece of cloth, a couple yards long, peach with a floral pattern, fairly heavy cotton. I assumed it was a curtain from its size, but I don’t know that it was. There was a small spot of blood on it, more than a drop, but not a huge amount. It was on the floor behind the desk.”
“You’re certain you saw it after the body was found?”
“Yes. I wasn’t in the box room before the body was found. It was Milly screaming that brought me up there. And I remember thinking the body must have been hidden under it. Remember she was strangled, so she wouldn’t have bled very much either.”
Inspector Wainwright tapped his pen against the desk. “And you’re certain...”
“Positive.” I watched his reaction. “You mean it wasn’t there when you looked?”
He sho
ok his head. “I’ll ask Constable Declan if he saw it. Perhaps it was misplaced. I’ll look into it.”
No “thank you for bringing it to my attention,” but I hadn’t really expected that. “But that still doesn’t explain why Miss Hayes was there, or how she would have known Randall would be.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“Perhaps she called in the afternoon, and Nora told her he was coming. No, that can’t be it; Randall didn’t tell Mrs. Fetherton he was coming at all.”
“Miss Wilson wasn’t home in the afternoon anyway.”
I assumed that was Nora. “You already asked?” I leaned across the desk and glanced at his notes. The top one was his preliminary findings from the scene. “Killed sometime in the afternoon, you think? I suppose the body was cold and stiff when I saw it. So you were looking for alibis? Is that why you were questioning Milly?”
“Partly. Miss Wilson was out at the Delphie Tea Room, having tea.”
That was oddly specific for Inspector Wainwright. Usually, I had to drag information out of him. “Isn’t that near the Savoy?”
“It is, yes.”
“Rather posh place for a maid to be having tea.”
“That’s where she said she was.”
“‘Where she said, so you don’t know she was there.”
Inspector Wainwright sighed. “No, we haven’t confirmed her alibi yet. I’ve only had the case for fourteen hours and twenty-six minutes.”
“So the constable checking isn’t back yet.”
“It’s a bit more complicated than just checking a reservation book. She may well have been at the Delphie, but she gave the name Smythe, which they could very well have written out as Smith.”
“Why on earth would she give the name Smythe?”
“She said she thought it was romantic to use an assumed name. Like a criminal.”
“More like someone in a penny novelette. She actually said that to a policeman? Are you still trying to confirm it?”
Inspector Wainwright rolled his eyes. “Of course we are. I sent someone to get their receipt book, and we will track down every ‘Smith’ and ‘Smythe’ to try and find the one that’s her, if any of them are. If you really want to help, you could track down some of the Smiths who dined there that day.”
So that was it. An impossible task. He was hoping I would either see that and give up or poke around and help them chip away at the boring, rote work. He didn’t know me as well as he thought he did. “You lot are much better at that sort of thing than I am. I suppose I’ll go and wait for Milly. She isn’t used to being questioned by the police.”
Inspector Wainwright sighed, as if he’d known he wouldn’t succeed in distracting me but wanted to pretend he had. I didn’t say anything to ruin the illusion.
I waited for Milly in the main lobby of the detectives’ floor. I saw several constables I knew, but none who were likely to know anything useful on this case. I was hoping to see my friend Inspector Burrows, whom Inspector Wainwright might have spoken to about the case, but he seemed to be out investigating or perhaps having a day off. When Milly finally did come out of the interrogation room, she looked as annoyed as she would have had she been arrested. She spotted me at once and swept over.
“Can you believe it? Two hours in a police station because of that idiot Randall.”
“Well, let’s not spend any more. Come on, I’ll walk out with you.” I steered her towards the staircase. I didn’t relish the idea of waiting for the lift with her in a room full of detectives.
“I mean, really, that idiot had a bit on the side. Can you imagine? When he said that, I could have killed him.”
At least she’d waited until we were in the stairwell to say that. “You do realize we are still inside Scotland Yard, don’t you?”
“So? I would think that would help my case. Randall isn’t the one who’s dead, after all.”
“I don’t think it works that way. Not here.” I glanced up, but the door from the detectives’ floor remained closed. There were, however, two constables on the landing below. They were both staring at us. I hoped they knew it was Milly doing the threatening.
“Is there anyplace to eat around here? I’m starving after all that questioning.”
Good, the promise of food would get her out of here quickly before she said anything else ridiculous. “There’s a cafeteria down the street. Let’s hurry before all the good tables are gone.” I had no idea why the tables would be gone at this hour, but anything to get her outside before she started to complain murderously about Randall again.
Chapter 5
I SPENT ENOUGH TIME at Scotland Yard to be familiar with all of the places to eat lunch in the area, and the best for conversation was a cafeteria around the corner as the food was gathered and paid for before one sat down, so there were no waiters turning up at inopportune moments, and, as many Scotland Yard regulars knew, there was always a steady hum of hushed voices which served to obscure any one particular conversation. I led Milly over to the conveyor belts of plates and left her to choose what she wanted while I selected a plate of fish and chips and collected our silverware. Milly chose some sort of meat pie that I wouldn’t have trusted anywhere where I hadn’t seen it made, but I kept quiet and paid for our meals and tea, as Milly had forgotten to put her wallet in her handbag again.
As I’d paid, I decided I would be the one to choose our table, and I led the way to a small table in a noisy section of the dining room. There didn’t seem to be any policemen there, although it would be a good plan for them to send a couple of plainclothes men to listen in on diners’ conversations if someone came here after they’d left the Yard.
Milly started eating as soon as she sat down. I gave her a moment in case she really was hungry, then asked, “So you had no idea that Randall was seeing someone else?”
“No, he was too clever. I wouldn’t have stayed if I’d known.”
Somehow I doubted that, but I didn’t comment. “Did he say anything about her after I went for the police?”
“No, in fact, I didn’t realize he knew her until he confessed it to Inspector Wainwright, and then I was too angry to speak to him. You’d think he’d call to check on me after that ordeal.”
“He did,” I said before pausing to consider if it was best to stay quiet on the subject. But, as I’d already started, “He found out the police had come for you from one of your neighbors, although he told me you’d been arrested.”
“He probably doesn’t know the difference.”
On that we agreed, at least.
Milly went back to her pie. “You’re not going to abandon Randall, are you?”
I stabbed a few chips with my fork. “That is precisely what I am going to do.”
“But you can’t. He couldn’t figure anything out on his own.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“But you have to do something.”
“I don’t see why.”
“Cassie, he got my money sorted out for me. We have to do something to help him.”
Now that was something I wanted to know more about. “What exactly did he do?”
“I told you, he introduced me to the banker who got the money straightened out.”
“And why was this person able to do it when no one else you asked could?”
“Randall said he was an expert in international transactions.”
“At your bank?”
“No, in general.”
“Did he tell you which bank he’s affiliated with?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
It all seemed very mysterious to me. “And is the money actually in the account?”
“Well, the next payment isn’t due for a couple weeks yet. They pay quarterly.”
“I see.” Then I would reserve my judgment until then. “Maybe we should have a little talk with Randall.”
Milly went back to her food with enthusiasm. “I knew you wouldn’t let him be suspected of anything, even if he did lie a little.�
�
I poked at my chips and tried to figure out if we were supposed to be liking Randall at the moment or not. It was changing so often I could hardly keep up. “So how does Randall know this wonderful banker he has helping you?”
“He met him through his work, of course.”
“And that is?”
“He’s a bookkeeper.”
Judging by his ability to keep his lies and hidden paramours sorted out, I didn’t have much confidence in his skill at sorting out debits and credits. “And where is he employed?” I wanted to be certain to avoid them if at all possible.
“He takes jobs as they come, just like you.”
I had the feeling it wasn’t “just like me” at all, but I nodded as if I understood. “And he met this banker—what is his name by the way? I can’t keep calling him ‘the banker.’”
“Mr. Rhodes.”
“Then he met Mr. Rhodes through one of his assignments? Do you know which client?”
“Well, he only has the one.”
So, not at all like what I did. “So he works for this one client? Do you know the name?”
“Something boring and common like Walker and Smith. Or was it Watson and Smith? I don’t know.”
“Do you know what they do?”
“He never said.”
“And is he in an office somewhere? Every day?”
“Oh no, I said like you do. He does the work at his flat whenever they send him something.”
I was beginning to see the source of his money problems. “And is he on a retainer of some sort?” I could see she wasn’t sure what I meant, so I added, “Or does he only get paid when they have some work for him?”
“Cassie, please, can we not talk about this? It’s ruining my appetite. And I can’t concentrate on money when Randall or I could be arrested at any moment. You’ve got to help us.”
I picked at my chips. That didn’t tell me much about the money or Miss Hayes. But I did know how to make certain that was all she knew. “So Randall the Idiot was too clever for you to have any suspicion that something was wrong?”