by Issy Brooke
Theodore watched them go with a pang of jealousy. He wanted to be the active one, striding around London, making enquiries. He harboured a few doubts as to whether Adelia would be successful. There were places she could not go, after all. But on the other hand, she could gain access to people’s hearts in a way that he could not.
He put it out of his mind, and went to latch himself onto Inspector Prendergast’s side once more.
PRENDERGAST WAS IN Theodore’s study, his head resting on his fist, staring glumly at an open book. When Theodore entered, he sat up straight very quickly and adjusted his face to a pleasant smile.
“Is everything all right?” Theodore asked.
“Yes, of course.”
“You seemed to be troubled.”
“No, no. Not at all.”
“So what is your line of questioning today?”
Prendergast closed the book and wobbled his head from side to side. “I thought that we might try to recreate the movements of each person that night, and in particular, to involve the servants, as this might jog people’s memories.”
Theodore was about to ask quite what he hoped to achieve by this – it seemed to be a shot in the dark and highly unlikely to do a thing – when someone tapped on the door and slid into the study. It was George Montgomery, and he pulled the door firmly closed behind him.
“Gentlemen, might I have a word?” he said in a low voice.
“Please, do sit down.”
Montgomery was already on a chair, hunching forward to speak in an urgent whisper. “Look, I feel like a backstabber of the very worst kind in doing this, but I really cannot keep silent. It’s about Pegsworth. Lady Calaway has jogged my mind about a few things. Raised a few concerns, if you will.”
“Alfred Pegsworth,” Inspector Prendergast said, opening the book and sitting poised with a pencil in his hand.
“Yes. Sorry,” he added, shooting a glance at Theodore. “He’s your brother-in-law and everything, I know. But he was actually closer to Halifax than either of us were. Froude and I are the main part of the business and we always have been. Halifax should never have been involved. And Pegsworth – well, Halifax must have had some kind of strange hold over Pegsworth to bring him into the business, even on the periphery. I thought about it last night. We did not need him.”
“With respect, sir, that does not make sense,” Prendergast said. “Mr Halifax must have had a hold over Mr Froude – or you – to be able to bring himself into the business and indeed to give work to Mr Pegsworth. Especially as both of you are so clearly unwilling to admit that either Halifax or Pegsworth bring anything valuable to the business.”
“I say, no, you’ve got it the wrong way round,” Montgomery said in alarm.
“If you and Mr Froude are indeed in charge then it is only on your say-so that others can be admitted. Therefore, what did Mr Halifax really say to convince you both that Mr Pegsworth was a good addition? Were you not already unhappy with Mr Halifax’s role? Why, then, compound the problem by involving yet another potentially unsatisfactory individual? I am perfectly happy to accept that Mr Pegsworth was not a good addition in any capacity and brings nothing of real worth except to carry some bags and sharpen some chisels. So why on earth did you agree to it?”
Theodore listened closely. It baffled him, too.
“I – well, the final decision was not up to me, as it happens.”
“Who was it up to? Was it Mr Froude’s decision alone?”
Montgomery was very pale. He said, “Yes. Yes, it was. He has always been in charge, in ultimate control. I confess I was surprised about it. But I don’t think there’s anything sinister or untoward in it...he misjudged the need, that is all.”
Is he lying? Theodore wondered and he watched closely. If the decision was Froude’s to bring Pegsworth in, and Montgomery had no say in it, what had caused Froude to accept a man he did not like?
“I cannot believe this,” Prendergast said, voicing Theodore’s thoughts. “Perhaps it was a case of blackmail? Bribery? The hiding of secrets? Some pressure being applied? Some repayment of a debt? I can think of many reasons to bring both Mr Halifax and Mr Pegsworth into the business and none of them are to do with the expertise of either gentleman.”
“Now look here, sir! I find such insinuations deeply insulting. It is Pegsworth you need to be concerned about – not me, sir! Ask Pegsworth himself to explain how he came to be so close with Halifax. It is Halifax and his hold over Froude you need to examine.”
“We have done.”
“Well, ask him again, and look a little more closely, for he was sure to have been lying to you the first time you asked!”
Theodore tried to organise it all in his head. So, Mr Montgomery had brought Mr Halifax into the business. And it was now claimed that Mr Froude brought Mr Pegsworth in, at Mr Halifax’s behest. But Montgomery and Halifax had been in business before – hadn’t they?
Theodore could not hold his tongue. He said, “Speaking of lies, there is something else you have said that...”
“Excuse me?”
“No, perhaps not lies – well, perhaps untruths – well, I mean to say, certain withholdings of the truth...” Theodore said, making things worse with each utterance. Montgomery went from pale grey to puce as he stared at Theodore.
“What?” he barked out. “Speaking of what lies? Now what are you accusing me of doing?”
“I do not mean to say lies, as such,” Theodore said. “It is only that some things have been said by you yourself that have later been contradicted.”
“By whom? Pegsworth?”
“No, by yourself. You told us that you had been in business with Halifax yourself before this particular venture. Yet you said to my wife that this was not the case. Therefore one or the other was a lie.”
Montgomery was struck silent for a moment.
Theodore waited. Inspector Prendergast looked up from his notes, his pencil hovering over the paper.
Montgomery cleared his throat. “For a start, I do not consider anything I might have said to your good lady wife either of interest to the police or to you, sir. You know yourself that when one converses with the fairer sex, one naturally censors what one says. One cannot have the same range or depth of conversation with them as one might with a man; that is in deference to their more limited intellectual capabilities and also to their sensitivities. Therefore, not a word I might have said to any woman can possibly be seen as any kind of an admission.”
It was lucky for him that Adelia was not present. Theodore felt there were half a dozen holes in the educated man’s argument but before he could challenge them, Montgomery went on. “Secondly, and while I do not doubt your good intentions, Inspector Prendergast, nor your expertise as a policeman, I am beginning to question your experience as regards your efforts in this particular matter. The investigation drags, sir; it lags and we can see no progress. Yet there is evidence before my very eyes that Pegsworth is the guilty party! Did you not see him earlier, at breakfast?”
“I did,” Prendergast said.
“You saw him? But what did you notice about him? Did you really see him – see the change in him?”
Prendergast shook his head. “Why don’t you enlighten me, sir,” he said thickly.
“He was wearing a new suit! From where did he obtain this suit?”
“No doubt he sent for it from town. Though I have requested you all to remain here, I have not prevented any of you from corresponding freely.”
“Very well, he had it sent here from town – but how? How did he pay for it? A week ago, the man was shabby, scruffy and a disgrace, sir. Now he is dressed as finely as any gentleman!”
“I recall a sober dark suit this morning. It did not reek of finery.”
“But it was brand new. What was taken from Halifax’s room, gentlemen?”
“We cannot say.”
“Let me tell you, then. Money! Halifax ought to have had some cash in his possession – where is it?”
&nbs
p; Theodore looked over at Prendergast. No mention had been made of money or cash; either its presence or its absence had not been noted.
Prendergast registered neither surprise nor annoyance. He made a small mark in his book. “I shall look into the matter.”
Such calm aloofness seemed calculated to send Montgomery into a frenzy. “There is another thing, sir! While I accept the need for us to remain here as you investigate – if, indeed, you call this investigating – surely those restrictions apply to us all equally?”
“Indeed they do.”
Theodore felt his mouth go dry.
“Yet Lady Calaway has left this morning, has she not?”
Prendergast nearly snapped the lead of his pencil’s nib. He put it down and intertwined his fingers, resting his hands on the book. “Lord Calaway, is this true?”
“Ah – she – she has gone to visit relatives. As she is not a suspect in the case, she did not feel bound by the request to remain here.”
Prendergast spoke very firmly. “It was not a request.”
Theodore felt very uncomfortable now that the spotlight was on him. He shifted in his chair and turned to Montgomery.
But Montgomery was in no mood to have the focus return to him. He stood up and left abruptly, without saying another word.
“How rude,” Theodore said.
“That you allowed your wife to leave?” Prendergast said. “Yes. I am very disappointed, sir. Relatives, you say?”
“Ah – yes. I am sorry. We did not think it would do any harm.”
“Yet, as you can see, it has. Such frivolous disregard for my authority sows dissent in what I already an increasingly difficult case.”
Theodore squirmed. Where had his deferential younger protégé gone? He felt as if he were being dressed down by a schoolmaster. “It should not be so difficult a case, though,” he replied, sounding sulky even to his own ears. “Get them under oath and force the truth from them! One of them did it. What about this money? What are we going to do about that?”
“We?” said Inspector Prendergast.
With a sinking feeling, Theodore realised that they were no longer working as a team.
“Which relatives, exactly? Where has Lady Calaway gone?”
Theodore knew he could not lie without it showing on his face. “To see our daughter Charlotte.”
“And where does Miss Charlotte live now? I have a vague recollection of her, but I confess I cannot keep up with the movements of all seven.”
Miserably, Theodore said, “London. Adelia has gone to London.”
“To see Charlotte?”
“To see Charlotte.” Theodore winced as Inspector Prendergast held his gaze for a few seconds longer than was comfortable.
Then he broke the tension, picking up his pencil once more and looking down at his book. “I see,” he said, and made a note. “Thank you, Lord Calaway. Good day.”
Theodore knew that he was dismissed. He slunk away in a fog of shame.
Eleven
“Really, it is most inconvenient,” Adelia said in annoyance as they stood on the corner of Brook Street in London, staring up at the shuttered façade of Claridge’s Hotel. They had travelled mostly by train and their early start from home meant it was still only mid-afternoon. “No wonder the cab driver sniggered as he set us down. He really ought to have told us.”
“He should have. What a pig,” Edith said. “I suppose we must find a different place. When did it close? Is this permanent? How was one supposed to know about this? I deplore this kind of inefficiency.”
“I have no idea when it happened. It must surely have been in the papers. It was open last year – Harriet stayed here and wrote to me raving about the way the maids folded the sheets or some such nonsense.”
They hailed another cab and this time managed to book themselves into the Savoy. At first the hotel claimed to have no spare rooms but when Lady Calaway told them who she was, a suite was miraculously found. They also discovered that Claridge’s had just been bought by the same person who owned the Savoy and was going to be refurbished to return it to its glory days of the sixties.
“I confess I really do get shaken about a bit by how much London continually changes,” Adelia said as they settled into their rooms on the third floor. They weren’t lucky enough to have a view of the Thames but at least they had newly installed electric lighting and hot water that gushed directly from the taps in the bathrooms. The luxury was dizzying.
Edith seemed sunk deep in thought. Adelia began to repeat herself, but Edith said, “Yes – mama – I heard you. I was thinking that someone ought to do something about it.”
“About London?”
“No, about how one obtains information about London. Or trips in general. How one makes plans. There is so much to consider.”
“Those fossil men have inspired you, have they?”
“Perhaps.”
“Tell me more!”
Edith waved her hand crossly. “Oh, there is nothing to tell. Stop plaguing me, mama. It was an idle thought, nothing more. An ill-formed whim. Now, I have written to Lottie, but I must send her a new note to let her know where we are staying.”
Adelia and Smith set about unpacking for their stay while Edith sat on the bed, her skirts spread out around her so she could fold her legs underneath like she was still a child. She scribbled a note while resting on a book in her lap and had it folded into an envelope before Adelia could see what she had written.
AT AROUND FOUR O’CLOCK, Adelia and Edith left Smith behind, and sallied forth into the cold grey streets of London. Adelia had spoken with the staff on duty at the desk and had only had to wait fifteen minutes before they returned with the information she had requested.
“This is the advantage of a superior hotel,” Adelia said to Edith, waving the notepaper at her as they left. “You can ask them for simply anything at all, and they will find it out for you.”
“So you asked them who the murderer was?”
“No, but I would if I thought it would help. No; here are the addresses of a number of the most celebrated and respected private enquiry agents in London, ranked in order of importance. We shall, of course, begin at the top.”
“So you and papa are retiring and asking someone else to step in?”
“No, no. Use your brain. Why do you think we are here?”
Edith sighed but then she said, “Ah, I see. You need to find out about Mr Montgomery, his relationship to the university, and his previous business with Mr Halifax, don’t you? It is much quicker for you to engage someone in London who already has contacts here.”
“Exactly so. And here we are. I do hope Mr Nett has time to see us and that he hasn’t gone home for the day.”
She knocked, they were admitted, and within moments of explaining to the young man in the alarmingly mustard-coloured suit on the front desk, they had been ushered into Mr Nett’s own office. Once again, her title had opened doors.
It was a pleasant, modern sort of room, with large windows that overlooked a small yard with trees and grass and benches. Mr Nett rose to greet them. He was incredibly old, very thin, and his face was a mass of lines, folds and wrinkles. Adelia was surprised, but she thought she hid her expression well.
She had not.
He laughed and urged them to sit down, offering them tea or cold drinks which they both declined. He said, “Lady Calaway, I am delighted to make your acquaintance; and Lady Ivery, too. What a pleasure. And yes, I am older than dirt itself, which is a great advantage, I can assure you.”
Adelia smiled but Edith burst out with, “In what way is it an advantage, sir?”
He did not seem affronted at all. “I’ve seen it all. I was in the police, as a detective, for many years. I went past retirement age but could not bear to give it up. I’ve dedicated my life to the solving of crimes and I can’t imagine how else I could possibly fill my days.”
“You come highly recommended by the staff of the Savoy.”
“Indeed?
That is pleasing to hear. Now, how might I be of assistance to you?”
“I need to find out all the history of a man named George Montgomery.”
His eyes crinkled in amusement. “A man’s history would fill many books. Might you be more specific?”
She trusted him, and he was recommended. She took a deep breath, and told him everything.
EDITH DID NOT WANT to spend the last hour of the afternoon shopping. She insisted that they go to a museum and then asked if they might simply walk along the embankment, looking at the buildings and exploring the history of the city, lit by gas and even electric. The sun had already set. Adelia agreed, not that she was as interested in the sights as Edith was, but because she was pleased to be able to spend some time with her daughter. But it was hard to make conversation, at least at first. Adelia made an effort to listen to what Edith wanted to talk about, and to show an interest. It was easier to simply ask a leading question and then listen without comment.
“You spent a great deal of time looking around the room when we were in Mr Nett’s office,” Adelia said.
“Oh, mama, don’t start...”
“No! No, I was not going to berate you. What interested you?”
“Nothing, really. His filing system, that’s all.”
Adelia resisted the urge to say something belittling about how someone could possibly be interested by a filing system. She forced herself to see it from Edith’s point of view. “Yes, he had many cabinets and cupboards, didn’t he?”
