Death of a Footman (Riley Rochester Investigates Book 8)

by Wendy Soliman

  ‘Leave it to me, sir.’

  ‘The rest of you, write up your reports. One of you needs to call in at the Reform Club and check that Gideon did actually dine there on the night of the murder.’

  ‘I can do that one, sir,’ Carter offered.

  ‘Good. Try and pin the doorman down to his arrival and departure times. You’ll probably find that he remembers.’

  ‘Will do, sir.’

  ‘Right, gentlemen. A good day’s work. We’re making progress, even if we do have more suspects than we started the day with.’

  ‘Better than having none at all, which is what usually happens,’ Salter said, reaching for his hat.

  ‘I wish you all a good evening,’ Riley said, ushering them from his room.

  Riley spent another hour reading reports, signing off various requests relating to other cases and then, glancing at the clock, realised this would be the best time to catch Buckingham. He acknowledged Sergeant Barton as he left Scotland Yard and since the weather was fine, took the decision to walk the mile to White’s Club in St. James’s Street. He reflected as he strode along that the club, the last word in gentlemen’s exclusivity, was an establishment in which he had grilled more than one aristocratic witness or suspect. He chuckled, thinking that the ruling body would take a dim view if they knew, and probably accuse him of lowering the tone.

  He arrived at his destination and acknowledged the porter, who took his hat and gloves. Riley climbed the stairs to the main body of the club and found his quarry ensconced in a lively discussion with several other members that sounded as though it was in danger of becoming heated.

  ‘Rochester.’ Buckingham raised a hand when he saw Riley and detached himself from the squabbling throng. ‘I thought I might have the pleasure of a visit.’

  ‘It would have saved time if you’d come to me,’ Riley replied on a note of mild censure.

  ‘What, and risk being clapped in irons?’ Buckingham laughed. ‘No one’s ever accused me of having courage.’

  Riley smiled. ‘Have you done anything to require being locked away and left to rot?’

  ‘Can’t expect me to condemn myself with my own words,’ Buckingham replied, oozing an air of confidence as he and Riley took facing wingback chairs in a quiet corner. A steward approached them and Riley ordered whisky for them both. There was no reason that this interview, for want of a better description, shouldn’t be conducted in a civilized manner. Riley didn’t have much time for Buckingham, whom he considered to be lazy and self-indulgent, but he had yet to establish whether or not he had broken the law.

  ‘Tell me about Ezra Dawson,’ Riley invited when their drinks had been delivered and tasted and the steward had withdrawn. ‘How did your path cross with that of a footman?’

  Buckingham leaned back in his chair and chuckled. ‘He was more than just a footman to Ida, but then I don’t suppose I’m telling you something that you don’t already know. Ida is nothing if not honest and forthright.’

  ‘She is also devastated by his loss.’

  Buckingham’s smile abruptly faded. ‘I am sure she is. The old girl seemed to have a genuine soft spot for this one. And it was Ida who introduced us, as it happens.’

  Riley flexed a brow. ‘She went out and about with Ezra, openly?’

  ‘No, she wasn’t quite that brazen. I called at the house one day, saw him there, recognised the affection they obviously had for each other and read between the lines. I’m aware of Ida’s taste for younger men. I asked her and she didn’t deny it.’

  ‘Were you and Ida once on intimate terms?’ Riley waved a hand by way of apology. ‘Wouldn’t ordinarily ask. None of my damned business.’

  ‘Is it germane to your enquiry?’

  ‘Absolutely no idea.’

  ‘Well, I don’t mind you knowing that I fell for her hard when we were both young. Didn’t behave well. Despoiled her, I suppose you’d say, but I fully intended to marry her. Never doubt it. But the pater had other ideas. Wouldn’t countenance the thought of his only son and heir marrying beneath himself and forced us apart. There was a bit of a ruckus when her father discovered that she was no longer a virgin. He descended upon our ancestral home and insisted that I do the right thing by her, which I would gladly have done, but Father was having none of it.’

  ‘He knew you had compromised the girl and didn’t care?’ Riley asked, raising a brow.

  ‘Awful, isn’t it? If she’d been one of us then it either wouldn’t have happened or I would have had to fall on my sword, so to speak. Father said the girl had no class and had led me on. I was underage at the time and I couldn’t disobey him. We argued furiously, but I wouldn’t have defied him to the degree that I’d have eloped with Ida. Well, we’ve all had responsibility drilled into us. The importance of family honour and all that.’ Buckingham shifted in his seat. ‘It wasn’t my finest hour, I’ll grant you.’

  ‘How did word get out and spoil Ida’s reputation?’

  Buckingham spread his hands. ‘I honestly have no idea. A rogue servant probably sold the information on for profit, it got distorted, unspecific rumours abounded and Ida ended up being shunned, poor girl. But she didn’t blame me and we’ve remained friends ever since.’

  ‘You met Ezra at Portman Square,’ Riley prompted, ‘and struck up a friendship with him.’ Riley sipped at his drink, frowning. ‘Seems unlikely.’

  Buckingham shrugged, looking embarrassed, which is when the penny dropped.

  ‘You went round to Ida hoping for a loan,’ Riley said softly. ‘But she didn’t oblige you on this occasion, even though she’d done so in the past.’

  ‘What can I say?’ Buckingham spread his hands. ‘Living the life of the idle aristocrat in London, keeping up appearances, is expensive.’

  Riley refrained from pointing out that he could work for a living. Lending his patronage to any number of enterprises would see a decent return for little or no effort, but presumably he thought that was beneath his dignity.

  ‘Go on,’ Riley said, signalling to the steward to bring them refills.

  ‘Ezra cornered me on the way out, told me he had a scheme that could make us both a mint.’

  ‘His sporting club?’

  ‘Right. He had the premises sorted, everything planned, but he needed someone of my ilk to persuade people from our walk of life to frequent the place.’

  ‘And you agreed?’ Riley asked, mentally amending his previous reflection about Buckingham’s standards. ‘You really must be desperate.’

  The steward returned, removed their empty glasses and placed fresh ones on side tables. Riley thanked him and he drifted silently away again.

  ‘He’d thought it through, and Ida was willing to back it—which is how I know she was really sweet on the lad, given the sum involved. And the more I looked into it, the more convinced I became that it would work.’

  ‘I assume Ezra had no intention of applying for the appropriate permits.’

  ‘Oh, I am absolutely sure it would all have been above board,’ Buckingham said, grinning broadly. ‘It would have worked too. Our lot might think themselves a cut above, but all men are equal when it comes to watching two bruisers knocking the hell out of each other. A good fight is a great leveller. Cut me and I bleed, same as the local milkman. Anyway, the opportunity died with Ezra. Bit of a shame, really.’

  ‘Leaving Ida in need of a shoulder to cry on,’ Riley said, not attempting to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

  Buckingham treated Riley to the suggestion of an indolent smile as he casually crossed one leg over the opposite knee and leaned back in his chair, sipping his drink. ‘I shall call and express my condolences after a suitable period, naturally, but her tastes run to the younger man nowadays.’

  Riley shook his head. ‘Be careful, or I might start thinking you removed an obstacle to rekindling Ida’s affections.’

  ‘Well I didn’t. Mother dragged me to a dreary dinner at home on the evening he was killed. Have to toe the family line occa
sionally. I didn’t leave the place. Ask anyone who was there.’

  ‘What can you tell me about one Reggie Lane—who, I’m told, has gambling in Clapham and its environs in his pocket? A tough individual who doesn’t take kindly to outsiders poaching on his patch.’

  ‘He’s a most obliging gent,’ Buckingham said, clearly enjoying Riley’s surprise.

  ‘You have met him?’

  ‘He and Ezra were thick as the thieves they undoubtedly were—before they became reformed characters, naturally.’

  ‘Oh, naturally.’

  ‘Lane relished the idea of relieving what he described as “us toffs” of a few guineas, and he gave Ezra’s plans the seal of approval on the condition that Ezra financed it himself. Or more to the point, Ida did, although I’ll give Ezra his due, he kept the lady’s name out of things. Lane would provide the necessary protection and prevent the place from being raided by Johnny Law in exchange for ten per cent of the profits.’ Buckingham lifted one shoulder. ‘Easy money if you can get it.’

  ‘How did Ezra know Lane?’

  ‘As I understand it, they grew up together, getting into scrapes on the streets of Clapham. Lane’s a good few years older than Ezra, but he obviously recognised an entrepreneur in the making in the younger lad even back then.’

  ‘Well, thank you. You’ve been most enlightening,’ Riley said, draining his glass and standing. ‘But a word to the wise. Don’t get it into your head to take over from Ezra and try to get Ida to finance the venture. I know where the premises are, they will be raided and the owners will be prosecuted if it’s an illegal establishment. Ida doesn’t deserve to be dragged into such a tawdry business.’ Buckingham’s face flushed, and Riley knew that was precisely what he had intended to do, probably playing upon Ida’s affection for Ezra to keep her involved. ‘I trust I’ve made myself clear. Good evening to you.’

  ‘What’s good about it now?’ Buckingham muttered to Riley’s retreating back.

  Riley made his way home, ruminating upon Buckingham’s surprising revelations, not doubting that they were true. It would be interesting to learn whether Salter had picked up any information about Lane attempting to break away from his working class roots and graduate to fleecing the upper classes too.

  Norris opened the door to him when Riley arrived back at Eaton Square and took his hat and gloves.

  ‘Evening, Norris. Is Lady Riley back from her day’s jaunt?’

  ‘She is in the garden, my lord.’

  Riley found Amelia sitting on a bench at the side of the lawn, watching Simon crawling about, already attempting to pull himself upright by grasping Amelia’s skirts. She heard Riley approaching and turned to smile at him but Bruno got to him first, bounding up to have his ears tugged.

  ‘There you are,’ she said, as Riley dispensed affection to the dog and then leaned over to kiss his wife. ‘Just in time to watch your son attempting to take his first steps.’

  Simon promptly fell on his bottom, making his proud parents laugh.

  ‘How was your day?’ Amelia asked.

  ‘Baffling. I hope yours was better.’

  ‘Much better, I’m sure,’ she said, watching Riley as he scooped his son into his arms and tossed him in the air. ‘But now that you are here we shall go back inside. I dare say you are ready for a drink, even though I can smell that you have already had one.’

  ‘All in the line of duty, I can assure you.’

  She laughed. ‘How tedious your duty must sometimes seem.’

  Riley carried Simon inside and handed him over to Agnes, who disappeared upstairs with her charge cradled in her arms.

  ‘What did the family think of Ashdown?’ Riley asked, pouring his own whisky without bothering to ring and have Norris do it for him.

  ‘Your sister and Sophia were enchanted. I think your mother was too, but she doesn’t know how to express her pleasure, since she is too accustomed to disapproving of everything. Anyway, I shall have a willing helper in Sophia when it comes to redecorating and furnishing. She is bursting with ideas.’

  ‘I don’t doubt it for a moment, but don’t allow her to wear you out.’

  ‘Oh, she won’t.’

  ‘I’m glad they approve,’ Riley said, sitting beside his wife and sipping his drink. ‘Is Stout here?’

  ‘No. He received a message when we got back and rushed off somewhere to do something for you. Now tell me how you got on today.’

  Riley told Amelia a little about the business that had occupied him, but in truth he was looking forward to a quiet dinner with just his wife for company, putting all thoughts of murder and avarice from his mind.

  Stout returned just after Riley had gone up to change.

  ‘You have news for me, Stout?’ Riley asked, pausing in the act of washing his face.

  ‘I have made progress, my lord. I received a message from a young man who knows just about everything there is to know about every senior servant in London. No skeletons remain in cupboards for long when he rattles the doors. Not sure how he does it, but there you have it. Anyway, I have utilised his services on your behalf in the past, and although he isn’t cheap, his information is always reliable.’

  ‘Don’t worry about the cost,’ Riley said, drying his face and hands on the towel that Stout handed to him, wondering why he felt the constant need to pay for information that led to convictions out of his own pocket. Money, he knew, that would not be forthcoming from the Yard’s funds without applications being submitted in triplicate together with countersigned receipts, and perhaps not even then. Riley wondered if the explanation lay in the fact that his determination to prove the detective department’s worth had not yet diminished. Then again perhaps it was pride, or pig-headedness on his part, since he disliked being outwitted by murderers. Either way, the money barely signified. He wouldn’t feel its loss, so he put it down to charitable inclination. ‘Just tell me what you discovered.’

  ‘Gregg’s mother worked for Sir Philip’s father as a housemaid, my lord.’

  ‘And let me guess,’ Riley said, rolling his eyes. ‘Gregg was the result of the master’s depravity.’

  ‘Precisely so.’

  ‘Is Gregg aware that he and Sir Philip are half-siblings?’

  ‘I think Gregg knows, but whether or not Sir Philip does I cannot say.’

  Riley paused to think about it. ‘I rather think that he must do, Stout. Lady Randall purchased the house in Portman Square with her own money and employed all the servants bar Gregg. My understanding is that Sir Philip took no interest in whom she appointed but insisted upon Gregg being offered the position of butler. It would also explain Gregg’s devotion to his master and his thinly-veiled disapproval of Lady Randall’s behaviour.’

  ‘I am told that Gregg wields absolute control over all the servants in that household. That I know is the duty of a butler, but there are ways of going about it. Ruling by fear is not, in my view, advisable. It implies weakness of character or lack of self-confidence.’

  ‘Yes, I got the impression that he’s a law unto himself. I didn’t take to the man. Anyway, if Sir Philip had wanted rid of Ezra, I’m sure he could depend upon Gregg to see to the matter,’ Riley said pensively. ‘Thank you, Stout. You’ve helped a lot.’

  ‘Glad to oblige, my lord.’

  Over dinner, Riley told Amelia about Maureen Salter’s hat design being chosen to feature at the big charitable event.

  ‘Olivia and I are attending that show,’ Amelia said. ‘Olivia is on the committee. I am sure Sergeant Salter must be very proud of his daughter’s achievements.’

  ‘He is, but Maureen needs someone significant to model her design. Do you think Cabbage would oblige?’

  Amelia laughed. ‘It’s precisely the sort of thing she would excel at.’

  ‘That’s what I thought. Mother won’t approve, of course.’

  ‘It’s a charitable affair, and the height of respectability. She cannot possibly object. Give me details of Maureen’s workplace and I will take
Sophia to meet her.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Riley briefly covered Amelia’s hand. ‘I knew I could depend upon you.’

  ‘Always, my love,’ Amelia replied, regarding Riley with an expression of such utter adoration as to turn his mind along a very different path than that of murders, milliners and multifarious misdeeds.

  Chapter Seven

  Riley was at his desk early the next morning, using the lull before the others arrived to complete outstanding paperwork—which appeared, as always, to have multiplied overnight. He then read the reports that his detectives had completed before leaving the previous evening, shaking his head over Soames’s atrocious spelling. He had barely put his pen aside before Salter arrived, rainwater dripping from the brim of the hat that he held in his hand.

  ‘Morning, Jack. Didn’t know it was raining.’

  ‘It started the moment I got off the omnibus, just like always,’ Salter replied gloomily.

  ‘A little rain won’t hurt you. Besides, we need it.’

  ‘Worried about your garden, are you, sir?’ Salter asked. ‘Would be nice to have nothing more serious to be concerned about.’

  ‘Careful, Sergeant,’ Riley warned mildly.

  ‘Sorry, sir, not feeling myself this morning. My lad wants to go to sea. Goodness alone knows where that idea came from, but we had a right set to last night as I disabused him of the notion. He’s probably been sold a romantic version of the brutal truth, and now he’s got this idea firmly planted in his head that he wants to see the world. His mother’s beside herself, which means I get no peace either.’

  Riley offered up a sympathetic smile. ‘Being a father is clearly not easy.’

  ‘Well, you won’t have to worry about your offspring struggling to make their way in the world, will you, sir?’

  ‘I will pretend I didn’t hear that, Jack.’