‘You are doubtless investigating the demise of Lady Pemberton,’ he said with a sad shake of his head. ‘A very great loss. She was a huge and tireless supporter of our efforts in this parish.’
‘So I understand.’
‘I take comfort from the fact that she will have gone to a better place.’
‘Amen,’ Salter said softly.
‘Tell me, did she ever ask you for help in tracking down a man by the name of Percy Thomas Pemberton?’ Riley asked.
‘Why yes, as a matter of fact she did. She said that he was a long lost relative of her husband’s whom she was anxious to find. She knew the month and year of his birth and it didn’t take me long to find the record. Percy was adopted when he was just two weeks old by a corn merchant here in Wapping by the name of Deveraux.’
‘Do you have an address?’ Riley asked.
‘I can give you the same information that I supplied to her ladyship. I asked her if it had been helpful when I next saw her and she told me that it had. We didn’t discuss the matter again.’
‘How long ago was this, sir?’ Salter asked, his notebook poised.
‘Oh, now let me see.’ The clergyman rubbed his chin as he attempted to recollect. ‘Not more than a year or so.’
Riley thanked him and he and Salter went off in search of the Deveraux place of business. They found a dilapidated warehouse in an alleyway near the wharf. There was no sign of life, other than a scrawny dog who appeared through a gap in the weathered door, barked half-heartedly at them and then wagged its tail. Riley, feeling sorry for the cur, purchased a pie from a stall situated in the main thoroughfare. He threw it to the dog who wolfed it down in two swallows, licked his lips and then slunk on his belly behind Riley and Salter as they walked away.
‘You’ll go to heaven, sir,’ Salter said.
‘I’ve a mind to have a dog for the children, one day.’
‘Children?’ Salter asked, flexing a brow.
‘Just thinking ahead, Sergeant. Don’t jump to conclusions.’
‘If you say so, sir.’
Riley glanced over his shoulder. The dog was still…well, dogging their footsteps, looking sufficiently pathetic to move Sophia’s soft heart. Riley told himself that he was made of sterner stuff and would not be taken in.
‘No good deed goes unpunished,’ Salter said, shooing the dog away. It slunk back into the shadows but continued to follow them at a distance.
‘Apparently,’ Riley replied. ‘There’s a tavern over yonder, Jack. A good place as any to seek information.’
‘And a spot of early lunch, sir?’ Salter suggested hopefully.
Riley chuckled. ‘That too.’
The landlord was happy to serve them but the taproom was packed with warehousemen and dockers, washing the dust from their throats with reasonable quality ale. Riley ordered the landlady’s stew for them both and, glancing out the window and seeing the dog still lurking, head canted in an appealing manner, another pie. Salter shook his head and said nothing.
By the time they had consumed their lunch, the crowd had thinned and Riley took the opportunity to quiz the landlord regarding the Deveraux family.
‘Regular in here, so he were. Old man Deveraux that is. Young Percy came in once or twice after the old man died. Of course, Percy wasn’t his natural son. He were adopted. Milly Deveraux couldn’t have kids and Deveraux wanted a son to carry on the business, so they took one from the orphanage.’
‘What were they like as a family?’ Salter asked.
‘The old man was hard on the kid, stricter than most. Made him earn his keep while he learned the trade. There weren’t much money and there weren’t a lot of love neither, I don’t reckon. Anyway, Deveraux passed on…oh, a good twenty years past. Percy married soon as he took control of the business. A pretty housemaid, she was. He’d been sweet on her for years. The old man hadn’t approved and Percy didn’t dare go against his wishes. Deveraux didn’t believe in sparing the rod, the way I heard it—’
‘He beat the boy?’ Riley asked.
The landlord gave a negligent shrug. ‘No more than normal. Weren’t my business to interfere, but I do know the kid was very wary of the old man, who never lost an opportunity to remind him how fortunate he was to have been adopted. Told ’im he’d of finished up in the workhouse, always supposing he’d survived his infancy. If it weren’t for him, that is.’
Riley shared a look with Salter. ‘You said he married, but I see the business is closed down, derelict. What happened to Percy? Is he still alive?’
‘Nah. I’ll tell you what I told the other fella who came round here a while back asking about them. Percy were still alive then but he weren’t in the best of health. The family sold up to a bigger corn merchant…Well, there’s so much competition nowadays that the smaller man is getting squeezed out. Besides, Percy were ailing. Consumption. Happens a lot around these parts. The family moved to a cottage a few streets away.’ Salter asked for the address and jotted it down. ‘All gone now though. The wife died before Percy and Percy himself went a few months ago. Nursed up until the end by his daughter, so he was.’
‘His daughter?’ Riley asked.
‘Oh aye, apple of his eye that girl was, and she was devoted to her old dad. Pretty as a picture she is. Takes after her mother in that regard. All blonde curls, blue eyes and innocent smiles to get a man’s juices flowing—and she knows it, the minx. An aspiring actress, so I hear tell. I remember her as a tot, being entertained by the wandering players what come around these parts from time to time.’ Another significant glance passed between the two detectives. Riley experienced a tingling feeling down his spine. The one he always got when the pieces fell into place and he was close to solving a case. ‘Not sure where she is now though. She closed up the cottage and moved away the moment she’d buried her father and I don’t know of anyone who’s seen her since. Once or two of my younger customers were keen on her but I reckon she had her sights set higher.’ He sniffed. ‘Can’t say as I blame her for that.’
‘What is her name?’ Salter asked.
‘Oh, Dorothy. Dorothy Deveraux.’
Riley thanked the man and they left the tavern. The dog slunk up to them and was rewarded with a second pie.
‘Well, sir, it looks like we’ve found our murderess,’ Salter said as they hailed a Hansom. The dog whined, trotting along behind it in traffic that was slowed to a walking pace in the clogged streets by the wharf. ‘And acquired a sorry excuse for a dog an’ all,’ he added, glancing down at the mutt.
‘Cabbage will adopt him if I give her half a chance. Let’s see if he’s determined to stay with us. If so, he will have made the decision for me and I might keep him myself.’
Salter shook his head, speechless for once.
‘Doreen Sutherland is obviously Dorothy Deveraux,’ Riley said as the Hansom continued to make slow progress, their jarvey indulging in colourful exchanges with drivers whom he accused of blocking his way.
‘You think Lady Pemberton sent someone to ask questions about the Deveraux family in that tavern, as we just did? That’s who accosted the landlord before us.’
‘I do, Jack. It isn’t the sort of place that she would risk being seen herself. Anyway, we shall have Miss Sutherland brought in and ask her ourselves.’
They arrived at the Yard and found the dog still with them, despite the fact that the Hansom had speeded up in places. His tongue lolled from the side of his mouth and he wagged his tail cautiously, eyeing them from beneath a matted, shaggy fringe, his pathetic expression impossible to resist. Riley laughed and patted his wiry head.
‘All right, old fellow. It looks as though you’ve found yourself a home.’
The dog barked and walked close to Riley’s impeccably tailored leg as he entered the Yard.
‘What is that effing creature doing in my station?’ a scowling Sergeant Barton demanded.
‘Ah, Sergeant, I rather thought you might ask one of your constables to give him a drink of water and a
bath, if it’s not too much trouble.’
Barton’s eyes bulged. ‘You what?’
‘He’s a material witness to a murder,’ Riley improvised, grinning.
Barton scratched his head, muttering about the odd ways of the gentry. ‘I’ll see what I can do, sir,’ he said dubiously.
‘Thank you, Sergeant. Much obliged. Bring him to my office when he’s fit to be seen.’
‘That’ll take a while,’ Barton said, tilting his head and eyeing the dog sceptically.
‘Soames, Carter.’ Riley entered the detectives’ communal room and greeted his constables. ‘Get yourself round to the Axton residence and bring Miss Sutherland in for further questioning.’ He explained what they had just learned.
‘Blimey,’ Carter said. ‘Didn’t see that one coming.’
‘Don’t tell her why we need to speak with her,’ Riley said.
‘She thinks she’s got away with murder,’ Salter added, ‘and we shall enjoy disabusing her of that notion.’
Less than an hour later, Riley was informed that Miss Sutherland was in an interview room.
‘She weren’t best pleased to be brought in,’ Soames said. ‘Claimed she had to be at the theatre.’
‘She won’t be seeing that establishment again,’ Riley said, firming his jaw.
‘Here we are,’ Barton said, opening the door and ushering the dog through it. Riley barely recognised him with a clean coat devoid of mud and tangles. The dog looked up uncertainly and Riley scratched his ears.
‘Thank you, Barton,’ Riley said. ‘You never fail to amaze me with your inventiveness.’
‘Just as well that I enjoy a challenge. He’s probably got fleas, yer know.’
Riley laughed. ‘I’ll risk it.’
‘You sure you know what you’re doing, sir?’ Salter asked. ‘What will Lady Riley say?’
‘This dog is domesticated, Salter, and has been abandoned through no fault of his own.’ Riley demonstrated by pointing to the corner of his office and clicking his fingers. The dog obediently took himself off to that corner, curled up and rested his big shaggy head on his outstretched front paws, watching to see if his actions had met with Riley’s approval. Riley leaned down to scratch his ears again. ‘Point proven, I believe. I had a dog very similar to this one when I was a boy. I suppose that’s why I felt so sorry for him. Anyway, I doubt he’ll move, so let’s go and attend to Miss Sutherland.’
‘What am I doing here?’ she demanded, no longer flirtatious but indignant. ‘I have told you everything I know.’
‘Thank you for coming in.’ Riley paused. ‘Miss Deveraux.’
Her shocked expression was all the confirmation that Riley required.
‘I don’t know what you…’
‘When did your father discover that he was Sir Joseph’s son?’ Riley asked, speaking over her lame denial.
‘No point clamming up on us,’ Salter added. ‘We know who you are and we know you killed Lady Pemberton out of some misguided attempt for revenge. We understand why you did it, but we’d like to hear your side of the story.’
She slid a little lower in her chair, pale and clearly very angry. Then, just as quickly, she sat tall again and lifted her chin, ever the consummate actress.
‘My father was precious to me, Chief Inspector. My mother too, but I had a special bond with Pa.’
‘You told Clifford that you were raised by your uncle.’
She lifted one shoulder in a negligent shrug. ‘It stopped him asking questions. Pa had a hard life. His father was a cruel man who took his belt to him for the flimsiest of reasons. He had permanent scars on his back. I saw them when I was nursing him through his final illness.’ Her eyes watered but she struggled to retain her composure. ‘His horrible father never tired of telling him how fortunate he was to have been plucked from obscurity. Fortunate? Ha! He worked fifteen hours a day, had a minimal education and was terrified of Deveraux’s moods, especially when he was drunk. Worse, his father wouldn’t permit him to marry my mother. Said she wasn’t good enough for him and that she only liked Pa because he stood to inherit the family business.’
‘But he did marry her the moment he was free to do so,’ Riley said.
‘He did, but he was a broken man by then. He’d been worked so hard, his ailments had gone untreated and the fire went out of him—if it had ever existed. Ma said that my birth rejuvenated him. He made sure there was enough money for my education, such as it was, and encouraged me to do what he’d never been allowed to do and follow my dream of becoming an actress. Ma died and Pa was ailing, so I put aside my aspirations and looked after him. Then, out of the blue, she swanned into his life—’
‘Your father didn’t know who his real father was?’
‘Had no idea, and she had done nothing to try and find him all these years.’
Riley could see the seething anger reflected in her eyes and understood her need to blame someone, anyone, for the manner in which her father had suffered. ‘Lady Pemberton was not his mother,’ he felt obliged to point out.
‘I know that. I heard her telling my father that his mother had died giving birth to him, and it was obvious that Sir Joseph had washed his hands of his son. She didn’t put it quite so bluntly, but the meaning was clear enough. If he’d kept an eye on him, he could have made so much difference to the quality of Pa’s life. He was a talented musician, you know, and he could have made a living from his skill but for the fact that there was no piano in Deveraux’s house and frivolous pastimes were actively discouraged. Pa used to find the courage to sneak off to the rectory and play the piano there, but he seldom got away with it without receiving a thrashing.’
‘It must have been hard, watching him wither and die,’ Riley said, not without sympathy in his tone.
Miss Sutherland gave her head a theatrical toss. ‘That situation would not have come about if his blood relatives had thrown him just a few scraps now and then.’
‘Which would not have got past Deveraux,’ Riley pointed out. ‘You can be sure that your father would not have felt the benefit.’
Miss Sutherland looked away, not willing to acknowledge the truth behind Riley’s words. ‘I might have forgiven Lady Pemberton for her neglect. As you say, Pa was not her child. But I heard her tell Pa that she herself had given birth to a child out of wedlock and had recently made contact with him. Needless to say, that child never suffered privations.’ Miss Sutherland sucked air through her teeth. ‘She was such a paragon of virtue, the old lady, and yet she had spread her legs in her youth like a common whore. Unlike whores though, she didn’t need to do it to survive, which made her lower than low in my eyes.’
‘Meeting her own son after so many years galvanised her into tracking your father down,’ Riley said. ‘She need not have done that. Having found him, she made your father’s final days more comfortable and paid for his burial,’ he added, playing a hunch.
‘Very generous of her, I’m sure’ she replied, sneering.
‘So you decided to get your revenge by blackmailing Lady Pemberton. You knew her guilty secret and would keep it, for a price.’
‘Why not?’ She lifted a slender shoulder.
‘It enabled you to kick-start your career as an actress by purchasing your way into a starring role,’ Salter said, curling his upper lip.
‘I would have got there on my own merits if I hadn’t been obliged to put acting aside and nurse Pa.’ Riley could see that she had an inflated opinion of her abilities and believed what she said. ‘And who’s fault was it that Pa was so ill? Besides, I deserved some compensation on his behalf after all the suffering that he’d had to endure when he need not have done. The stories Ma told me about the abuse he suffered at Deveraux’s hands still gives me sleepless nights whenever I think about them. Every time I close my eyes I see his back criss-crossed with scars from the severity of the beatings he withstood, and the unfairness of it all makes my blood boil.’
‘So the blackmail was not enough for you,’ Riley said,
his voice hardening. ‘You decided to destroy Lady Pemberton’s family as well.’
She snorted. ‘They didn’t need much help from me. They were already pulling one another apart.’
‘You took the initial payment that Lady Pemberton gave you and then got greedy. But when you asked for more, she said there was none, which infuriated you. You knew it couldn’t be true because you were aware that she lived in luxury.’ Riley eyed the woman dispassionately. ‘And so you threw yourself at Clifford, aware that would be sufficient to see you invited to Lady Pemberton’s house. Clifford resided there and you would be able to torture Lady P with your presence. You also inveigled your way into Alan Axton’s affections and made sure Lady Pemberton knew it. But she was powerless to do anything about it, unless she paid up or told her family about her son herself; neither of which alternatives would have appealed to her. But I suspect she would have simply told the truth about Barlow eventually, rather than see her family destroyed by a vengeful woman who wouldn’t have known anything about her history if she hadn’t tried to find her late husband’s bastard son.’
‘You seem to know it all,’ Miss Sutherland said in a derisive tone, flinching at the harshness of Riley’s words.
‘Not quite. Things went awry for you when you actually fell for Axton.’ She flinched for a second time and Riley knew he was in the right of it. ‘That was not supposed to happen, but like all good actresses, you adapted your performance and ad-libbed. It might actually work out better for you if you set up home with Axton. That really would destroy Lady Pemberton’s reputation and set her family at one another’s throats. But first you needed more capital. You didn’t believe for a moment that there was no more to be had. Lady Pemberton had flaunted her diamonds in front of you at her birthday dinner. They would do, to start with. So you went to her room that night after everyone had retired, having already asked Alan to come to your own room a little later, thereby ensuring that you had someone to vouch for you. You picked up the diamonds but Lady Pemberton woke and told you they were paste. She’d sold the originals to pay for your silence and given the residue to her daughters. That must have infuriated you.’
Death of a Matriarch (Riley Rochester Investigates Book 7) Page 22
