Death of a Matriarch (Riley Rochester Investigates Book 7)

by Wendy Soliman

  All three sisters looked discomposed.

  ‘There is no need for that,’ Mrs Kinsley said. ‘I am sure there is nothing Miss Colby can tell you that we may not all hear.’

  ‘Nevertheless, I’m afraid I must insist. Have the goodness to excuse us please.’

  Miss Colby rose to her feet and Salter opened the door so that she could precede him and Riley through it.

  ‘I am sorry if your remaining here at my request is making life difficult for you,’ Riley said, after Miss Colby had seated herself and Riley had settled in the chair across from her with the door firmly closed against flapping ears.

  ‘Please don’t concern yourself on my account, Lord Riley,’ Miss Colby replied. ‘I am accustomed to their spite and don’t allow it to affect me. Anyway, I expect you have come to ask if I have learned anything from the family that might help with your enquiry.’

  ‘That is one of my reasons.’ He paused and raised an inquisitive brow. ‘Have you?’

  ‘Only what I could already have told you. They are desperate to learn what they have inherited.’ Miss Colby gave a shudder. ‘Apart from that, they spend their time bickering and take out their frustrations on me.’

  ‘I hope you will not have to endure their bad manners for much longer.’

  ‘Don’t give it another thought, Lord Riley. If the circumstances were not so tragic, I would find their avarice and sense of entitlement diverting. Violet certainly did, most of the time.’

  ‘She deliberately set them against one another?’

  Miss Colby tilted her head as she considered the question. ‘I wouldn’t go so far as to say that. But she did often sing the virtues of one in order to provoke the others, I sometimes thought. Then she would subject the previous favourite to similar treatment. Not terribly kind—but then they are all three of them so greedy that it’s difficult to feel sympathy for them. They don’t really care about Violet’s death. You don’t need me to tell a gentleman with your skills of observation that they only want to bury her so that they can hear the contents of the will.’

  ‘Indeed.’ Convinced that she was not the killer, Riley made up his mind to confide in the lady in the hope that his revelations would throw up additional clues. ‘What I am about to tell you is in the strictest confidence,’ he said, fixing Miss Colby with an appraising look. ‘Were it to become public knowledge then my chances of catching Lady Pemberton’s killer will be greatly reduced and I know you would prefer to avoid an unsatisfactory conclusion to the investigation.’

  ‘Of course, Lord Riley. I want to know who murdered my friend and why, and I will do all I can to help you in that regard.’ She settled herself into a more comfortable position. ‘I realise, of course, that I am a suspect along with everyone else who spent the night of the murder beneath this roof, since one of us must have done it. The ladies realise that too, which is partly why they are looking at one another with so much suspicion. They all had reasons to want Violet dead and you don’t need me to tell you what those reasons were. That is why they would dearly like to think that I or Mr Barlow was responsible, but they cannot decide what either of us would have to gain from her death.’

  ‘Quite,’ Riley said with sympathy.

  ‘It must be very frustrating for them. But your faith in me is doubly appreciated and I most certainly will not betray your trust.’

  ‘What I am about to tell you may not come as a surprise to you, but I suspect that it will be a dreadful blow to Lady Pemberton’s daughters.’ Riley paused. ‘Were you aware that about six months ago your friend sold all of her jewels?’

  ‘Good heavens, no! I had absolutely no idea.’ Miss Colby’s entire body jerked forward and Riley thought that she might actually tip out of her chair. Her reaction vindicated his decision to confide in her. No one could possibly fake such abject shock. ‘I’m sure you have been misinformed, Lord Riley.’ Miss Colby gave her head a decisive shake. ‘She wore her diamonds on the night of her birthday. We all saw them as clear as day.’

  ‘There’s no mistake. I was informed of the sale by Lord Isaac Arnold, who deals with Lady Pemberton’s legal affairs, and I have obtained independent corroboration from the jeweller in Hatton Garden who purchased them and supplied your friend with paste replicas.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’ Miss Colby’s composure deserted her and she looked totally perplexed. ‘Why ever would she do something so drastic? And why did she not tell me? Many of those jewels were family heirlooms. Pemberton family heirlooms, that is. The girls don’t know it but I have overheard their constant spats about who deserves to inherit which piece. They don’t mind what they say in front of me. It’s as though I am a servant, unimportant in their eyes.’

  ‘It’s clear to me that this revelation is news to you,’ Riley said. ‘But can you think what would have made Lady Pemberton resort to such drastic action?’

  ‘I knew nothing whatsoever about it, but I do wish she had confided in me. Only something of a desperate nature would have compelled her, that much I can tell you, but whatever it was, she didn’t say a word to me.’

  ‘We know she had arranged to call upon Lord Torbay after her birthday,’ Riley said gently. ‘And the reason she did so was because someone was blackmailing her…’

  ‘No!’ Miss Colby gasped the word. She looked totally shocked and alarmingly pale. There was a sherry decanter on the sideboard. Riley nodded towards it. Salter stood to pour a glass, which he pressed into Miss Colby’s hand.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Riley said, as she sipped at her drink, still looking worryingly discomposed. ‘But I’m afraid there’s more. If you are not feeling well enough to…’

  ‘No, please, Lord Riley.’ She put her half-drunk sherry aside, folded her hands in her lap and made an effort to collect herself. ‘I must know it all, and as I have already assured you, whatever you have to tell me will go no further.’

  ‘Lady Pemberton was being blackmailed, which is why we assume she sold her jewels. But she also feared for her life. Hence her need for Lord Torbay’s services. She hoped he would be able to help her resolve her problems, one must assume.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘Now that you have had time to reflect and recover from the shock, are you absolutely sure that you knew nothing about any of this?’ Salter asked. ‘Nothing has occurred to you in the light of what the chief inspector has told you?’

  ‘Nothing whatsoever, Sergeant, I regret to say.’ She plucked absently at the fabric of her black skirts. ‘I only wish it were otherwise.’

  ‘Had she seemed worried or distracted of late?’ Riley asked.

  ‘Actually yes, she had become more withdrawn, now that you mention it. I asked her if anything was wrong on several occasions and she simply said that her family was being more demanding than normal. I accepted that explanation because…well, because they always were.’

  ‘This will come out when the will is read,’ Riley said, ‘but I wonder if you already know that Mr Barlow is Lady Pemberton’s natural son.’

  The news seemed to come as less of a shock to Miss Colby. She even offered Riley a half-smile. ‘I did not know for sure, but I have wondered. I heard them talking once or twice when they were not aware of my presence and saw how much pleasure Violet took in his company. It also explains why she was such a stalwart supporter of the unmarried mothers’ charity. Their relationship made sense on so many levels.’

  ‘You didn’t ask her outright?’ Salter enquired.

  ‘No, Sergeant, I did not. If Violet had wanted me to know she would have told me.’ She managed another wry smile. ‘That, combined with the sale of the jewels that the sisters are depending upon inheriting, will come as a terrible blow to them all. But then, if one of them killed her, it’s less punishment than she deserves.’

  ‘You don’t discount the possibility that one of them might be capable of matricide?’

  ‘Certainly I do not, Lord Riley. Those three are capable of just about anything. They are all desperate for funds and Viole
t had grown tired of their constant demands.’ Miss Colby ran a hand down her face. ‘After what you have just told me, I have a better understanding of why.’ She glanced up at Riley. ‘Presumably you have considered the possibility of the blackmailer having found out about Mr Barlow.’

  ‘We have, and we think it unlikely. That is all I will say on that score but I did want to ask you if the initials PT mean anything to you?’

  ‘PT?’ Miss Colby closed her eyes and Riley allowed the subsequent silence to stretch out, leaving her free to search her memory. ‘I am sorry, Lord Riley,’ she said, opening her eyes again, ‘but it doesn’t ring any bells. Give me time to think about it and something might come to me, but I should warn you that although I was Violet’s companion, she didn’t share all her thoughts or her time with me; far from it. She often went out and I had no idea where or with whom.’ She paused. ‘You think this PT might be the blackmailer?’

  ‘She mentions someone with those initials in her journals, and I cannot find out who it might be, but if you do not know…’

  ‘Have you asked Mr Barlow?’

  ‘I am satisfied that Mr Barlow didn’t kill her ladyship, but even so I am cautious about what I share and with whom.’

  ‘Then I am doubly grateful that you felt able to trust me.’

  Riley stood and smiled at her. ‘Please get in touch immediately if you think of anything that might help me in the light of the revelations I have just made, and especially if you remember who PT might be.’

  ‘You can be sure that I shall do so, Lord Riley.’

  Riley was aware of Mrs Kinsley watching from the drawing room window as he and Salter left Lady Pemberton’s house. She did not look happy.

  ‘Well, sir, Miss Colby wasn’t a lot of help, was she? Seems Lady P didn’t share her private business, even with her companion.’

  ‘Oh, I think Miss Colby might surprise us yet.’

  ‘You don’t think she knows more than she’s telling us, do you, sir?’ Salter scowled at the prospect. ‘She wouldn’t be the first to hold out on us, but I kind of like her and I want to think she’s on our side.’

  ‘She is, Jack. She is certainly the only person in that household who truly mourns the passing of Lady Pemberton. But at least now she will be better equipped to withstand the collective spite of the sisters, knowing what she does about her ladyship’s jewels and the disappointment that the ladies will shortly be obliged to endure.’

  Salter whistled to a passing cab. Its driver swerved in front of traffic and pulled up at the curb to collect them. The cabbie ignored the abuse hurled at him from other drivers as Riley and Salter climbed aboard and Salter told him to take them to The Fox and Ferret. The two detectives were jerked forward when the cabbie whipped up his horse and the conveyance juddered into motion on worn springs.

  ‘The thing is, sir, if Miss Colby had guessed about the true relationship between Lady P and Barlow, then perhaps one or more of the sisters did too. Perhaps one of them confronted her that night, come to that, which would explain the heated argument that was overheard. Perhaps all three of them did, if they felt their joint inheritance was under threat from an outsider. They don’t like each other but I reckon they’d join forces under those circumstances.’

  ‘Undoubtedly,’ Riley agreed. ‘Carry on articulating your thoughts, Sergeant. I am most anxious to hear your theories.’

  ‘We know from what Miss Colby told us that Lady P liked to taunt her daughters and play them off against one another. Perhaps she admitted that Barlow was her son and told whichever daughter confronted her that she was glad to have one child in whose accomplishments she could take pride.’ Salter lifted his hat and gave his scalp a good scratching. ‘Them daughters are cursed with jealousy and vicious tempers. I reckon it would have been enough, that revelation, to push one of them over the edge. And that would fit with your ideas about remorse, an’ all. She regretted what she’d done the moment she did it, which is why she laid her ladyship out so carefully.’

  ‘You are suggesting a crime motivated by jealousy, not a carefully planned murder, Jack?’

  ‘I suppose I am, sir. Iffing the woman had thought it through, it would have occurred to her that Barlow might profit under Lady P’s will, so killing her ladyship wouldn’t help none. Like we thought before, she’d have been better off killing Barlow. Seems to me that killing the mother for what she reckoned was the ultimate betrayal would be something what any of them could of done. Or all three of them working together, but I doubt it. One wiser head would have prevailed in those circumstances.’

  ‘I am impressed, Jack. Your theory is highly plausible and one that I had not taken into account.’

  ‘Well, sir, it’s like I always say. They don’t teach common sense nor the frailties of human nature at those fancy schools they sent you to.’

  ‘Many a true word, Jack,’ Riley replied, chuckling as they reached their destination relatively unscathed, no thanks to the haphazard driving methods of their cabbie. Riley paid the fare and they alighted from the vehicle outside the rundown tavern frequented by Dakin. ‘I shall certainly bear your thoughts in mind, but for now let’s see what our friend Dakin has to say for himself.’

  The taproom was every bit as unprepossessing as the outside of the tavern had warned Riley to expect. The room was gloomy and filled with working men, and Riley’s satirical splendour caused him to stand out like a beacon. Smoke from the fire belched back into the room, creating a fug that made it difficult to see much of anything. Peering through it, Riley noticed Dakin leaning on one end of the bar, watching them in evident amusement as conversations stalled and the population of the taproom eyed Riley and Salter with open suspicion.

  ‘Spending your windfall, I see,’ Riley remarked, nodding towards Dakin’s almost empty tankard and motioning to the barmaid for a refill.

  ‘Much obliged, I’m sure,’ Dakin said mournfully, making immediate inroads into his refreshed drink the moment it was slapped down in front of him. ‘Hulking coal about is a thirsty business.’

  Riley ordered ale for himself and Salter also and was unsurprised to find that it was excellent. The hoi polloi didn’t much care about their surroundings but there would be a riot if the landlord palmed them off with inferior ale.

  ‘You noticed something unusual at Lady Pemberton’s home yesterday morning that you wish to share with us, I am reliably informed.’

  ‘Quite the little wild cat, that niece of yours,’ Dakin replied, chuckling into his beer. ‘Unversed in the ways of the real world mind, but then that’s always the way with the upper classes ’cause they don’t have to live in it.’

  ‘We ain’t interested in your opinions, Dakin, and I’ll thank you to keep a respectful tongue in your head when speaking of Lady Sophia,’ Salter growled. Riley suppressed a smile. Salter wasn’t above making derogatory comments about Riley’s status himself, but woe betide anyone else who did so within his hearing. ‘Now, we ain’t got all day. What did you see?’

  Dakin fixed Salter with a vacuous stare, rubbed the side of his bulbous nose with a grimy hand and took a long sup of his ale, deliberately attempting to provoke Riley’s sergeant.

  ‘Reckon there were goings-on,’ he said when Salter refused to rise to the bait. ‘I deliver through the back alley. The tradesman’s entrance. The coal chute is behind the kitchens. A lad always opens it up for me and the cook never fails to invite me in for a cup of small beer. Right welcome it is, too. It’s heavy work what I do, and half the houses I call at don’t wanna see hide nor hair of the likes of me. There’d be hell to pay if they didn’t get their coal though.’ Dakin sniffed his disapproval at this slight to his dignity. ‘That’s never the case in Lady Peterson’s household mind. Right welcoming in that establishment, so they were.’

  ‘All very interesting,’ Riley said mildly. ‘But kindly get to the point.’

  ‘The point is, like I say, I tend to be invisible to the gentry. For example, there was this woman with blonde curls spilling
over her shoulders what slipped out the side door while I was delivering. She let some cove out, wrapped her arms around him, plastered her body against his, whispered something to him and then went back inside. She was too taken with him to notice me, I think. Anyways, I heard her ram the bolts shut and that’s all I saw.’

  ‘This female,’ Riley said. ‘What more did you notice about her?’

  Dakin guffawed. ‘There weren’t much left to the imagination but I couldn’t see her face. All I remember is blonde hair and a body that could give a cove ideas.’

  Riley and Salter exchanged a glance, aware that he had just described Miss Sutherland.

  ‘And the man she was with?’ Salter asked.

  Dakin shrugged one meaty shoulder. ‘Couldn’t tell you much about him. Well, why would I be looking at him where there was a much better view on offer?’

  ‘Was he old, young, tall, short, fat, thin?’ Salter was clearly running short on patience and rattled off the list of alternatives in staccato fashion. ‘Come on, man, think. You must have noticed something about him.’

  ‘He were short. Shorter than any of us, I reckon. Whiskers. He had dark whiskers. Probably middle-aged. Oh, and he were wearing posh evening clothes, like he was on his way home from somewhere and had stopped off for…’ Dakin thrust his groin forward in a crude gesture and chortled.

  ‘Were they acting furtively?’

  ‘What? Come again?’

  ‘Were they being stealthy is what the chief inspector needs to know?’ Salter translated.

  ‘Oh aye. Very furtive,’ Dakin replied, his voice heavy with sarcasm.

  Riley purchased more ale for Dakin in the hope of loosening his tongue. But it was clear he had told them all he could recall.

  ‘Seemed right odd, but I didn’t think much about it. I just assumed…well, you know, that the lady had enjoyed a bit of a tumble.’ Dakin wiped his mouth on the back of his grimy hand. ‘The well to-do ain’t immune to a little bed-hopping. You see all sorts in my line of work.’