The girl nodded and the two of them perched on the edge of a pair of battered and faded chairs.
‘First off,’ Woods said, ‘what can you remember about Sunday?’
‘Sunday?’ She thought for a moment. ‘I went with Lady Tyndall to church as usual, then we came home. She received no visitors that day, ate alone, then went to bed early.’
‘Did you sleep in the next room?’
‘No, I shared an attic room with one of the housemaids, Sarah.’
‘Would you know if she got up again later that night and went out?’
‘But she never goes out without her maid!’ Harriet looked quite scandalised at the suggestion.
‘As far as you can remember, did anythin’ unusual happen on Sunday? Either with Lady Tyndall or with any other member of the household?’
The girl wrung her hands in her apron again. ‘She were in a bad mood when we came back from church – and snapped at me . . .’ Her voice trailed away hopelessly.
‘But what you’re sayin’, treacle,’ Woods’ tone softened, ‘is there were nothin’ unusual in that?’
She nodded.
‘What about the next day? The day the murder was discovered. What was Lady Tyndall’s mood like then?’
‘She were upset after you’d told her about MacAdam’s death. Very upset.’
‘Did she know him well?’
Harriet nodded again. ‘He’d often come with us on outin’s in the carriage. Sometimes he’d take tea with us in town.’
‘She must have liked him very much.’
‘She did. It were the only time I heard her laugh, when she were with him. He were a funny man – but I didn’t like him much.’
‘You didn’t?’ Woods was impressed. Harriet must be the only female who knew MacAdam who didn’t warm to him.
‘No, there were somethin’ false about him. He flirted with her – and it, it didn’t seem natural. I think he were after her money.’
‘Do you think she were overly fond of MacAdam?’
Suddenly the girl looked wary. ‘Constable, why are you askin’ about Lady Tyndall?’
‘She’s been a bit difficult, treacle. You know how she can be?’ Harriet nodded. ‘Anyhow, we think she knows somethin’ about MacAdam that she’s not tellin’ us. I’m hopin’ that you can help me get a better idea of their relationship. After all,’ he added, ‘she’s let you go without a reference. You don’t owe her anythin’ any more, do you? I’m sure a share of the reward will come in handy.’
‘I’ll get a reward if I help you?’
‘There’s a fifty-pound reward to be shared out amongst those who help solve the case of MacAdam’s murder.’
‘Fifty pounds!’
Woods could see she was torn between the prospect of the money and loyalty to her former mistress. He didn’t have to be a police officer to work out that this household, with its shabby and damaged furnishings, needed money. There wasn’t even any coal in the scuttle.
He paused for a moment, to let her think, then asked again: ‘Do you think Lady Tyndall were overly fond of David MacAdam – for a woman of her age and station, that is.’
‘She were besotted with him,’ Harriet said sharply. Her voice hardened with disgust. ‘It weren’t right for a woman of her age. She hung on his every word and often pleaded with him to come around and see her. Imagine it! A lady of her status – pleadin’ with a man like him.’ Months of frustration poured out of the girl in a torrent. ‘And she kept touchin’ ’im.’
Woods’ eyebrows shot up his forehead. ‘How so?’
‘She were always pattin’ his leg or touchin’ his face – brushin’ back his hair and strokin’ his cheek. It weren’t . . . it weren’t seemly.’
‘Did she give him presents?’
‘Often. An expensive pocket watch, a tie pin – and then that thing after he’d died.’
Woods sat up straighter. ‘What thing, treacle?’
‘She made me go with her to see MacAdam at the morgue in Bow Street.’
‘That must have been difficult for you,’ he said gently. He held back, knowing she’d tell him in her own time.
Harriet wrinkled her nose in disgust at the memory. ‘It were foul. The place stank of death but she didn’t seem to notice – or care. She wanted to give him a “goodbye” present, she said.’
‘What was it?’
‘I don’t know.’ The girl’s voice caught in her throat and her face screwed up in horror. ‘She leaned over the coffin and kissed his corpse! Can you imagine it? It were . . . horrible! Disgustin’! I looked away.’
‘So you didn’t see the present she gave him?’
‘No, I looked away. But she had somethin’ long and thin in her hand. She put it in the coffin with the body.’
Magistrate Read had his wigless head bowed over his paperwork when Lavender and Woods knocked and entered his office. ‘Morning, gentlemen,’ he said, without looking up. ‘I gather from Oswald Grey that our cells are full of your suspects.’
Lavender and Woods sat down in the chairs opposite Read’s desk.
‘Yes,’ Lavender said. ‘And I’m about to add to their number. I want an arrest warrant for Lady Tyndall.’
Read’s hand jerked and the quill scratched over the paper, spoiling his letter. ‘Lady Tyndall?’
‘Yes, we have irrefutable evidence that she stabbed David MacAdam during a heated argument.’
Shock flashed across Read’s face. He pushed aside his ruined letter and laid down his quill. ‘This had better be irrefutable evidence, Lavender. She’s a wealthy aristocrat – the widow of a baronet. It’ll be devilish hard to convict her.’
‘She’s also a possessive, bad-tempered and unstable old woman who allegedly nagged her husband to death after finding out about his liaison with another woman.’
‘Nagging is not a capital offence,’ Read said, ‘and rumours are not evidence. You’ll have to do better than that.’
Carefully, Lavender and Woods explained everything they had uncovered regarding the woman’s involvement with MacAdam. Read winced when Woods mentioned that Lady Tyndall had kissed MacAdam’s corpse.
‘I believe she’d fallen in love with the rogue,’ Lavender said. ‘That’s the only explanation for the generous gifts, the money she gave him and the liberties she allowed him with her carriage. She was ignorant of his plan to court and wed the Howard heiress until the morning of the murder. I suspect she brooded on it all day and went out to the stables to confront MacAdam when he returned from Bruton Street. She was one of the few people who knew where he was on Sunday night and his mode of transport. I think they went into the forge next to the carriage house to talk. This turned into an argument, then she grabbed the farrier’s knife and stabbed him. We’ve got two witnesses who heard a man and a woman arguing: Ike Rawlings and Mrs Barton, the coachman’s wife.’
‘Is Mrs Barton a reliable witness to the argument?’ Read asked. ‘Because once Lady Tyndall’s lawyers find out Ike Rawlings intended to marry MacAdam’s widow, they’ll tear his evidence to pieces in court if you put him in the witness stand. Like you, they’ll suspect he murdered MacAdam himself.’
‘We’ve also got her maid’s statement that she left a “goodbye” present in MacAdam’s coffin,’ Woods said.
‘Which can only be the farrier’s knife we found in the coffin in Chelmsford,’ Lavender added.
Read still didn’t look convinced. ‘Juries tend to be dismissive of the testimony of servants who’ve been sacked from their employment. They recognise that the young girl may want revenge.’
‘She told me the story without promptin’,’ Woods said. ‘I believe her.’
‘Whether the case holds up in court or not – I’m convinced Lady Tyndall murdered MacAdam,’ Lavender said firmly. ‘MacAdam was a rogue and a lothario but even he deserves justice. I want an arrest warrant.’
‘Good grief, Stephen,’ Read said unhappily as he reached for his quill. ‘You’ll cause a sensation with this case.’
C
hapter Thirty-Seven
A black barouche with four handsome chestnuts waited outside Mrs Palmer’s house on Park Lane when Lavender and Woods arrived with the prison wagon they’d borrowed from Newgate gaol.
‘Looks like she’s got company, all right,’ Woods said as he pulled on the reins. He stopped the distinctive vehicle a few yards down from the house. Lavender didn’t want anyone in number ninety-three to look out of the window and see it.
‘That’ll be Lady Louisa Fitzgerald’s carriage,’ Lavender said. ‘Let’s hope we’re not too early and that Lady Tyndall is here.’
‘Are you sure you want to arrest her here? You’ll have an audience.’
Lavender nodded. ‘It’s for the best. I have a hunch that she’ll say something in her defence when surrounded by her shocked friends. She’ll feel pressurised to explain herself here. When we take her back to Bow Street, she’ll clam up like an oyster until her lawyer arrives.’
‘So you’re hopin’ for a confession?’
‘Yes – with witnesses.’
They climbed down from the box. Young Will raced across the road towards them, grinning. Woods tossed him a penny to look after the horses.
The maid who answered the door looked unsure when Lavender asked to be shown into the parlour. ‘Mrs Palmer has guests,’ she said, ‘their ladyships are here and so is Sir Richard.’
‘I know – I want to see them too.’
The narrow room was crowded. The three women were all dressed sombrely in black and sitting on chairs near to the fireplace. Mrs Palmer was red-eyed with crying and fiddled with a damp handkerchief in her lap. Sir Richard sat on a hard-backed chair by the table in the window. His crimson silk waistcoat brought the only splash of brightness to the dark room.
Lady Tyndall slammed down her cup, slopping tea into the saucer, and glowered angrily at Lavender. ‘What are you doing here? I don’t know how you’ve the bare-faced cheek to show your face after the way you talked to me the other day.’
‘I’ve news for you all,’ Lavender said simply.
Sir Richard held up his hand to silence the angry woman. ‘Steady on, Clarissa. Lavender knows that I haven’t been happy at times with how he’s conducted this investigation but he usually gets his man and we need to hear him out. Did you catch Bentley, Lavender? They told me at Bow Street yesterday that you were pursuing him.’
Lavender nodded. ‘We arrested Bentley on the Great North Road. He’s now in the cells at Bow Street.’
‘Oh dear.’ Mrs Palmer’s thin shoulders drooped and she blinked back more tears.
‘So, have you solved the case, Detective?’ Lady Louisa asked. ‘Do you know who murdered Davy?’ She had her whippet on her knee and was letting it lap at cold tea out of her saucer, oblivious to the mess the splashes made on her gown.
‘Yes, I have.’
Lady Louisa turned to Lady Tyndall in triumph. ‘That’s ten guineas you owe me, Clarissa. I said Lavender would solve the mystery within a week.’
Lavender bit back his urge to smile. ‘Thank you for your faith in us, ma’am.’
‘Well, I don’t want to hear about it.’ Lady Tyndall gathered up her reticule. ‘There’s no need to bother your maid, Sylvia. I shall see myself out.’
‘Oh, do sit down, Clarissa!’ Lady Louisa said firmly. ‘You know you’re as intrigued as the rest of us. You’re dying to find out what happened to poor Davy.’
‘Huh!’ Lady Tyndall exclaimed, but she remained seated, glaring coldly at Lavender.
‘Come on then, man,’ Sir Richard said. ‘Don’t keep us in suspense. What’s happened to my sister’s lodgers?’
Lavender cleared his throat. ‘Firstly, it would appear that Frank Collins was accidentally killed in a drunken brawl in his room in June.’
‘Your lodgers were more partial to their drink than you suggested when we first met,’ Woods said to Mrs Palmer.
The elderly woman grimaced. ‘Frank died here? In my house?’
‘Yes,’ Lavender said. ‘Did you go to Dulwich for a while in June to visit your friend?’
Mrs Palmer nodded.
‘During your absence, MacAdam and Collins had an argument about Miss Howard and MacAdam’s plan to marry her. Collins thought the plan was appalling. It seems Frank Collins was the only person in Mayfair with any moral scruples.’
‘That’s a bit below the belt, Lavender,’ Sir Richard warned.
Lavender ignored him and continued. ‘MacAdam hit Collins. He fell and smashed his head on the corner of the hearth in his room.’
There was a short silence, then Lady Louisa groaned softly. ‘Poor Frank.’
Mrs Palmer’s elegant hand fluttered to dab her eyes with her handkerchief. Only Lady Tyndall seemed unmoved.
‘Such an injury is consistent with the wound I found on Collins’ skull,’ Sir Richard said.
‘When I came here early this morning I discovered bloodstains on the floorboards around the hearth and there are cracked tiles in the corner.’
‘So, it looks like Bentley’s story is true – MacAdam killed Collins,’ Sir Richard said thoughtfully.
‘Unless Bentley hit him,’ Woods suggested.
Sir Richard shook his head. ‘Even in his cups, I can’t imagine Bentley knocking down a man as big as Collins – but MacAdam was his equal in strength and size.’
‘So if Davy killed Frank, why don’t you release young Alfred?’ Lady Louisa asked. ‘Did he kill Davy?’
‘No, he didn’t kill MacAdam – but he did aid and abet MacAdam in his devious plan to hide Collins’ body in a grave in Chelmsford. MacAdam rewarded Bentley with an introduction to Miss Matilda Howard, whom Bentley wooed for the same reason MacAdam was after the older sister – the girls’ future inheritance from their grandfather.’
‘Oh dear, what a tangled web we weave,’ Mrs Palmer sighed. She looked wretched. ‘I suppose Alfred will spend a long time in gaol for his part in the fraud?’
‘He’ll be lucky to escape the death penalty, ma’am,’ Lavender replied.
Mrs Palmer shuddered.
Lady Louisa shook her head sadly. ‘What a waste of his life,’ she said. ‘I always enjoyed Alfred’s company. Why can’t people just be satisfied with what they have and stop scheming after more?’
Lady Tyndall leaned forward to Mrs Palmer and patted her arm. ‘What a shame for you, Sylvia,’ she said. ‘Once this news leaks out you’ll be ruined, my dear. Well, I’m sorry but I’m afraid I can’t stay to hear any more.’
‘She’s not the only one who’s ruined,’ Lavender said sharply before she could rise. He pulled out the warrant from his coat pocket. ‘Lady Tyndall, by the power vested in me by His Royal Highness, the Prince Regent, in the name and on behalf of His Majesty King George III, I arrest you on suspicion of murdering David MacAdam.’
‘Good grief, Lavender!’ Sir Richard leapt to his feet – whether in shock or protest was unclear. Mrs Palmer gasped in horror and Lady Louisa turned pale and pushed her dog to the floor.
A sarcastic smile curled up the corner of Lady Tyndall’s mouth. ‘Rubbish!’ she said. ‘What absolute rubbish! How could an old woman like me kill a man like MacAdam? Who would believe such nonsense?’
‘You were infatuated with the man,’ Lavender said firmly.
‘You’ve gone too far this time, Lavender!’ she retorted angrily.
‘You resented his relationship with Miss Howard,’ Lavender’s tone hardened to match her own. ‘You gave him money, bought him expensive presents and loaned him your carriage. We’ve two witnesses who heard you arguing with him in the mews on the night of the murder.’
‘For God’s sake, Lavender!’ Sir Richard exclaimed. ‘You’re wrong – you must be!’
Lavender pulled out the farrier’s knife from his coat pocket and held it out towards the surgeon. ‘Do you recognise this, Sir Richard?’
‘Why, yes – it’s the murder weapon. The farrier’s knife we found in MacAdam’s coffin.’
‘We’ve another witness, La
dy Tyndall’s former maid, Harriet. She claims they went to Bow Street morgue the day after the murder and she watched Lady Tyndall place something in MacAdam’s coffin.’
‘She’s lying. Who would believe a girl like that over me?’ Lady Tyndall screamed.
‘She says you placed it there as you leaned over the dead man to kiss him goodbye.’
‘You kissed him?’ Lady Louisa stared at her friend in disgust.
‘Did you go to the Bow Street morgue, Clarissa?’ Sir Richard asked.
‘Did you kiss him?’ Lady Louisa asked again, her voice rising in disbelief.
‘Oh, she were always touchin’ and strokin’ MacAdam, according to the maid,’ Woods interjected.
Lady Tyndall rose angrily to her feet. ‘It was nothing – just a goodbye kiss to a dear friend – that’s all.’
‘So you admit you were at the Bow Street morgue,’ Lavender said in triumph.
‘I was,’ she spat back at him. ‘But I’ve never seen that – that thing – before.’
‘Yes, you have,’ Lavender said. ‘It’s the missing knife from the forge next to your carriage house. You grabbed it in fury and stabbed David MacAdam with it while you were arguing with him about his relationship with Miss Howard. Then you hid it where you thought no one would look.’
‘Is Lavender right, Clarissa?’ Lady Louisa asked. ‘Did your jealousy finally get the better of you? Did you stab MacAdam to death because of the girl?’
Lady Tyndall glared back into her face, tight-lipped.
‘You damned fool,’ Lady Louisa said. ‘It was only ever supposed to be a bit of amusing distraction with those men. You weren’t supposed to fall in love with one of them!’
‘So what happened, Lady Tyndall?’ Lavender asked. ‘Did MacAdam’s deception remind you of your late husband’s betrayal? Did you imagine MacAdam and that sweet young girl with the flawless skin and the glossy hair cuddled up together? She was so young and so tender, wasn’t she? You couldn’t compete with that, could you?’
Sir Richard winced. ‘Steady on, Lavender.’
Lavender ignored him and stepped closer to Lady Tyndall. ‘Did you picture MacAdam touching Miss Howard like you touched him? Did you imagine him stroking her arm, pushing back her hair and tenderly kissing her soft lips?’
Murder in Park Lane Page 27
