Justin’s glance sharpened. ‘Could you possibly contrive, dearest godmama, to recall the exact words? I have the persuasion that they may be important.’
She puzzled over this request for a few moments but eventually managed to do as he asked.
‘Ah!’ he exclaimed. ‘And what impression did his words make upon you, may I ask?’
‘A vastly uncomfortable one, I declare, for he made it sound as if this person Thompson were among our own group, which would be complete nonsense! But that is the way in which Yarnton goes — I should say used to go — to work. His aim was ever to make people uncomfortable — what a dreadful epitaph for a man!’
‘Indeed it is. You didn’t mention the reactions of Velmond’s friend, Bradfield, and the secretary to Cleveland. Perhaps you hadn’t time to notice?’
She creased her brows again in an effort of recollection.
‘I believe young Peyton frowned,’ she said at last, ‘though whether in puzzlement or disapproval, I couldn’t say. As for Mr Bradfield, come to think of it, he appeared slightly amused. But then, most people were amused by Yarnton.’
‘Hm.’ It was Justin’s turn to consider what had been reported to him. ‘So three people at least seem to have betrayed some reaction to the mention of this mysterious Thompson,’ he said. ‘Could there be any connection between those three beyond the bounds of mere acquaintance, do you know? For instance, is Lucilla Velmond on friendly terms with either the Clevelands or with Lady Kinver, or both?’
‘Oh, no, I’m certain of that. She met them for the first time at that soirée. Indeed, she was telling me how little acquaintance she possesses as yet in London. The only person she spoke of knowing at all was your niece, Anthea.’
‘Anthea! Ha, better and better!’ exclaimed Justin. ‘I think we shall go on a deal more quickly once we clear this little mystery of Lady Velmond’s out of the way, and Anthea’s the very girl to tackle that.’
‘What is your interest in Lady Velmond?’ asked Anthea Rutherford with a quizzical glance of her extremely fine dark eyes. ‘Do you wish me to help you seduce her?’
He regarded her severely. ‘If your mama had any notion of the low moral tone of your discourse, she would pack you off to the country with a strict chaperone,’ he warned her.
‘Oh, fustian! I think she would merely say that I’m distressingly like you — something which I’m quite accustomed to hearing whenever my conduct deviates from what is considered proper.’
‘Let us trust you’ll grow out of it, my dear niece. For your information, however, let me state that I’m perfectly capable of conducting my seductions unaided.’
She smiled, dimpling her cheeks. ‘Oh, that I do believe, my dear uncle.’
He grinned. ‘Well, since we’ve done with the formalities, let’s be serious for a moment. No one from our family was present at Lady Windlesham’s soirée, but I don’t doubt that gossip has supplied all the details of what occurred there. Not to make a long story of it, my friend Velmond is under suspicion for Yarnton’s murder, and I mean to clear him.’
‘You do?’ She clasped her hands together in excitement. ‘Oh, what fun! How perfectly splendid, Justin!’
All attempts by Anthea’s parents to insist on a more proper form of address for her relative had met with failure. Meeting with no support from the principal in the affair, they had finally abandoned the unequal struggle. They stipulated only that she should show more circumspection outside the family circle.
‘I don’t know about fun, but I must admit to being intrigued by the business, quite apart from wishing to help old George. I know one should never confide in females, but I think — only think, mark you — that you may be an exception, Anthea.’
‘Oh, yes,’ she breathed, leaning forward with a glint in her eyes which made her resemble Justin strongly, ‘yes, indeed you may. I won’t breathe a word! See this wet, see this dry!’
She drew a finger across her slender neck in the time-honoured childish gesture.
‘Well, just make sure you don’t,’ he retorted darkly. ‘The point is this. George’s wife has some secret — probably the silliest thing, but important to her — which is clouding the issue. I’ll explain, if you don’t interrupt.’
She listened avidly while he repeated what he had learned so far of events on the night of the murder. Her eyes opened wide, but she obediently kept quiet until he had finished.
‘The girl’s very taken with you, so Lady Quainton assures me,’ he concluded. ‘Could you pursue the acquaintance and possibly persuade her to confide this secret to you? I feel convinced that it’s not at all what Velmond suspects, so you need not fear that the knowledge will place you in an invidious position. And possibly it may help to clear her husband of suspicion and point the way to the real murderer.’
‘I very much wish to become friendly with Lady Velmond on my own account,’ replied Anthea, nodding. ‘She is not at all like me, you know, which promises well for friendship, as two likes seldom deal well together! Besides, she is a blonde and I’m a brunette, so we shan’t be in competition, shall we?’
CHAPTER 4
No one knew better than Joseph Watts that London was an incongruous amalgam of the magnificent and the squalid. Behind the fine squares and wide, stately thoroughfares with their elegant residences and glittering shops lay a dingier, noisome area of narrow, ill-lit and filthy alleys with dilapidated tenements, where dubious characters eked out a precarious existence as pickpockets or by other forms of crime. Even the Runners did not care to enter these rookeries singly after nightfall, so it was broad daylight when he turned out of Houndsditch into Petticoat Lane.
At his appearance, a surprising number of sleazy individuals found urgent business elsewhere. Although the Runners wore no distinguishing uniform, the denizens of this neighbourhood found no difficulty in recognizing them for what they were.
One wizened old woman with a barrow of vegetables stood her ground, however, ostensibly plying a legitimate trade.
Watts knew her well, for she could be found most days somewhere in this area. He nodded.
‘How do, Poll. Still at it, I see?’
She glared defiantly back at him. ‘Whad yer mean? ’Course I’m sellin’ me veg, same as always. No law agin that, is there?’
‘Oh, no, as long as that’s all y’r doing. I just wonder if it is, now?’
He picked up one of the languid, yellowing cabbages from the barrow, surveying it disparagingly. She snatched it hastily away from him.
‘’Ere now, none o’ that,’ she snarled. ‘Don’t go a-spoilin’ o’ me goods!’
‘Spoilin’ that lot — that’s rich, that is. But then it don’t much matter what’s atop, as long as there’s something worthwhile underneath, do it, ma?’
‘Whad yer mean?’ Her tone was aggressive, but there was a trace of uneasiness beneath it.
‘Ye knows well enough. Fine hiding place for pickings from them young rascals hereabouts. Don’t fret, though’ — as she began to protest — ‘I’m not after you for that today. It’ll keep. No, what I want is a bit of information.’
She cast a worried glance about her, but there was no one within earshot, although she knew only too well that several pairs of eyes would be observing everything from safe concealment.
‘I ’bain’t no nark!’ she protested in a voice she hoped would carry to some of the hidden observers.
‘Nothing o’ that kind,’ he reassured her. ‘What I wants to know is, did you see a gentry mort, young, wearin’ a veil, getting out o’ a hackney hereabouts? Could be a week ago, more or less.’
‘Dunno,’ she hedged, eyeing him warily. ‘Can’t be expected to see everythink, now, can I?’
‘Not much misses you, I’ll be bound. And there can’t be so many ladies visiting these parts, nor many hackneys, neither. Come on, Poll, rattle that head o’ yourn, or what passes for such.’
‘What’s it to ye?’ She looked cunningly at him. ‘What’s it worth, mister?’
>
‘D’ye reckon ye can bargain with me? Why, for two pins I’d search that barrow o’ yourn —’
‘No call to be ’asty,’ she said quickly, shrinking back. ‘Ay, I calls it to mind now, right enough. There was an ’ackney come round the corner ’ere, an’ this flash moll gets out. Fair scuttles back into the ’Oundsditch, she do, wiv one o’ they prigs a-follerin’ ’er, but ’e didn’t get nuffink, ’cos she was too quick into the shop.’
‘What shop?’
She sniffed. ‘Why, Beaver’s, of course, bad cess to ’im. No use to the likes o’ us, ’e ’bain’t.’
Watts nodded. He knew Beaver, a pawnbroker in a respectable though modest line of business who so far had never been suspected of receiving stolen goods, unlike most in that district.
‘Too honest for you lot,’ he agreed. ‘Did you see the lady return?’
She shook her head. ‘No, ’cos the ’ack turned round a bit further down an’ picked ’er up outside Beaver’s.’
‘How d’ you know that, I wonder?’
She shrugged. ‘The lad told me; ’e follered ’er, but t’weren’t no use.’
‘You mean the prig — pickpocket? Didn’t get anything for his pains, eh? Well, I don’t doubt ye’ll benefit from his pickings most times. Oh, don’t trouble yourself to deny it, woman. I knows your lay, and one o’ these days I’ll do ye for it, mark my words.’
‘That’s gratitood, that is,’ she sniffed as he walked away.
He turned the corner into Houndsditch and entered the pawnbroker’s premises.
Anthea Rutherford lost no time in following up Justin’s suggestion, calling upon Lucilla Velmond that very same day. She took only her maid with her so that there might be more possibility of a tête-à-tête than if Lady Rutherford had accompanied her.
She was fortunate in finding that Velmond was out and Lucy quite alone. She was warmly received, and soon the two were enjoying a quiet little feminine chat together on fashions and other such innocuous subjects. It was obvious that Lucy welcomed the other girl’s friendly overtures; but nevertheless there was an air of constraint about her.
‘We must see more of each other, my dear Lady Velmond,’ said Anthea when she rose to go after having outstayed the normal time for a social call. ‘Are you engaged tomorrow morning? Would you care to drive out in the park with me, if it should prove fine?’
‘Oh, yes, I should like that of all things,’ said Lucy enthusiastically. ‘As to engagements, I have few at present, since so far I’ve not had time to form any acquaintance. And I believe my husband’ — her voice dropped and her face clouded — ‘is too occupied just now to be at home a great deal.’
‘Then I’ll call for you at eleven o’clock, if that’s convenient?’ asked Anthea, extending her hand in parting. This was agreed.
The outing was the start of daily meetings, and before a week had elapsed, the two were on easy enough terms to be calling each other by first names. Anthea encouraged her new friend to talk about her past life in Somerset, but she learned nothing which could throw any light on Lucy’s mysterious visit to Petticoat Lane.
She was bemoaning this fact to Justin when they met after an interval of several days.
‘Well, as to that,’ he said consolingly, ‘I’ve received some information from Watts, the Runner. I now know where Lady Velmond was going when Yarnton saw her. But,’ — he frowned — ‘the reason for her visit remains obscure.’
‘Tell me at once,’ she urged, an eager expression on her face.
‘She visited a pawnbroker’s in Houndsditch in order to raise money on a piece of jewellery — an old-fashioned necklace, such as I dare say a young female wouldn’t wish to wear, but which was valuable, nevertheless.’
She gasped. ‘Good heavens, Justin! A pawnbroker’s! Why in the world should she need to raise money? Surely Velmond is wealthy enough to supply all her wants?’
‘There may be times, chit, when a female don’t wish her husband to know what she’s spending.’
‘You think she’s unduly extravagant?’ she asked doubtfully. ‘And yet, when we went shopping together yesterday, she didn’t impress me as being an impulsive buyer. Quite the reverse, in fact, for although she doted on a bonnet we saw, she said only that she would think about it. She didn’t purchase a single item, whereas I —’
He laughed. ‘Don’t tell me! The carriage was so loaded with bandboxes, that you were both obliged to walk home. And now you’ve outrun the constable, and want a loan — how much?’
He drew out his pocketbook, grinning at her.
‘You’re a beast! But seriously, Justin, I can’t believe that’s the reason Lucy needs the money. Can she have been gaming?’ she asked doubtfully. ‘But then, she scarce knows anyone in Town with whom to play.’
‘That notion had entered my brilliant mind, too, so I asked George if his wife was fond of cards and so on. He said he doubted her ability to distinguish one suit from another.’
‘It has me in a puzzle altogether,’ admitted Anthea frowning.
‘Another notion occurred to me, though, and I think a more likely one. The lady has a brother whose pockets are permanently to let, by all I hear. It happens that this brother was staying with the Velmonds at about the relevant time. Now, if —’
‘Of course!’ interrupted Anthea eagerly. ‘That is just what Lucy would do, judging by what I already know of her! She wouldn’t like to ask her husband for money, and I dare say her brother wouldn’t either, so she hit upon this way of assisting him. But he must be an odiously selfish man to let her do such a thing, do you not think, Justin?’
‘A dashed loose screw, by all accounts,’ agreed Justin. ‘But I’d like you to obtain confirmation of this, if you possibly can, my dear. And we’re still left with the mystery of Thompson. I’ve been working on that myself for the past few days.’
‘Indeed? In what way, may I ask?’
‘By haunting the clubs and chatting to those who were present at that fateful soirée. No difficulty in getting them to talk about the murder — it’s quite eclipsed Byron’s exploits as a subject for conversation. I haven’t yet managed to work my way completely through the guest list, but what I have discovered so far is helpful.’
‘Helpful? Oh, don’t be so teasing, Justin! How is it helpful?’
‘Well, curiously enough, Yarnton doesn’t seem to have posed the question about the mysterious Thompson’s identity to any others except the group surrounding Lady Quainton. Significant, I think.’
A few days later, Anthea alighted from her carriage outside the Velmonds’ house to see Dr Wetherby just leaving the premises. She was acquainted with him, as the Rutherfords were among his many fashionable patients.
‘Oh dear,’ she exclaimed, having exchanged polite greetings. ‘There’s no one ill in the house, I trust?’
‘Nothing serious, Miss Rutherford, I’m glad to say. Lady Velmond has a slight disorder of the nerves, merely, and I’ve prescribed a sedative for her.’
‘I was about to call on her. I suppose that will be suitable, or do you advise against it?’ asked Anthea dubiously.
‘Not at all,’ he replied in a hearty tone. ‘A little feminine company will do her ladyship a deal of good. It will prevent her from brooding overmuch on this, ah, unfortunate situation concerning Lord Velmond.’
‘Oh, but she needn’t concern herself over that,’ said Anthea impulsively, ‘for my Uncle Justin has the matter in hand and hopes soon to uncover the real murderer!’
‘Indeed?’ The doctor’s bushy eyebrows shot up. ‘That would be Mr Justin Rutherford, I presume?’
She nodded.
‘One can only trust that your optimism proves well-founded, ma’am. I wish you good day.’
He bowed and turned away to where his carriage was waiting.
Anthea ran up the steps and was soon admitted to the morning-room where Lucy was sitting.
‘What is all this, my dear?’ she asked, planting a light kiss on Lucy’s pale cheek.
‘I collect you’re unwell — I just met Dr Wetherby.’
‘Oh, it is nothing,’ replied Lucy in an attempt at a casual tone. ‘I’ve not been sleeping too well lately, so George would have it that I must see the doctor. But there’s no need at all, indeed there is not. Pray do sit down, Anthea, and make yourself comfortable. I am so glad to see you!’
Anthea complied, but her keen glance had already noted the pallor of her friend’s face and the dark shadows under her eyes. Suddenly she decided to speak out. It was not only curiosity that inspired her now, but a sincere pity. She had grown fond of Lucy.
‘Lucy, I know that something has been troubling you for days past, and I don’t believe it is due altogether to anxiety on your husband’s behalf. It’s of no use to pretend otherwise, so why do you not confide in me? Surely by now you know me well enough to realize that you may trust me?’
Lucy’s lip trembled but she made no answer.
‘You need not be concerned about your husband’s situation,’ Anthea went on reassuringly. ‘Justin, my uncle, that is, will find out the real culprit, you may depend, and clear Velmond of all suspicion.’
‘Indeed, that’s part of my worry.’ Lucy’s voice shook. ‘But you’re quite right in thinking there is something besides — so much worse, Anthea! I’m in a frightful fix — I was forced into a monstrous predicament, and as a result George thinks —’ She almost broke down but managed to continue after a moment. ‘George thinks that I am conducting a liaison with another man! And the worst of all is that I dare not confess the truth to him! Oh, what can I do — whatever can I do?’
She broke into distracted sobs.
Anthea moved to sit beside her on the sofa and placed a comforting arm about her.
‘There, there, my love. You mustn’t try to bear it all yourself — only tell me the whole, and then we can see what we might do — together.’
Seated before his desk, his brow slightly furrowed in concentration, Justin was busy writing a few notes on the subject of Yarnton’s murder. His academic mind moved more smoothly when thoughts were captured on paper. He assembled the known information under headings, then paused, running his fingers through his dark, curly hair.
A Reputation Dies: A thrilling combination of detective fiction and romance (The Rutherford Trilogy Book 1) Page 4
