‘And then Celeste met you,’ Riley said. ‘Which probably seemed like providence.’
Clement nodded. ‘I am my father’s son in many respects, and unlike Ray I don’t judge people by what circumstances have forced them to become. I encountered Celeste by happy accident when I was in Chichester talking to potential customers. We literally bumped into one another as she left a shop that I was about to enter. I helped her to collect her scattered possessions and…well, things developed from that point. I felt an immediate connection to her and she told me later that she had sensed it too. Given her profession and how cynical she had become with regard to men in general, that meant a great deal to me. We arranged to meet again, talked for hours and I eventually persuaded her to give up her life in Chichester and return to London as my wife.’
‘You are a fortunate man,’ Riley said, meaning it.
‘Thank you.’ Clement allowed himself a small smile. ‘I am well aware of that. I promised Celeste that we would not need to keep our secret for long. I plan to move to France, you see. As well as selling wine I have a desire to grow the grapes and actually produce it. The purpose of my latest visit was to negotiate terms for a property I have in mind. Ray will not trouble us once we are there since he won’t know where to find us. I shall make sure of that. Besides, leaving England on a quest for revenge wouldn’t occur to him.’
‘And Adelaide?’ Riley prompted.
‘Celeste told me about her not long after we met, and when she returned to London she arranged for us to meet. By that point Adelaide was convinced that she was being watched. Sure enough, not long after that, the uncle she so despised cornered her on the street. He told her he knew what she had become, that he had always known that was all she would be good for, and that the price of his silence would be her cooperation.’
‘Whom would he tell?’ Riley asked.
‘He threatened to go to her father, but Adelaide laughed in his face and told him to go ahead. Then she turned the tables and threatened him.’
‘How?’ Riley and Salter asked together.
‘It seemed that she knew more about her dear uncle’s private parts than would have been possible had he not tried to take advantage of her.’ Clement shifted his position and sighed. ‘Suffice it to say that he exposed himself to her and she noticed certain distinguishing features. She reminded him of that fact and he flew into a rage. She said that if they hadn’t been in a public place, she was sure he would have strangled her then and there.’
Riley and Salter shared a significant look.
‘Because she still had the power to destroy his reputation, such as it is,’ Riley said, leaning forward. ‘A very compelling motive for murder, wouldn’t you say, sergeant.’
‘Indeed I would, sir.’
‘Anyway, Adelaide had saved almost every penny she earned since moving to London and had a tidy sum put aside. She offered to go in with me to help destroy her father’s business. She had an excellent memory and knew whom he supplied. Her financial backing would have made it possible for me to purchase in bulk and undercut her father’s prices. She didn’t mind not making a profit. She simply wanted revenge.’
‘But she died before you could put your plan into effect?’
‘Sadly, yes. I shall still be able to purchase my vineyard but I won’t also be able to continue with my business in this country, which I had been relying upon to finance my new venture.’ He sighed. ‘But still, all that really matters is getting away from Ray and keeping Celeste safe.’
‘Could word of your intentions have somehow reached Huxton’s ears? The uncle or the father? What I’m asking you, I suppose, is whether anyone else was a party to your plans.’
‘Only my assistant in my premises in Dover Street is aware of them. He is of French parentage and is the one who told me about the vineyard in the first place. I trust him implicitly.’
And, Riley thought, he had no obvious reason to kill Adelaide.
‘But if you had started sounding out some of Huxton’s existing customers, anyone might have spoken out,’ Salter said.
‘True.’ Clement spread his hands and shuddered. ‘God forbid that I inadvertently caused Adelaide’s murder. I should find it hard to live with myself if that proves to be the case.’
‘Which it has not. Not by any stretch of the imagination. And speaking of imaginations, can you think of any reason why Ray would have been drunkenly proclaiming that the world was better off without Adelaide in it?’
‘Ah yes, perhaps. He found us in close conversation one day in the back room of my shop.’
‘Did he overhear what you were discussing?’
‘Lud, I hope not! If he did I…Anyway, I can only assume he followed her, or recognised her for what she was. That would be enough to set him off into one of his rages.’
‘He didn’t ask you about her?’
‘No, I was called to attend a customer, and he was gone by the time I finished with him. But,’ he added pensively, ‘oddly, he never raised the subject again. Funny that.’
‘You supply the wine to Mrs Sinclair’s establishment, I believe.’
Clement clapped a hand over his mouth and his face turned deathly pale.
‘What is it?’ Riley asked, sitting forward.
‘I do supply the wine,’ he said slowly, ‘but it is Ray who delivers it.’
‘He does deliveries for you?’ Riley asked. ‘You did not say.’
‘It didn’t seem relevant. I allow him to do them because it makes him feel involved and it’s something that he can’t easily make a mull of.’
‘Ah,’ Riley said. ‘So he might well have seen Adelaide there, even before he saw her speaking with you.’
‘It’s entirely possible.’
‘And he would know the lie of the land in that house,’ Salter added. ‘Presumably he took the wine in through that side door which Tennyson keeps locked, but would be familiar with the kitchens as well.’
Clement scrubbed his hands down his face. ‘Possibly,’ he conceded. ‘Even so, despite his famous temper, I don’t like to think that Ray would go that far.’
‘We shall talk to him again, a little more assertively on this occasion,’ Riley said.
‘Have a care, inspector. Ray and that temper of his.’
Riley thought that Clement was contradicting himself—one moment expressing his doubts about his step-sibling being capable of murder, the next warning them that he was dangerous. ‘I doubt whether even he would be foolish enough to try anything with us.’
‘Let’s hope not.’
Riley stood and extended his hand. ‘Thank you for your frankness, Mr Clement. You have been very helpful. Rest assured that we will be in touch again at the earliest opportunity, hopefully with good news.’
‘Well,’ Riley said as they made their way back to his office. ‘What did you make of that?’
‘I’d say he spoke the truth, sir. We now know that Adelaide’s uncle didn’t tell us everything and that he had a compelling reason to silence his niece permanently.’
‘And is the sort who would know how to access a brothel by the back door, I shouldn’t wonder.’ Riley threw himself into the chair behind his desk. ‘We now have suspects lining up. The uncle comes top of the list. But there’s Ray Clement too. He has a temper and resented Adelaide’s involvement in the life of a brother whom he looked up to and probably wanted to protect from her feminine wiles. He felt threatened by her as well and, given that he regularly delivered his brother’s wine to the brothel, he would know his way around it.’ Riley leaned his head back and closed his eyes. ‘Of course, there are also the other girls employed by Mrs Sinclair to take into consideration. I wouldn’t put murder past any of them, especially Mirabelle, who makes no effort to hide her jealousy of Adelaide. Adelaide was more popular than her and probably earned more. Now Adelaide is gone and Mirabelle is top dog. That is more than reason enough to kill her, and she wouldn’t have to break in to carry
out the deed. How someone got into the house and persuaded Adelaide to meet him or her in the room where she plied her trade has been bothering me.’
‘There’s also the aunt,’ Salter reminded him. ‘I really want it to be her. And also Grant, who proposed to Adelaide twice and was rejected twice. His hurt feelings cannot be overlooked.’ Salter sighed. ‘Out problem is that we have an abundance of suspects and not a shred of evidence to tie any one of them to the crime.’
‘Then we’d best stir the pot a little, and see what demons we can agitate.’
‘How we gonna do that, sir?’
‘I wonder what happens to Adelaide’s money,’ Riley mused, opening his eyes again and staring directly at Salter. ‘Clement told us she’d amassed a goodly sum. Where is it? Did she make a will, and if so who benefits from her death?’
‘Perhaps Mrs Sinclair will know if a particular solicitor took care of the girls’ interests.’
‘We shall have someone ask her.’ Riley looked up when someone knocked at the door. ‘Come in. Ah, Carter, there you are. How have you and Soames fared with the task I set you?’
‘Inconclusively, sir.’
‘When is anything ever conclusive in our line of work?’ Salter asked no one in particular.
‘We’ve spoken to the clerk who keeps the books at Huxton’s warehouse. He showed us the receipts that Derek Huxton produced to support his trip to France. He entertained lavishly and travelled first class.’
‘What’s inconclusive about that?’ Salter growled. ‘Unfortunately it confirms that he was where he said he was.’
‘But for the fact that the boat train he caught to return to London from Dover left the port at first light. He was probably hoping that we wouldn’t look that closely at his ticket stub because it confirms that he was back in the city by late morning, sir.’
‘Was he indeed!’ Salter turned gleaming eyes upon Riley. ‘And yet he tells us he only reached Ware at ten that evening. Where was he for all the rest of the time?’
‘We shall ask him in due time,’ Riley replied. ‘But I dare say he will have an explanation. Besides, if his sister supports his alibi, which she undoubtedly will, we are no further forward. But still, it’s the first real breakthrough we have achieved thus far and certainly focuses suspicion on Derek Huxton.’
‘Would you like me to bring him in, sir?’ Salter asked, rubbing his hands in anticipation.
‘Not immediately,’ Riley replied, stroking his chin. ‘He’ll keep. I can’t help thinking that we’re missing something. Just because we want the uncle to be guilty, doesn’t mean that he necessarily is. Go and see Mrs Sinclair, Carter, and ask her if a particular solicitor looked after all the girls’ legal requirements. I still want to know if anyone benefits directly from Adelaide’s death.’
Carter nodded and left the room.
‘Let’s carrying on delving into backgrounds for the rest of the day, Jack. I want to know everything there is to know about the girls who work in that house, including the servants.’ He paused. ‘Especially them.’
Salter nodded briskly and left the room, shouting orders to the detectives waiting to do his bidding.
Chapter Thirteen
By the end of the day little progress had been made and Riley’s frustration had increased exponentially. Carter returned from Maiden Lane to report that Mrs Sinclair knew nothing about Adelaide’s legal affairs or any money she might have. Salter’s investigation into the girls’ backgrounds proved equally disappointing. They had all run away from something or someone and were grudging with the information that they gave out. Given that there was no reason to accuse any of them of committing the crime, Riley refused Salter permission to bring pressure to bear.
‘Don’t look so downhearted, Jack,’ Riley said when his sergeant returned to report his lack of progress. ‘I didn’t really expect anything else but we needed to go through the motions.’
‘Even so, them girls didn’t ought to be so disrespectful.’ He sniffed. ‘The things they said to me. The suggestions they made. They shouldn’t be knowing about any of that stuff.’
Riley expressed his sympathy, still surprised at the puritanical streak in his usually dogmatic sergeant. He sent Salter home early and then discussed with the superintendent the possibility of hauling Derek Huxton in.
‘We need to grill him about his meeting with Adelaide, his threatening behaviour and her knowledge of his anatomical anomalies.’
‘He’ll lie his head off and you have nothing to come back at him with,’ Thompson said. ‘I agree that his getting his return time confused looks bad, but he will come up with a plausible explanation for that. Besides, if he was at home in Ware when he said he was then he can’t have been in London killing the girl.’
Riley nodded gloomily, aware that the spiteful sister would back up Huxton’s account.
‘Find Adelaide’s money, that’s my advice,’ Thompson said. ‘Money’s usually at the root of these crimes.’
‘Not this one,’ Riley replied forcefully. ‘This one’s a case of jealousy or revenge. I’m absolutely sure of it.’
‘If you say so, but the problem is you’ll have to prove it.’
‘Hmm.’
‘Has Danforth been in touch?’
‘I have not seen him, sir.’
It wasn’t exactly a lie. Thompson gave him a hard look and the benefit of the doubt. ‘Keep it that way, Rochester. I don’t want him taking you down with him.’ He sighed. ‘Get off home and come at this fresh tomorrow.’
‘Good advice, sir.’ Riley stood. ‘Good night.’
‘Night, Rochester.’
But Riley didn’t go home. Instead he made his way to the mansion in Grosvenor Square owned by Jake Morton, the Earl of Torbay. He was admitted by Parker, who served in a similar role to Stout, except on a much grander scale. Tough, uncompromising and loyal to a fault, Parker was getting on in years now, but the passage of time didn’t seem to have slowed him down.
‘Lord Riley!’ Parker opened the door wide and stepped back to allow Riley into the grand vestibule with its chequered marble floor and magnificent sweeping staircase. ‘His lordship will be pleased to see you. He was just now lamenting the fact that he’s getting old and no one seems to need his services anymore. Mind you, his countess soon puts him right. We can neither of us stand it when his boredom turns morbid.’
Riley laughed as he handed Parker his coat and hat. ‘I find it hard to imagine Lord Torbay feeling sorry for himself.’
‘Well, we ain’t none of us as young as we used to be.’
‘Would we want to be?’ Riley shuddered as he again recalled the events that had first seen him admitted to this house as an awkward teenager more than twenty years previously. ‘Anyway, how are you keeping?’
‘Mustn’t complain, my lord. No one listens even if I do. Come this way. They’re in the drawing room. No need to announce you. You’re always welcome.’
Parker opened the doors. Jake and Olivia were in close conversation but looked up and smiled simultaneously at Riley.
‘Just the very person we need to stop us from killing one another,’ Olivia said, jumping to her feet and meeting Riley half way across the room. Riley took her hand and kissed the back of it.
‘Lovely as ever, Olivia,’ he said.
‘Put her down, Riley, she’s mine.’
Jake stood and shook Riley’s hand warmly. Riley took a moment to study the man he had always admired and attempted to emulate. Now in his mid-fifties, he retained an upright bearing and his body had not given way to fat. His black hair was heavily threaded with grey and the lines on his face appeared deeper, giving him a more rugged appearance.
‘Some men have all the luck.’
‘Sit down, Riley,’ Olivia said. ‘Will you take tea?’
‘I imagine Riley has just finished a long day’s work and would appreciate something a little stronger.’
‘That he would.’
Ja
ke poured whiskey for them both, while Parker went off to organise tea for Olivia.
‘It was a nasty business with Ashton,’ Jake said, referring to the murder in the aristocrat’s house that Riley had solved in the summer. ‘Can’t have been easy for you.’
‘There was a lot of pressure brought to bear to sweep matters under the nearest Turkish rug,’ Riley conceded. ‘I was damned if I did and damned if I didn’t. So in the end I decided to get to the truth and let the pieces fall where they may.’
‘I heard Ashton’s son is to be committed to an asylum,’ Olivia said. ‘I’m not sure if that’s better or worse than hanging.’
‘Worse, I would imagine,’ Jake said, not sounding the least bit sympathetic.
‘You were lucky to be away from London and out of it all. It wasn’t pleasant.’
‘Can’t say I’m sorry to see Ashton’s fall from grace,’ Jake said. ‘Personally, I couldn’t abide the man.’
‘You’re not alone,’ Riley replied. ‘You should hear my mother on the subject.’
‘I can well imagine,’ Olivia said, smiling. ‘How is she?’
‘As healthy as a horse and just as stubborn.’
‘Your niece is in London with her, I gather. I met her yesterday and was charmed by her unaffected character.’
‘Cabbage?’
Death of a Courtesan: Riley Rochester Investigates Page 20