Social Graces

by Wendy Soliman

  ‘But she also enjoyed parties and company, we’re told,’ Otto said.

  ‘Yes. Why would she not? She needed to be seen by the right people in order to keep her career in the ascendency. But the real Connie was an intensely private person.’

  Jake crossed his legs at the ankle and leaned back in his chair. ‘You were keen for her to spend a season with Felsham’s Repertory, I understand. Why was that? It seems like a bit of a comedown after playing in Shakespearean productions.’

  ‘I have seen other actresses make the mistake of ignoring the provinces.’ Barton glanced evasively off to his left as he spoke, arousing Jake’s suspicions. ‘I know it’s easy enough for theatre lovers to come into London on the train, but not all of them have the means or the will to do so.’ He returned his attention to Jake and waved a hand for emphasis. ‘Audiences can be judgemental, and if they thought Connie considered herself too good for them now that she’d made a name for herself, her career would have suffered.’

  ‘And you would have benefited financially if the tour was a success,’ Otto suggested.

  Barton inclined his head, seemingly unoffended. ‘I am a businessman, Mr Milton. Felsham and I are friends, we’ve known one another for years and I trust his judgement. His company would not have tarnished Connie’s reputation—quite the reverse. But if you think I was motivated by financial incentives, you are quite wrong. I would have gained financially no matter what Connie did, since as her agent I take a percentage of everything she earns.’ He swallowed. ‘Earned,’ he amended. ‘Be that as it may, believe me when I say that I had her best interests at heart. With the right guidance, she was destined to remain in demand for years and we would both have continued to benefit from her success.’

  Jake believed him. As agents went, he seemed genuine. Even so, he had not been completely honest. He had lied about his reasons for wanting Connie to tour with Felsham. Jake just didn’t know why. Yet.

  ‘What did you make of Connie’s relationship with Lord Chichester?’ he asked, in a deliberate change of tack designed to make Barton think he had got away with the lie.

  Barton sent Jake an assessing look. ‘You represent his interests.’

  ‘I already explained, we are here at Miss Larson’s behest. She discovered her sister’s body, is naturally very upset and wants to know what happened to her.’

  ‘Of course.’ He lowered his head for a moment’s respectful silence. ‘Even so, you are an earl and it follows that if Chichester is involved…well, everyone knows that the upper classes protect their own, regardless of the nature of their transgressions.’

  Jake sat up straighter in his chair and treated Barton to an intimidating look. ‘You mistake the matter,’ he said shortly. ‘If I can prove that Chichester killed Connie, he will answer to the courts for his crime. Upon that score you have my firm assurance.’

  ‘I apologise if I have offended you. I know of you by reputation, of course, and I am aware of what you did for Grantley’s widow.’

  ‘You were acquainted with Grantley?’ Jake asked.

  ‘Our paths crossed on numerous occasions. We were in the same business, although I was starting out at the time of his passing while he was already well established. I didn’t much care for him. I thought he was unscrupulous in the way he went about signing clients. However, that’s all water under the bridge now. I saw Mrs Grantley once or twice with her husband at crowded productions, but I don’t suppose she noticed me. Anyway, I congratulate you upon your marriage, Lord Torbay. A man in your position who not only cleared her name but also offered her the protection of his own is, in my opinion, honourable and trustworthy.’

  ‘Thank you. Now, about Miss Saville and Chichester?’

  It was Barton’s turn to sit a little straighter. ‘I neither liked nor approved of Connie’s relationship with Lord Chichester. He assumed that it gave him the right to interfere in her career and control its direction. He tried to talk her out of doing what was best for her simply because he was jealous of any attention she received from other men and wanted to keep her where she would always be available to him.’

  ‘She was his mistress,’ Otto said mildly. ‘Perhaps he thought he had purchased that right.’

  ‘Which he had not,’ Barton replied derisively. ‘He pursued Connie relentlessly in the early days, promising her the earth if she would enter into an arrangement with him. She eventually did so, but only because he would be able to open doors for her that even I could not.’

  ‘He supported productions, I would imagine, provided she was cast in a leading role.’

  ‘Precisely. It is not that unusual. A lot of smitten gentlemen with ulterior motives back new theatrical ventures for the same reason. But Connie made it clear to Chichester from the outset that I would manage her career, not he. He thought she would change her mind about that but she never did, and Chichester and I never saw eye to eye as a consequence. She needed someone like Chichester in the early days, before she became established, but she had outgrown that need and he was holding her back.’

  Otto sat forward. ‘You suggested to her that she end their arrangement?’

  ‘I did. I knew she had tired of his possessiveness. They fought about it all the time and it was depressing her.’

  ‘Do you know if she had actually broached the subject with him?’ Jake asked.

  ‘No, but it wouldn’t surprise me if she had. Once Connie decided upon a course of action there was no stopping her. She could be impulsive, and liked to get any unpleasantness out of the way as quickly as she could.’

  ‘I see.’ Jake took a moment to mull over what he had just learned. ‘Had she made a decision about Felsham’s offer?’

  ‘She had not, but she was warming to the idea. Once rid of Chichester’s influence I think she would have taken it. So if you are thinking that either Felsham or I killed her, you’re quite wrong. I was very attached to Connie. I discovered her, you know, performing in a small theatre in Shoreditch, and signed her up on the spot. I knew she had immense talent and, with my guidance, she was destined for great things.’ His eyes looked suspiciously moist. ‘I have lost not only a good friend but, frankly, one of my best sources of income.’

  ‘Do you know a man by the name of Woodford?’ Otto asked.

  ‘Far better than I would like to,’ Barton replied, scowling. ‘What is he to do with anything?’

  ‘That is rather what we hoped you could tell us,’ Jake replied. ‘We hear he was a regular visitor to Connie’s apartment.’

  ‘He is an aspiring agent—young, handsome and ambitious. I warned Connie away from him.’ Barton glowered at the fire. ‘If Chichester didn’t kill her, my money’s on Woodford.’

  ‘You warned Connie off because you thought he might use his youth and charm to tempt her away from you.’

  ‘He couldn’t,’ Barton snapped. ‘She was under contract to me for the next five years.’

  ‘Then what was the harm in their friendship?’

  ‘It was a little more than a friendship, I think you will find,’ Barton replied, his scowl intensifying. ‘He was the reason why she wanted to end her arrangement with Chichester.’

  ‘They were lovers?’ Jake asked, his attention to this vital snippet of information momentarily distracted by a sudden squall that rattled the windowpane.

  Barton shrugged. ‘I cannot prove that they were, but all the signs were there if one took the trouble to look. She came alive when Woodford was around, I can tell you that much. She said he made her laugh and that she enjoyed his company.’ Barton shook his head. ‘She was playing with fire. Chichester was not a man to be gainsaid. I told her repeatedly, but Connie did what Connie wanted to do and I couldn’t prevent her from self-destructing.’

  Jake nodded. ‘Can you tell us where to find him?’

  ‘He has a small office in Strand Lane,’ Barton replied with a derisive sniff.

  Jake stood up, thanked Barton and promised to let him know when the arrangements had been made for Conn
ie’s funeral.

  ‘Oh, one more thing,’ Jake said, turning back in the doorway. ‘Have the police been to talk to you about Connie?’

  ‘This morning. A uniformed constable came to inform me of her death and asked me when I last saw her.’

  ‘Nothing more than that?’ Jake wasn’t surprised at their inefficiency, but Otto looked outraged. ‘No one more senior? You were not told to expect anyone else, or asked to make a formal statement?’

  ‘No, no, nothing like that. They seemed to be treating it as a formality. I asked the constable if they knew who’d done it, but he wouldn’t tell me anything.’

  Jake nodded and this time they did go on their way.

  ‘One of the more criminal aspects of this affair,’ Otto fumed as they reached the pavement, ‘is Dowd’s unwillingness to investigate. If he doesn’t intend to charge Chichester, who is the most obvious suspect, then presumably he doesn’t mean to charge anyone at all. It’s beyond outrageous.’

  ‘But it doesn’t surprise me nearly as much as it does you,’ Jake replied calmly. ‘In Dowd’s eyes Connie was an actress, no better that she should be, who had drawn a respectable marquess into a tawdry affair. A marquess is incapable of murdering anyone because…well, because he’s a marquess and must know better. So in his mind, it follows that one of Connie’s theatrical cronies must be the culprit. Everyone knows they are flighty, given to fits of passion and jealous rage, and it would be like looking for a needle in a haystack.’ Jake held up his hands to ward off Otto’s objections. ‘That is not the way I see it, otherwise I wouldn’t be here with you now, but I know the way men like Dowd think.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose you’re right.’ Otto let out a long breath. ‘Well, if Dowd isn’t prepared to do the job for which he is paid, I suppose we had better do it for him.’

  Jake slapped Otto’s shoulder. ‘That’s the spirit!’

  ‘So, what did you make of Barton?’ Otto asked. ‘Clearly he is not our murderer.’

  ‘I wouldn’t be so sure about that.’

  Otto looked at Jake askance. ‘But he had nothing to gain and everything to lose by her death.’

  ‘He was in love with Connie himself. That much was immediately obvious to me. Men in love, beset with jealousy, behave irrationally. Perhaps she had decided not to throw Chichester over, having promised that she would. Perhaps she had decided to sever ties with Barton, regardless of her contractual obligations, and throw in her lot with Woodford. It would be enough to tip Barton over the edge if she decided upon the latter course of action. It would diminish his standing as an agent in the eyes of everyone connected to the theatre and he would be eaten up with jealousy if he saw Connie and Woodford constantly together.’

  ‘I suppose his partiality for her was obvious, now you have drawn his reaction to my attention. I put that down to the loss of a valuable source of income but now that I think about it, he did seem awfully upset. I mean, he must have other actors whom he represents. He won’t be on the breadline just because Connie is gone.’

  ‘Probably not. He certainly seems to live comfortably enough.’

  ‘He tolerated Connie’s relationship with Chichester because…well, because it was established and because he had to tread carefully. Chichester is a powerful man and if he thought that Barton had poisoned Connie’s mind against him, Chichester could destroy a lowly theatrical agent as casually as swatting a fly.’

  ‘Exactly. But another man warming her bed would be too much for him to endure. He was beset with jealousy and killed her in the heat of the moment, only to regret it immediately. And if Stoker was in his pay, he wouldn’t bite the hand that feeds him by admitting to having seen Barton go to her rooms that night.’

  ‘Wouldn’t put it past him to blackmail Barton, though.’

  ‘The same thought had occurred to me,’ Jake replied. ‘I’ll get Parker to have Stoker’s movements watched.’

  Otto chuckled. ‘Someone’s in for spending an awful lot of time in that tavern then, because there’s no better place to watch him from. I doubt if there will be a shortage of volunteers for that particular assignment.’

  ‘I doubt it too,’ Jake replied with a wry smile.

  They decided to walk to Felsham’s rehearsal hall in Covent Garden, and set off at a brisk pace.

  ‘Chichester could just as easily be the guilty party,’ Otto pointed out. ‘If he discovered Connie’s affiliation with Woodford, he would be justifiably outraged. After all, he was entitled to suppose that he’d purchased her exclusive services.’

  ‘Unfortunately we won’t be able to ask him,’ Jake said. ‘Even if he hadn’t dispensed with our services he’s not stupid enough to answer questions that might incriminate him.’

  ‘Nor will Felsham.’ Otto turned to look at Jake. ‘Why are we bothering to see him? It seems he had nothing to gain by Connie’s death.’

  ‘That is what we thought about Barton, until we spoke to him. Besides, he might say something that could offer us a clue. That’s what it’s like in this business, Otto. You have to follow a dozen blind allies until you see a way forward.’ The tip of Jake’s cane tapped on the pavement as they walked briskly along. ‘For all we know, Connie decided against joining his company. Barton might have assured him that she would and he’d perhaps laid out money preparing the provinces for her appearance. There will be ways to find out if he did, but it will only be worth the effort if we think he’s lying to us.’

  ‘I can see I have a lot to learn from you.’

  ‘Try to focus on the business in hand and not be swayed by your very natural concerns for Miss Larson’s feelings.’

  Otto looked astonished. ‘You believe I am becoming personally involved?’

  Jake laughed. ‘You would have to be blind and ninety if you were not. She’s very attractive, in considerable distress and would invoke the protective instincts of any gentleman worthy of the name.’

  ‘Is that why you agreed to help her?’ Otto tipped his hat to a woman walking towards them and rapidly moved out of her path before she collided with him. She neither acknowledged the gesture nor thanked him for avoiding her.

  ‘I don’t think Olivia would have let me do anything else. Not once you brought her to Grosvenor Square.’

  ‘Ah, sorry about that. I didn’t stop to think.’

  ‘No apology necessary. Chichester brought the case to our attention and provoked my curiosity. And now I am wondering whether he is the guilty party and deliberately involved me to help deflect suspicion from his door. After all, we must assume he wasn’t acquainted with Dowd and therefore not aware that he would prove to be so malleable.’

  ‘And Dowd would think twice about challenging the word of a marquess and an earl.’

  ‘Precisely.’ Jake grimaced. ‘Barton was right insofar as the upper classes do usually protect their own and make formidable foes. Anyway, I would like to know for my own satisfaction if Chichester is the guilty party, even if we can’t produce enough proof to force a prosecution.’

  ‘I understand.’

  Their conversation brought them to the doors of the rehearsal rooms of Felsham’s Repertory Company, housed in a rundown hall in a backstreet—close to the bright lights of theatre-land but a million miles removed. The walked in on a rehearsal in full swing, interrupting a full scale argument between the director and leading man.

  ‘I keep telling you, you moron, it won’t work that way!’ The actor, wrapped up in a greatcoat, with several scarves draped artistically around his neck to ward off the chill in the unheated hall, flounced across the stage. ‘Oh, for the love of God! Why won’t anyone listen to my advice? I am the only true artist in this sorry establishment.’

  ‘Calm down, Robert. You cannot steal every scene.’

  ‘Don’t bet your house on it, darling.’

  ‘Was Connie really willing to involve herself with this shambolic outfit?’ Otto asked, looking as doubtful as Jake felt. ‘Barton told us they were professional and well-respected. You could have fo
oled me.’

  ‘Who are you?’ The director turned, alerted to their presence by the sound of their whispered exchange that had been audible only due to a temporary lull in the shouting match they had interrupted. ‘We are not doing auditions today. Be off with you.’

  ‘Don’t be so hasty, darling,’ the multi-scarfed actor chided, eyeing Jake and Otto with speculative appreciation.

  ‘We are here to see Felsham,’ Jake replied curtly.

  ‘Perhaps I can help you.’ The leading man fluttered his eyes at Jake.

  ‘He’s in his office, out the back.’ The director pointed towards the door they should take and then lost interest in them. ‘But if it’s money you’re after, don’t hold your breath. Now, Robert, let’s try that again. And this time, put some passion into it.’

  Jake and Otto shared a glance as they continued their search for the elusive Felsham, both trying not to laugh. Jake’s shoulders shook with the effort it took him to hold his amusement in. Otto was not so circumspect and guffawed as soon as they moved away from the stage.

  ‘Words fail me,’ he stuttered.

  ‘Never let it be said that you don’t see all aspects of life during one of my investigations.’

  ‘Duly noted—although I have to say I wouldn’t have missed this one for the world.’

  ‘I shall remind you of your words when matters become more complex.’

  They found a minuscule office at the back of the stage—a windowless, draughty cube into which a small and remarkably ugly man had squeezed himself behind a desk that took up the majority of the space. There were papers scattered haphazardly all across its surface but the man wasn’t giving them his attention. Instead he leaned back in his chair with eyes closed, a pencil hanging limply from the fingers of one hand. Jake tapped at the glass-partitioned door, causing the man’s eyes to fly open and his feet, which had previously been resting on his desk, to hit the floor with a thump.