Death of a Scoundrel (Riley Rochester Investigates Book 4)

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Death of a Scoundrel (Riley Rochester Investigates Book 4) Page 8

by Wendy Soliman


  ‘A very good question, Jack, and one that I have been pondering upon this past half-hour. She claims she wants justice for Woodrow, and there’s no doubt in my mind that she was completely besotted with him. Even so, the instinct for self-preservation normally takes precedent in such situations. She is nobody’s fool, so perhaps it’s vengeance that she seeks. She claims her husband knew nothing of the payments she made to Woodrow, but I find that hard to accept. He already knows that he’s been cuckolded. If he thought his wife was still secretly colluding with her first love when he, Kempton, had previously overlooked her loose behaviour and offered her the respectability of his name, then who knows what lengths jealousy would drive him to?’

  ‘You think she suspects her husband?’ Salter shook his head. ‘Don’t see it myself. She must know that if he’s charged he will stand trial and most likely hang, and all the sordid details will emerge. Her reputation will never recover.’

  ‘I doubt whether she cares about that. She has enough money to live however she likes, and that money would ensure collective amnesia among those vying to step into Kempton’s shoes. She’s lost her place in society by marrying so low, so she might be hoping to recover ground the second time around. She presents as a sensitive and poised young woman, but I sense a will of iron beneath that delicate façade; a woman raised in the lap of luxury accustomed to getting whatever she wants.’ Riley sighed. ‘I wonder if she is deliberately pointing us towards her husband. He is not a member of the aristocracy, and would make a suitable sacrificial lamb. She knows very well that we will have to speak to her husband, there’s no doubt about that. And we shall do so in good time, but for now we now have other priorities.’

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘Finding Woodrow’s list of victims, naturally.’

  ‘Always supposing he kept one.’

  ‘I am sure he will have done, if only to keep track of what was due to him, when and from whom. There is also the case of his ill-gotten gains. He was paid in cash by Mrs Kempton, and by everyone else I would think. The two hundred guineas he received annually from her would have covered his living expenses with plenty left over. Assuming she was not his only source of income, he must have stashed the rest somewhere.’

  ‘We’ve searched those rooms of his, sir. The constables were most thorough, and there ain’t nothing there to find.’

  ‘We shall look again this afternoon. We didn’t know what we were looking for before. Now we will tear the place apart if necessary. Floorboards, wainscoting, the lot. I’m certain we’ve missed something.’

  ‘Aye, right enough,’ Salter said with a resigned sigh.

  Riley and Salter returned to Half Moon Street and took a bite to eat at the Half Moon before returning to Woodrow’s apartment. By the time they had done so, Peterson and Harper, loaned by the obliging Sergeant Barton, had joined them and Riley gave them their instructions.

  ‘Be methodical,’ he told them. ‘Tap on every part of the walls and floor, listen for a hollow sound and look for anything that doesn’t fit flush. Check for compartments in the furniture. This hiding place is ingenious and explains why Woodrow was so reluctant to entertain in his rooms. He didn’t want anyone else getting too familiar with his habits.’

  ‘Take those paintings off the walls to start with,’ Salter said. ‘Not sure we looked behind them before.’

  Peterson nodded and set to.

  ‘Stay and supervise, Jack. I am going to pay a call on Lord Durand. I shall return to see what you have for me once I’ve spoken with him.’

  Chapter Six

  Riley took yet another cab to Durand’s home, wondering if he had left it too late and that the earl would already be at the House of Lords. He was not, and received Riley without keeping him waiting. In his early fifties, balding and running to fat, Durand maintained had a presence that implied a great sense of purpose. Only a fool would underestimate Lord Durand’s authority, which was absolute. Riley, as a marquess’s son and his brother’s heir, was higher up in the aristocratic pecking order yet felt almost intimidated by Durand’s imposing presence.

  Almost.

  It was a long time since Riley had allowed anyone to intimidate him.

  ‘I was expecting you at some point,’ Lord Durand said by way of greeting, shaking Riley’s hand. ‘Glad to see that the ton’s gossip machine is still in good working order,’ he added with a wry suggestion of a smile.

  ‘Thank you for seeing me,’ Riley replied, taking the seat across from the earl. ‘You have heard about Woodrow, I dare say.’

  ‘I have, and I am shedding no tears, real or imaginary, at the news of his demise.’ His expression turned hard and sour. ‘The man was a leech with the morals of an alley cat.’ He clenched his fists and glowered at the opposite wall. ‘His attentions came close to turning my level-headed daughter into one of those giddy misses she had always scorned. Worse, when I pointed out to her that Woodrow was attracted by her money, she told me that she was well aware of his motives but simply didn’t care.’

  ‘If it’s any consolation, I’m told that he had that affect upon most women. I have yet to come across one who has a bad word to say for him. The majority of men, I suspect, did not approve of the lifestyle he chose, felt threatened by it and resented his easy manner with the ladies.’

  ‘Threatened?’ Lord Durand puffed out cheeks reddened with indignation. ‘The man was a damned popinjay. Never did an honest day’s work in his life, yet he lived like a king. Where’s the honour in that?’

  ‘Perhaps, but he didn’t deserve to be brutally murdered,’ Riley replied in a mild tone.

  ‘There speaks a man who doesn’t have a daughter’s interests to protect.’ Lord Durand appeared to realise that his words could be misconstrued, and hastily changed the subject. ‘The sooner we educate the whole damned female race, the sooner they’ll have more sense than to fall for the spurious charms of selfish bastards like Woodrow. Damned disgrace to his entire family, and an embarrassment too, I shouldn’t wonder. His behaviour will have done his brother William’s chances of election to the House no good, I can tell you that much. If a man can’t control his younger sibling, what chance has he of standing up for his constituents’ interests, eh? Tell me that, if you can?’

  Riley smiled. ‘One must make allowance for the romantic natures of ladies in general,’ he said, choosing to address the first part of Lord Durand’s assertion. ‘One cannot teach experience, or common sense for that matter. Lady Laura will not be the first sensible girl to have her head turned by a compelling rogue of Woodrow’s ilk.’

  Durand drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair and let out a long breath. ‘I expect you’re right about that. I thought Laura had her head screwed on and would know better than to fall for a fortune-hunter, no matter how convincing, but it seems she’s as susceptible to a little flattery as the rest of her sex.’

  ‘Does she know?’

  ‘That he’s dead?’ Riley nodded. ‘I sent a cable. Didn’t want her to read about it in the newspapers. Anyway, I suppose you know that I had a falling out with the man, and you’ve no doubt come to ask about my whereabouts at the time of the crime.’ He leaned forward, deep cervices forming in his brow as he frowned. ‘Go on then. When was he done in?’

  ‘Where were you after midnight yesterday?’

  ‘Here, working on papers until after two in the morning, preparing the speech that I shall deliver in the House this afternoon,’ Durand said, without having to think about it. But then again Riley’s visit had been anticipated, so if Durand had committed the crime he would have prepared his alibi. ‘My secretary was with me the entire time and can attest to the fact that I didn’t leave the house.’

  Riley was perfectly sure that he could. ‘What was the falling out you mentioned earlier about?’

  ‘What do you think?’

  Riley waved one hand in a gesture of apology. ‘I am not paid to think. Tell me.’

  ‘If you insist upon knowing, I took the man to task fo
r toying with Laura’s affections. He had the impertinence to laugh at me. He implied that he was not toying with her, and was serious in his intent. We both knew why, so I offered him five thousand guineas to leave her alone and never contact her again.’

  Riley let out a low whistle. ‘A goodly sum.’

  ‘I can afford it. Laura is everything to me and I knew the scoundrel would break her heart sooner rather than later.’ He let out an elongated breath. ‘But it did me no good. The damned rogue said that I couldn’t stand in the way of true love. Bah! Love indeed. Fact of the matter is, he knew I couldn’t cut Laura off completely because she has a trust fund, a substantial one left for her until she comes of age or marries, by her grandfather. The trust fund was worth more than the five thousand guineas I offered him, so Woodrow had me over a barrel and he damned well enjoyed watching me squirm.’

  ‘Be careful, Lord Durand. You make yourself sound guiltier by the minute.’

  ‘I believe in speaking the truth, Rochester, which I’m sure is what you came here in the hope of extracting from me. I didn’t kill Woodrow. I don’t even know where he lives, for that matter, but I am mighty glad he’s gone and I refuse to pretend otherwise. I overrode Laura’s protests and took her away, hoping that distancing her from him would give her time to reflect and that she would come to her senses. We discussed Woodrow’s real intentions at great length, but her interest in him didn’t wane.’ Durand sighed. ‘If he had lived, I dare say she would have broken my heart by following her own. I am very glad that his murder has eradicated that possibility, but I didn’t do the murdering.’

  ‘Very well.’ Riley stood, wondering if Durand was telling the truth or baiting him with a lie that he would never be able to disprove. ‘When will Laura return to London?’ he asked. ‘I shall have to speak with her.’

  ‘Why?’ Durand asked sharply. ‘She was hundreds of miles away when Woodrow was killed. She won’t know anything that can help you and I don’t won’t you upsetting her.’

  ‘It is not my intention to upset her, but I shall not know if she can help until I speak with her. Woodrow might have confided in her—’

  ‘He did not.’

  ‘With respect, you cannot know that. I feel persuaded that she didn’t tell you everything they discussed, especially if he swore her to secrecy. It is the sort of thing that a man of experience hoping to win the affections of a vulnerable young woman would do, if only to make her feel valued and trusted. Someone disliked Woodrow enough to brutally murder him, and she might well know who his enemies were. That is what I wish to ascertain.’

  ‘I shall not bring her back until after Christmas,’ Durand said gruffly. ‘If you need to speak to her that badly you will have to go to Yorkshire.’

  ‘I might very well do so.’

  ‘I had hoped we could resolve this vulgar business like gentlemen, Rochester,’ Durand said, sniffing.

  ‘In my experience there is nothing gentlemanly about murder, Lord Durand.’

  Riley left feeling frustrated and unsure of himself. A seasoned politician, Durand’s candour made it hard for Riley to gauge if he had just heard the truth or an elegant fiction. Durand had been canny enough to speak a great deal of truth, aware that Riley would already have heard of the animosity between him and Woodrow. He wondered if further discreet snooping on Stout’s part amongst Durand’s servants would turn up any further answers. He was willing to wager that Durand’s secretary would not have been the only person awake in that household at the critical time. There would have been a night watchman at the very least, and perhaps others, but getting those people to give an honest account, even if they could be found, was another matter entirely.

  Dispirited, he returned to Half Moon Street and received better news.

  ‘Under his bed,’ Salter said succinctly as Riley walked into Woodrow’s bedchamber and saw banknotes spread across the bed. Carter and Soames had joined the search party and were busy counting their find. ‘Right ingenious, he was,’ Salter added. ‘We’d almost given up when Peterson pushed the bed aside and we found it. The bed leg sat right on top of a loose board so that Jessie wouldn’t have noticed it even if she swept under the bed.’

  ‘He had been industrious,’ Riley replied, eyeing the piles of money. ‘Count it carefully, Carter, and bag it. We will take it back to Scotland Yard until it can be returned to Woodrow’s next of kin. I am more interested in any records that he kept. Did you find anything useful, Salter?’

  ‘We did, sir.’ He brandished a notebook triumphantly above his head. ‘Dates and initials and sums noted by the side of each.’

  Riley nodded briskly, grateful to have something to get his teeth into. ‘Well done, Jack.’

  ‘Wonder what he intended to do with the loot,’ Salter mused, rubbing his chin contemplatively. ‘There’s enough here for him to purchase a modest property and still have plenty left. Or he could have invested it and earned a goodly rate of interest. That would have been safer than stashing it here. It’s perplexing, is what it is. I ain’t never seen so much dosh in one place before.’

  ‘His killer obviously didn’t know he had it, so the motive wasn’t money,’ Carter said. ‘Otherwise he would have turned the place upside down looking for it.’

  ‘I’m thinking he was going to need the blunt and need it soon for some purpose or other,’ Salter said, ‘so he had to keep it close by.’

  ‘I am more interested in these initials.’ Riley flipped through the notebook that Salter had passed to him. ‘I keep wondering why Lady Eldridge and Mrs Cowley gave him references when he took this tenancy. Now I suspect that they were both donating to his retirement fund as well.’ He pointed to initials that corresponded to those ladies’ names. ‘He wasn’t that greedy. He made do with twenty guineas a quarter from each of them.’

  ‘Right good of him,’ Salter said, sniffing.

  ‘We will speak with those ladies tomorrow.’ Riley frowned when he saw another entry that interested him. ‘We will also speak with William Woodrow, at Scotland Yard. Look.’

  He tapped the page that had caught his attention and Salter looked over his shoulder. ‘Someone with his brother’s initials paid him thirty guineas a quarter. Could it really be, sir? He blackmailed his own brother.’

  ‘It would explain why William seemed less than upset by his brother’s demise, and why he so bitterly opposed his lifestyle. It was nothing to do with his womanising and everything to do with his tendency towards blackmail. If I’m right then not only did Rod know something that could derail William’s political ambitions but William also knew that if his brother’s behaviour ever came to light then he, William, would also be ruined.’ Riley tapped the notebook against his thigh. ‘Oh yes, we need to have a frank exchange with William in the very near future.’

  ‘I’ve identified six different sets of initials,’ Salter said. ‘The one who paid the most is Mrs Kempton, and she was the first. He obviously warmed to the idea when she so willingly paid him. He realised how easy it was, and his business developed from there.’

  ‘Two of them stopped paying him over a year ago,’ Riley said, pointing out two sets of initials and payments with lines drawn through them. ‘That leaves us with William, Mrs Kempton and the other two. I’m sure they are the ladies who supplied his references. Durand is also a prime suspect, to say nothing of the connections to the ladies who paid him regularly—husbands, brothers and so forth. If any of them found out, who’s to say what they would have done to avoid their family becoming embroiled in a scandal? I would like to find out the identities of the two he crossed out—a DC and MB—but they are not a priority.’

  ‘What now then, sir?’

  ‘Anything else in that hidey-hole?’

  ‘No, sir, just the cash and the book.’

  ‘Right then, time’s getting on. Let’s go back to the Yard and decide upon our activities for tomorrow.’

  Riley learned from Salter that Maud Ogden hadn’t been seen with Woodrow at the Theatre Royal, whic
h effectively cleared her of suspicion. Riley thanked his detectives for their efforts and sent them home. He then found the superintendent and Danforth closeted together and reported to them both at once.

  ‘Sounds like you’ve unearthed a bit of a hornet’s nest, Rochester,’ Thompson said, not unsympathetically.

  ‘I am drowning in suspects, sir, I can’t deny it,’ Riley replied with a wry smile. ‘Lord Durand and Kempton are top of my list, as is William Woodrow. Of course, once I have established the identities of the other people he was blackmailing and what he held against them, I will have a clearer picture of who had the most to lose if Woodrow betrayed their secrets.’

  ‘How on earth will you do that?’ Danforth asked, failing to completely hide the fact that he relished the idea of Riley failing. ‘Mrs Kempton admitted her involvement, but I doubt if the others will.’

  ‘Time will tell,’ Riley replied, refusing to be rattled by Danforth’s lack of faith in his abilities. ‘I shall be having a frank discussion with William Woodrow tomorrow, and I shall also look more closely at Mrs Kempton’s affairs and those of her husband. I have a feeling that she is attempting to manipulate me.’

  ‘We’ll leave it in your capable hands, Rochester,’ Thompson said. ‘Let me know if you require additional resources. With so many suspects, it seems you might need them.’

  Riley thanked them and took himself home, keen to seen Amelia and dine with his old friends, Jake and Olivia Morton, the Earl and Countess of Torbay. Jake had once run a band of aristocratic vigilantes who frequently righted wrongs that would otherwise have gone unavenged. It was his interest in law and order and the scandal that had once threatened to engulf Riley’s family that had brought Jake to Riley’s attention when he had still been at Eton.

  Jake had encouraged Riley’s interest in law enforcement and paid him the ultimate compliment by saying that his vigilantes were surplus to requirements now that Scotland Yard had a dedicated detective department. Riley sometimes discussed his ongoing cases with Jake, secure in the knowledge that his discretion was absolute. His old mentor often came up with advice and suggestions that had not occurred to Riley.

 

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