by Emily Organ
I shrugged, unsure how to answer him.
James sighed. “Those were some strong words from a man who may have committed the crime himself. There’s something about him I don’t like.”
“You think he’d murder his own daughter?” I asked.
“It would be a cruel act. But I don’t believe it’s beyond him,” replied James.
“You’re only saying that because you have never liked him. But shouldn’t you forget about your personal thoughts and consider him objectively?” I said.
“Yes, that’s what we detectives are supposed to do. But what if a detective has a hunch?”
“Are hunches usually correct?” I asked.
“I think they are,” Inspector Trotter interjected.
“For once I agree with Trotter,” said James. “Hunches may be unscientific, but they can’t be ignored.”
“Well, I have a hunch that Mr Glenville isn’t the culprit, so where does that leave us?” I retorted.
“We’re the detectives, Miss Green,” lisped Inspector Trotter.
“So your hunches are worthier than mine?” I asked.
“In a case such as this, I think they have to be,” replied the inspector. “Now, isn’t the housekeeper supposed to be bringing us more coffee?”
Their comments made me feel even more determined to prove that someone other than Mr Glenville was behind Sophia’s death.
James looked up at the portrait of the two children and grimaced. “That pair frightens me. Who are they?”
“I’ve no idea,” I replied. “But I call them the ghost twins.”
“That’s a fair description,” said James.
“Let’s get on with the interviews, shall we?” suggested Inspector Trotter.
“Yes, let’s,” replied James. “Are you ready, Penny?”
I sat myself at the table with a pen, pot of ink and James’ notebook.
“I think so.”
“We need you to do more than just write,” said James. “You were there when Miss Sophia died. While these people are talking, please consider how well their testimony matches up with your own recollections of the evening. Make a note of anything which doesn’t seem right to you.”
“I will do. And I’ve been thinking about Betsy. You could speak to her brother, you know. I interviewed him shortly after her death. If you can find a copy of the Morning Express from the fifth of March, you will see the article there. I can’t quite remember his name. He’s a dark-skinned man.”
“Thank you, Penny, that’s a good idea,” replied James. “Battersea, isn’t it?”
“Yes. Gonsalva Road, I remember that. It’s close to Wandsworth Road Station.”
“I know the area well. It’s not far from where my grandfather lived. Right, we’ll get Master Dudley Lombard in first, shall we, Trotter?”
Inspector Trotter nodded.
“I should warn you that Master Lombard was rather emotional just now,” I said.
“Thank you, Penny,” said James. “Extreme displays of emotion can sometimes be used to cover up a person’s true feelings, so we’ll keep a close eye on this one.”
Dudley Lombard sat in his chair looking desperately sorry for himself.
“She was as pretty as a picture that evening,” he mumbled, fidgeting with his fingers. “She looked beautiful in her birthday gown. She only wanted a small celebration; that was Sophia for you. She didn’t like a fuss. That was why we only had a small gathering. The dinner was very agreeable. And after that... I can’t bring myself to even think about it.”
“Did you see anyone else pick up Sophia’s glass or put anything in it?” asked James.
“I cannot bear to think about it.”
“I understand your distress, Master Lombard, but can you please bring yourself to think about it? You may have seen something which proves important in our investigation,” James coaxed.
“I cannot bring myself to take my mind back to that terrible evening, sir!”
“Please Mr Lombard, for your fiancée’s sake. She deserves justice. We need to find out who did this to her,” said James.
Dudley Lombard scratched his neck.
“Very well,” he replied. “No, I didn’t see anyone else near her glass. I imagine the butler perhaps topped up her glass with champagne. That must have been done at some point during the evening. But I didn’t see anyone doing anything suspicious. There. That is all I can bring myself to think about regarding the whole unfortunate incident.”
“Three days before her death, Miss Sophia was seen returning to the house late one evening,” said Inspector Trotter. “Were you with her on the evening of Wednesday the twenty-sixth of March?”
Dudley’s droopy, red eyes widened. “She went out? Where?”
“That is what we’re trying to find out, Mr Lombard,” the inspector added.
“But she must have told someone where she was going, surely?”
“It appears that she didn’t.”
“But that’s ridiculous! She wouldn’t have been allowed out if she’d refused to tell anyone where she was going!”
“She left the house in secret, Master Lombard.”
“But why?”
“That is what we’re trying to establish. She didn’t leave the house to meet you that evening?”
“No, she didn’t. I think I was at the Garrick Club with Pa that evening. I didn’t see Miss Sophia at all.”
“Thank you, Master Lombard.”
“But why would she leave the house like that? What was she doing?”
“As I have already said, Master Lombard, that is what we are still trying to discover,” replied Inspector Trotter, losing patience with each response.
“You’ll let me know as soon as you do, won’t you?” said Dudley Lombard. “I cannot understand what the girl was up to.” He shook his head in dismay. “I wonder...”
“You wonder what, Master Lombard?”
“Nothing. It’s nothing. Just let me know what she was up to as soon as you find out. You don’t think it could be connected to her death, do you?”
“Your guess is as good as ours,” said James.
“Inspector, you have to find out who did this to her. She was to have been my wife!”
“Master Lombard, can I ask if you have ever harboured any affection for Miss Sophia’s sister, Miss Jane?” asked James.
Dudley’s face reddened. “No, of course not. What a ridiculous notion!”
“We have heard it reported that you propositioned her.”
“Who said that?”
“It doesn’t matter who said it, Master Lombard. Is it true?”
“Of course not! Why would I do such a thing? I loved Sophia! Marrying her would have made all my dreams come true!”
“Indeed,” said James. “In the meantime, can you please draw a quick plan of the drawing room and add notations to explain who sat where?”
James passed him a piece of paper and a pencil.
“I can’t remember that!”
“Please draw what you can remember, Master Lombard. Where did you sit?”
“By the window.”
“Can you please draw that for us?”
“I can’t remember where anyone else was.”
“Please try your best.”
Ralph Lombard was impatient and fidgety as he sat opposite the two inspectors.
“You’d like me to repeat everything I’ve already told you?” he asked Inspector Trotter.
“How long have you known the Glenville family?” asked James.
Ralph Lombard sighed with exasperation. “As I have already explained to your police colleague, I have known them both since Alexander and Camilla’s engagement. My family and Camilla’s have been close for a number of generations. I first met Alexander at their engagement party, and we got along from the very first moment we met. We’re men of enterprise, you see. Our journeys to this point have been quite different, but here we both are doing similar work, and we have the same interests.”
“Which interests are they?”
“As I say, Inspector, I’m a man of enterprise. I own a gin distillery in Vauxhall. I inherited it from my father, and my son Dudley will inherit it from me. He was to have run the place with Sophia...” He paused to wipe his forehead with his handkerchief. “She was a clever girl. A very clever girl. The two of them would have done a good job. I felt content knowing that the family business was to rest in their hands. The distillery and the vinegar factories; they would have been in charge of it all! It was the perfect match for both our families, and now... Well, now I have no idea what happens. Dudley will inherit my distillery regardless, but as for Blundell’s, that’s anyone’s guess. Glenville can’t possibly pass it on to the idiot boy. I suppose Jane will inherit it now, although they had plans for her to marry a baronet or similar. Alternatively, Glenville will have to consider one of the younger ones, and they’re too young to—”
“My apologies for interrupting, Mr Lombard, but time is not on our side,” said James. “I wish to discuss the events of the evening with you. Can you tell me what happened at the party?”
“We had a rather fine meal and everyone was in good spirits. In fact, there was not a cross word exchanged between Sophia and any of the guests. Had there been, my suspicions would fall upon the person with whom she had argued.”
As I wrote his words down I recalled Sophia’s sulky, disinterested face that evening.
“But there was no disagreement at all!” he continued. “Everyone was very pleasant, and it was a very enjoyable evening, until... I can’t bear to relive it, I’m afraid, Inspector. I daren’t recall the terrible memory for fear of it embedding itself deeply into my mind. That poor girl.”
“Did you witness anyone tampering with Miss Sophia’s champagne glass, Mr Lombard?”
“No one! I don’t understand it. Even if the girl had poisoned herself, someone surely would have witnessed her tipping the powder into her own glass.”
“How was your relationship with Miss Sophia, Mr Lombard?” asked James.
“She was my future daughter-in-law! Mrs Lombard and I only have one child, Inspector. She was to become the daughter I had never had.”
“You got along well with her, then?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Did you see anyone attempting to hide the empty packet of cyanide on the chair which was occupied by Viscount Wyndham and your wife during the course of the evening?” asked James.
“No, I didn’t; not a bit of it. It’s a very strange business, that. The murderer might have planted it there later that evening, perhaps even the following day. It wasn’t found until the next day, am I right?”
“You’re correct, sir,” said Inspector Trotter.
“There you go, you see. It could have been anyone. Even a member of the staff. Perhaps the maid who claims to have found it.”
I felt him glance over at me, but I didn’t lift my eyes from the page.
“This maid is your secretary now, is she, Inspectors?” He chuckled. “A woman of many talents, it seems. You do see my point about the packet of poison, though, don’t you? There’s no evidence that it was placed there at the time of Miss Sophia’s death.”
“However, it’s rather a coincidence, isn’t it Mr Lombard?” probed Inspector Trotter.
“Yes, which is why the murderer has presumably put it there intentionally. Any murderer worth his salt would never be so remiss as to hide it on his own chair, would he?”
“I don’t know, Mr Lombard. I must always keep an open mind,” said James. “Were you aware of Miss Sophia’s attempts to leave home without her parents’ permission? She ran away on one occasion, and on another she left the house secretly to meet with someone.”
Mr Lombard’s face darkened. “I wasn’t aware of this at all. What was the girl up to?”
“That’s what we’d like to find out.”
“Well, I thought Glenville had tighter reins on her than that. It’s not right that a young lady should go off as she pleases. A young lady, engaged to be married, out on her own. And in the evening, too, you say? How utterly shameful.” He shook his head. “Shameful. I hope you get to the bottom of it, Inspector. The girl could be a bit of a handful like that. Much as I was fond of her, I found myself wishing at times that she were more like her sister, Jane.”
James asked Mr Lombard to draw a plan of where everyone had been sitting that evening, and he obliged. Ralph Lombard also took great pains to reveal the fact that Viscount Wyndham had spent longer sitting on the chair upon which the cyanide packet had been found than Mary Lombard had.
Chapter 32
“Tipsy! Over here, my pretty! Leave the maid alone!”
Mary Lombard’s interview was interrupted on frequent occasions by her dog. She had refuted any suggestion that she should leave the animal out in the corridor.
“I won’t hear of it, Inspector! She would cry at the door terribly. She can’t bear to let me out of her sight.”
Mrs Lombard wore a black satin dress with a large gather of lace at her throat.
“Your husband tells us that you have known the Glenville family a long time,” said Inspector Trotter.
“Yes, I’ve known Camilla since we were debutantes, and I met Alexander when she became engaged to him. A surprising choice for her, really, but I suppose Camilla had always been rather limited in her options. She only had her family name to recommend her. There was very little money left in the family by the time she married him. She was just what Alexander was looking for. The marriage gave them both what they needed.”
“Can you give me your account of the evening, please, Mrs Lombard?” asked Inspector Trotter.
“Must I do so again?”
“If you would, please.”
“But why?”
“Inspector James Blakely of Scotland Yard would also like to hear your account.”
“Would he?” Mrs Lombard appeared rather flattered by this remark, and she recounted the entire evening as she remembered it, including the conversations that took place and what everyone had worn that night. As I wrote down her account, it seemed to be quite accurate.
“It was rather pleasant up until... well, I needn’t elaborate,” she said. “As I have told you before, Inspector Trotter, we should have married them sooner. This should never have happened if Dudley and Sophia had already been married.”
“Mrs Lombard,” said James. “Shortly before her death, Miss Sophia left this house late one evening, She did so of her own accord, and in secret. Have you any prior knowledge of this?”
“She left the house on her own? At night?” Her mouth hung open for a moment. “Why should I know anything about that? It seems most inappropriate to me. And dangerous. As I have said a number of times now, if she and Dudley had been already married it would never have happened. Quiet, Tipsy!”
The dog lay down at my feet.
“So you were not aware that Miss Sophia had left the house at night on that occasion, or on any other occasion?”
“No.”
James sighed and sat back in his chair. His expression suggested that he was losing his patience.
“It really is a puzzle,” he began. “For some time now we have been trying to understand why Miss Sophia might have left the house in that manner. Was she meeting someone? We’re inclined to think that she was. But whom? Your son says he has no knowledge of the evening excursion either. Can it really be that no one knew what her intention was?”
Mrs Lombard shrugged her shoulders.
“You were a young woman once, Mrs Lombard,” continued James. “What do you think a girl of almost eighteen is getting up to when she secretly leaves her home late in the evening?”
“I couldn’t possibly say. I never did such a thing myself!”
“She must surely have been meeting someone, mustn’t she? The question is, with whom was she meeting? As it was a secret rendezvous, I can only surmise that it was a person she wasn’t at liberty to see in public. Do
you think Miss Sophia was looking forward to marrying your son, Mrs Lombard?”
I clenched my teeth at the directness of the question.
“Of course she was! What nonsense are you suggesting here, Inspector?”
“I only ask because she confided to at least one person that she had no wish to marry him.”
“Ridiculous!” A piece of spittle flew out from Mrs Lombard’s mouth. “It was arranged many years ago that Miss Sophia and my son were to be married. They were both looking forward to their forthcoming nuptials. They were in love!”
“Were they really in love, Mrs Lombard?”
She glared at James, her violet eyes unblinking.
“Yes! They were sweethearts! There was never any question of them not marrying. I don’t know to whom Miss Sophia spouted this nonsense, but she never expressed any reluctance to anyone in my family or her own.”
“Can you be sure of that, Mrs Lombard?”
“What more can I say, Inspector? You’ve pushed this far enough. You must leave the topic well alone now. This can do nothing to help solve the mystery of the poor girl’s death.”
“This is pure speculation on my part, Mrs Lombard, but I think Miss Sophia may have gone to meet a gentleman when she left the house late that evening. That was why she was so secretive. She was terrified that someone might find out about it.”
Mrs Lombard remained silent.
“Is that theory nothing but wild speculation on my part, or do you suspect that there is an element of truth to it?” James asked.
“Mere speculation, I should say. It has nothing to do with the girl’s death. Can I leave now, Inspector?” She stood and picked Tipsy up.
“Very shortly, yes. I shall quickly finish expressing my thoughts first, however, if you don’t mind. I will have to speculate further, as I fear that I have not received honest answers from everyone I have spoken to so far—”
“How insulting!”
“Please do let me finish, Mrs Lombard, it won’t take much longer. We’re reaching the stage of the investigation at which speculation cannot get us any further. What we need now are some facts, and it’s enormously frustrating when the people we question withhold them. I’ve spoken to you, your husband and your son this morning, Mrs Lombard, and I feel certain that at least one of you has some information which you haven’t yet disclosed. In your minds it may not seem relevant to the murder inquiry, but Inspector Trotter and I should be the judge of that. So before you leave, Mrs Lombard, can I urge you to consider for one last time whether there is anything more you should tell us?”