A Reputation Dies: A thrilling combination of detective fiction and romance (The Rutherford Trilogy Book 1)

by Alice Chetwynd Ley

  ‘Like other folks.’

  ‘You mean he spoke just as you and your mates do?’

  Sims considered this. ‘Mostly,’ he pronounced at last. ‘Coupla times, more like yer do. Wasn’t yer, was it?’ he asked with an attempt at humour.

  ‘I’ll tell you this much,’ said Watts, unamused. ‘Better watch your step, or you’ll hear more of my voice than you’ll relish. On your way, then.’

  Justin had been dining with his eldest brother, Viscount Rutherford, and his family at their town house in Berkeley Square. After dinner, Lady Rutherford and Anthea had been escorted to Almack’s by one of Anthea’s many admirers, Justin resisting all his niece’s attempts to persuade him to make one of their party.

  ‘You know Almack’s ain’t much in my line, my dear girl,’ he said to her sotto voce. ‘Besides, I particularly wish to talk to Ned privately.’

  She pouted. ‘So you’ve no further use for me as a confederate now. I see. How like a male, to obtain all the aid possible from a female and then abandon her. But don’t suppose you’ll escape me this lightly, monster! I mean to know everything you’ve been doing and all you’ve discovered — only wait until I get you alone next time!’

  ‘It’s a pleasure I scarce know how to postpone, ma’am. But you mustn’t keep your escort waiting — the poor devil will be counting the minutes and turning them into hours. No, no,’ — as she showed signs of protesting — ‘I promise I’ll recount the whole eventually, but you must allow me time to set my theories and discoveries in some sort of order.’

  She accepted this, bestowed a brilliant smile upon him in reward and followed her mama from the room.

  ‘You injured your arm, Justin?’ demanded Edward as he watched his brother pour the wine. ‘Noticed something at dinner but naturally didn’t mention it in front of the females.’

  ‘Nothing much, a slight stiffness merely, from bruising. Tried conclusions with a couple of footpads the other evening.’

  Edward raised his eyebrows. ‘Footpads, eh? Whereabouts? Did they get anything from you?’

  ‘Only a thick head — one of ’em at least. The other got away, but he’ll be laid by the heels soon enough, so Runner Watts assures me.’

  Edward looked disturbed. ‘Just what are you about, old fellow? Consorting with Bow Street Runners —’

  ‘Joe Watts is my erstwhile companion from my time with Wellington. He joined Bow Street on his discharge. I’ve hired him to aid me in my investigations into Yarnton’s murder.’

  ‘Yes, I’d heard a rumour that you’re concerning yourself in that business. For God’s sake, Justin, why must you be always up to these freakish starts?’ demanded Edward in a pained tone. ‘Take my advice and leave it to the authorities. Why the devil you can’t content yourself with the normal sporting activities of a gentleman when you feel the need for a change from academic pursuits is more than I can fathom! But so it’s always been!’

  ‘Unregenerate character, ain’t I?’ said Justin with a grin. ‘But it’s of interest to learn that someone’s got wind of my involvement in this affair. Where did you hear this rumour, Ned?’

  ‘Can’t rightly say — someone at White’s, I think. I wasn’t best pleased, as you may know, so I damn well brushed the topic aside quickly. What’s it all about, old chap? I know Velmond’s supposed to be under suspicion — damn ridiculous of course!’

  ‘Not now, I think. But I’ll tell you the whole — in return for some information I need from you.’

  Lord Rutherford stared. ‘Don’t know what I can tell you. But fire away then.’

  Justin sipped his wine before replying. ‘Don’t need to say, I suppose,’ he began, ‘that you must keep your mouth shut?’

  Edward nodded.

  ‘The truth is, then, that Yarnton was murdered because he was foolhardy enough to direct one of his notorious taunts at a blackmailer.’

  ‘Good God, a blackmailer! What in thunder are things coming to? A blackmailer circulating among the ton! Have you any notion who it may be?’

  Justin shook his head. ‘Not for certain, though I have narrowed the possibilities down to a short list of suspects. Let me explain.’

  He outlined briefly the information he possessed and his deductions from it. His brother listened attentively, a shocked expression on his face.

  ‘So you see there are four men — Cleveland, his secretary, Bradfield and Dr Wetherby — any one of whom could be the guilty party. I’ve no more than a nodding acquaintance with any of ’em, and I’ve never set eyes on Peyton, the secretary, at all. I’d like you to tell me what you know about them. Start with the MP, Cleveland.’

  ‘Cleveland? He’s a Tory and opposed to any kind of reform, like the rest of the party. Not much else to say about him. He don’t make much stir in the House, not one of your up-and-coming politicians.’

  ‘Has he any particular friends in the House?’

  Edward considered this for a moment. ‘He was pretty thick with Cochrane at one time. You remember, the fellow who was convicted of fraud in the Stock Exchange case two years ago. In fact, one or two people wondered at the time if Cleveland himself was involved, but he was never charged so there couldn’t have been any evidence.’

  ‘Extraordinary case, that,’ agreed Justin. ‘I wasn’t in England at that time, but I collect that it depended upon play-acting by a group of adventurers.’

  Edward nodded. ‘That’s so. A man named de Beranger dressed up in military costume and presented false reports about the overthrow of Napoleon in France to the Port Admiral of Deal. His intention was that the false intelligence should be forwarded to London by the semaphore telegraph but fog prevented this, so instead he posted to Lord Cochrane’s house with it. When the news reached the Stock Exchange, Omniums and Consuls soared of course. Three other bogus officers followed to give the rumours a further boost. The conspirators had previously acquired large holdings of the stock, and they sold it at the inflated price. A month later, after the news was proved to be false, the Stock Exchange held an inquiry. Cochrane and his brother were in it up to their necks.’

  ‘Hm. Well, if Cleveland did make anything out of it, presumably he’s in easy circumstances.’

  ‘I’m not so sure of that. There’ve been rumours lately that he’s selling off his stable and cutting down on domestic staff. Mrs Cleveland’s extravagant, by what the females say, somewhat beyond the normal for womenkind. All this is gossip, of course,’ he added hastily, ‘so don’t refine too much upon it.’

  ‘No smoke without fire, all the same. A man in financial straits is more likely to turn to blackmail than one who’s plump in the pocket, wouldn’t you say?’

  Viscount Rutherford agreed uneasily. ‘But a man in his position would be taking a devilish risk.’

  ‘True. I believe there’s a daughter?’

  ‘Yes, that’s right. She came out last year and shortly afterwards married a man with an estate in Norfolk.’

  ‘I collect that at one time the Clevelands lived in Somerset and that their daughter attended a young ladies’ seminary in Bath?’

  Edward nodded. ‘They came to live in Town after Cleveland got his seat, about six years ago. They left the girl at school in Bath until last year, so m’ wife told me.’

  ‘It might interest you to know, Ned, that Cleveland’s daughter attended the same school as Velmond’s wife. Also that the indiscretion for which Lady Velmond is now being blackmailed occurred while she was at the seminary.’

  ‘Good God! Do you mean to suggest —?’

  ‘It’s a possibility that I can’t afford to overlook, at all events.’

  ‘I can’t credit it!’ exclaimed Edward in a horrified tone. ‘A man in his position! But you say this blackmail demand arrived recently, and it was the first,’ he added thoughtfully. ‘Presumably Lucilla Velmond’s, ah, indiscretion, whatever it may be, occurred some years back, so why wait until now?’

  ‘Dear me, Ned, I fear you’d never make a detective,’ said Justin, pityingly.
‘Don’t you see, old chap, it’s only now that poor little Lucilla has wed a rich man? Until then, she was the daughter of an impoverished squire.’

  ‘I tell you what, Justin, this is a damnably unpleasant business! I only hope you’re not making a mistake, or there’ll be the devil to pay and no pitch hot!’

  ‘Ah, but we mustn’t jump to conclusions,’ put in Justin, wagging a cautionary finger. ‘So far, this is all theory, understand? It remains to be proved. Now let’s consider the other candidates. What do you know about Cleveland’s secretary, for example?’

  Edward looked relieved at this change of focus.

  ‘Peyton? Not much. Handsome young fellow of about four and twenty. He’s a distant relative of Mrs Cleveland, and she persuaded her husband to offer the boy this post when he came down from Cambridge a few years since. Family not too well off, I collect, so couldn’t do much for him. Seems to discharge his duties conscientiously enough. Don’t know anything about his private life, as naturally he don’t mix in our circles.’

  ‘Does his family reside in Somerset too?’

  ‘No, I believe it’s Hertfordshire or Buckingham, not far from Town. Dare say Eliza could tell you for certain, if it matters. She knows all the gossip, like most matrons bless ’em.’

  ‘Perhaps I ought to have applied to my sister-in-law instead of you,’ agreed Justin laughing. ‘I should mention that Anthea’s been of prodigious help to me already — but for her I should most likely not have learned of Lady Velmond’s blackmail.’

  Edward frowned. ‘See here, my boy, not sure I care for that. Anthea’s a resty chit — takes after you more than she does after her mother or myself — and there’s no saying what starts she’ll get up to if once you let her have her head. Seems to me this affair could be dangerous. Yarnton murdered, and yourself attacked. You don’t say outright that the footpads were set on you by someone else, but I’m not quite a fool, y’know.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I’ll keep her out of anything risky. In fact, it’s unlikely that I’ll need to ask for her help again.’

  ‘You may get it, whether you will or no,’ Edward warned him. ‘No holding the chit once she’s got the bit between her teeth! I’ll hold you accountable for her safety, and don’t forget it.’

  ‘I won’t. I value my niece highly, Ned, I assure you. But to resume — what d’you know of Bradfield?’

  ‘Ask Velmond. He’s one of George’s set. Not a bad crowd on the whole. None of ’em go in for deep play or expensive lightskirts, and that’s saying a lot these days.’

  Justin chuckled. ‘That’s your Scots Presbyterian blood showing, old chap! But I won’t roast you on that subject. Is Bradfield married? Does he reside in Town, do you know?’

  ‘Yes, he’s married with young children and his country estate’s in Sussex. His wife’s there most of the time. I collect she doesn’t like London.’

  ‘Any financial difficulties?’

  ‘Shouldn’t think so, but perhaps George Velmond could tell you. By the way, Justin, does Velmond know about this business with his wife?’

  ‘Not unless she’s told him by now. I did my best to persuade her to it, but I’ve reason to believe that so far she hasn’t followed my advice. Foolish, but understandable I suppose. I pledged myself to secrecy.’

  ‘Awkward. It means you can’t confide your suspicions to him.’ He paused, then asked, ‘Whatever can the foolish child have done to lay herself open to extortion? She seems such an innocent little creature.’

  ‘I think she is, and that may have been the cause of her indiscretion. I’ve no notion what it was. If she told Anthea, my niece didn’t see fit to pass it on to me.’

  ‘Hang together, females. But so do we, after all.’

  Justin nodded. ‘Self-preservation of the sexes. Well, you can’t tell me much about Bradfield, Ned, so I’ll have to try elsewhere. What about Dr Wetherby?’

  ‘Oh, it couldn’t be Wetherby,’ replied his brother confidently. ‘Doing very well for himself, has been these ten years. He’s in and out of all the ton households and not only as a medico, mark you. He’s invited to social occasions too. Has a good house in Bruton Street, keeps a tolerable stable with a couple of carriages — none of your doctor’s modest gigs for Wetherby! He’s been attending my household for some years now and that of almost everyone I know. He’s very much relied upon — sound medical man.’

  ‘Married?’

  ‘No, a widower. His wife died three or four years back. There’s no family.’

  ‘Seems to me,’ said Justin thoughtfully, ‘a man in his position would have access to a good many personal secrets. The sickroom, y’ know, is pretty much a confessional chamber.’

  ‘Aye, but I can’t see Wetherby going in for blackmail, though. His pockets are well enough lined as it is. He’d be a fool to jeopardize a highly successful career for the sake of a paltry sum like — what did you say the amount was?’

  ‘Five hundred pounds,’ supplied Justin.

  ‘Well, I ask you! Ridiculous!’

  ‘Perhaps so, if that were all.’

  ‘All? What d’you mean? I don’t follow you.’

  ‘Simply, my dear Ned, that for anything I know at present, there may be other blackmail victims.’

  CHAPTER 8

  On the following morning, Justin decided to look in at White’s in the hope of gleaning further information concerning his principal suspects. He encountered Velmond there. The two had not met during the past week, and Justin was taken aback to notice that his friend showed all the signs of a man who had been drinking heavily in the interval.

  ‘You’re the very chap I want to see,’ declared Velmond in slightly slurred accents. ‘You found out yet who this scoundrel T—’

  He had not troubled to lower his voice but stopped abruptly as Justin took his arm in a hard grip.

  ‘Wassermatter?’ he protested. ‘I only wanted to ask you —’

  ‘Yes, I know what you want,’ said Justin quietly. ‘But first let’s find a more secluded spot, what?’

  Keeping his hold on Velmond’s arm, he steered his friend into another room, which was unoccupied except for three elderly gentlemen quietly snoozing behind their newspapers. He chose a couple of seats at a small table removed at some distance from these and beckoned a waiter.

  ‘Join me in a bottle?’ asked Velmond.

  ‘No, not at present, thank you. Coffee, I think — black as hell.’

  Velmond shrugged but made no protest, drinking the coffee gratefully enough when it arrived.

  ‘Rather think I needed that,’ he said, more in his normal tones.

  ‘Been hitting the bottle, George? Not like you.’

  ‘Well, what’s a fellow to do?’ demanded Velmond defensively. ‘If your wife had been conducting an affaire with someone else —’

  ‘She hasn’t,’ interrupted Justin with emphasis.

  Velmond’s expression changed, and he leaned forward eagerly. ‘You’re sure of that, Justin? How d’you know? For God’s sake, tell me at once!’

  Justin shook his head. ‘Afraid I can’t, old chap. You must ask Lady Velmond yourself. But I give you my word that there’s nothing of that kind.’

  ‘Devil take it, man, you can’t leave matters in the air in that fashion! How do I know that you ain’t just fobbing me off?’

  ‘Because I hope you know me better than that. There are good reasons why I can’t explain fully, but you may take my word for it that your wife is completely innocent of the charge you’ve laid upon her. Only ask her, George.’

  ‘Easier said than done,’ muttered Velmond. ‘There’s been a coolness between us ever since I first taxed her with it. We’ve scarce spoken a word to each other since then. I’ve been spending most of my time either here or at Brooks’s.’

  Justin said nothing to this, feeling as though he were treading on eggshells. Velmond was also silent for a while, brooding. Presently he roused himself.

  ‘What of this man Thompson, then?’ he demanded.
‘Where does he come into it, if he’s not Lucy’s lover?’

  ‘Unless I’m much mistaken, he’s Yarnton’s murderer.’

  Velmond stared. Justin was silent for a moment, wondering how to disclose some of the information he possessed without involving Lucilla Velmond.

  ‘But I don’t see that,’ objected Velmond. ‘As far as I know, there was no one called by that name present at the soirée.’

  ‘It’s a pseudonym. I believe that Yarnton had discovered who Thompson really was and was taunting the man in his customary style. A taunt that was answered with murder.’

  ‘Good God! You mean there was some scandal that one of the guests feared to have made public and that he was prepared to kill to protect his secret? But that means — devil take it, I’m acquainted with the majority of those who were present! It’s monstrous!’

  ‘More monstrous than believing your wife to be unfaithful to you?’

  ‘Well, no, not so, of course! But how can you be so positive, Justin?’

  ‘I’ve done a certain amount of investigation, aided by Runner Watts. I’d prefer you not to press me for details now though, old fellow, because I’ve still a long way to go before I can definitely put my finger on the culprit. Moreover, if I breathe my suspicions to you, ten to one you’ll give the game away by acting oddly with the suspects. You’re too honest for the subterfuge necessary in detection, I fear.’

  ‘Well, I can’t pretend to regret that,’ said George in downright tones. ‘I do see your point though, and perhaps it would be best if I don’t know too much. All that matters to me, after all, is that Lucy should be innocent!’

  ‘I imagine,’ said Justin dryly, ‘that it also matters marginally that you should be cleared of any suspicion as Yarnton’s murderer?’

  ‘That, of course. But I may tell you the other matter has far outweighed that recently. All the same, my dear chap, I’m devilish grateful to you for all your efforts on my behalf. Come and dine with us soon, will you?’

  ‘There’s a person asking to see you, sir.’

  Henry Cleveland looked up from his writing, an impatient frown on his face.