Lady Kinver nodded. ‘Your godson, Justin Rutherford. I know he’s been asking questions, though I’m not sure why. But, but, oh, I don’t at all know, Cassie!’
‘Justin seeks to clear Velmond of all suspicion by discovering the murderer for himself. Moreover, by what he told me, he has the blessing of the chief magistrate at Bow Street, so doubtless he could bring strong influence to bear in that quarter on your behalf. He asked me for an account of Yarnton’s remarks at that fateful soirée and seemed vastly intrigued by the reference to Mr Thompson. He would be yet more intrigued could he know what you’ve just told me! Truly, Jane, cannot you see that your wisest course would be to confide the whole to him? Should you not care to discuss so intimate a subject with a young unmarried man, I will readily engage to act for you.’
For some time Lady Kinver continued to protest that she could not, but eventually her friend managed to persuade her.
CHAPTER 11
On most evenings Mr Dick Probert, senior clerk to the lawyers Binns & Moody in Lincoln’s Inn Fields, took a tankard of ale at a nearby tavern before returning to his modest home in Carey Street. While at his place of business he was efficient and self-contained, with little to say beyond what was necessary to the junior clerks under him; but once in the cosy atmosphere of the Wheatsheaf, he allowed himself to relax. The truth was that he was a lonely man and therefore ready to engage in casual conversation with any respectable, solitary drinker like himself, though he always avoided the noisier groups.
Joe Watts, strolling into the tavern on the evening of his consultation with Justin Rutherford, summed his man up at a glance. He carried his tankard over to the settle, which Probert was occupying alone.
‘Mind if I sit here?’ he asked carelessly.
‘Not at all, pray do,’ replied Probert, striking a careful balance between politeness and a more positive welcome.
He eyed the newcomer warily as he spoke, trying to assess his place in the scheme of things. A tradesman, perhaps, in a thriving way of business? He had the air of one accustomed to controlling staff. Not, he thought, a clerk; he lacked the pallid complexion of the indoor, sedentary man.
He permitted himself to chat to Watts on a number of innocuous topics, sat there for his accustomed time — less than an hour — and departed with a civil goodnight.
Watts came into the Wheatsheaf on the following evening and again sat by his quarry. This time the conversation grew more personal, especially after Watts had insisted on buying Probert another drink.
‘I never do take another, Mr Rowlands,’ protested Probert half-heartedly. ‘But seeing as I’m enjoying your company and you’re so kind as to offer, I’ll make an exception. I’ve not much to go home to, and that’s the truth, since my dear wife died.’
Watts made the appropriate remarks of commiseration and asked when the melancholy event had taken place.
‘Three years since,’ replied the clerk in sombre tones. ‘And me left with a fifteen-year-old girl to bring up on my own, barring a little help from my sister who lives nearby. But she and Kitty don’t get on, no use saying they do, so she don’t come in often these days. Have you any family, Mr Rowlands?’
‘Neither child nor wife,’ said Watts cheerfully. ‘Reckon I get along better that way. Suits me, any road.’
‘There’s much in what you say,’ agreed the other. ‘I don’t mind admitting that my daughter’s a constant source of anxiety to me. She’s in the house all day on her own, and dear knows what she gets up to when my back’s turned. She’s past eighteen now.’
Watts nodded sympathetically. ‘Often frisky at that age, young ladies,’ he ventured.
‘You may certainly say so, Mr Rowlands. I used to like her to look in on me occasionally at the office during our midday break, but I had to put a stop to it.’ He looked grave and clicked his tongue. ‘What with the juniors casting sheep’s eyes at her, for she’s not a bad-looking girl, even though I’ve a father’s natural partiality —’
Watts indicated that he was sure the young lady could fully substantiate her father’s claims.
‘Yes, well, I could keep them in order, right enough,’ continued Probert. ‘But when it came to another young fellow — secretary of one of our clients — I felt it safer to tell her not to come any more. He wouldn’t mean right by her, not a man in his position, I’ll be bound.’
‘Would that young fellow’s name chance to be Peyton?’ asked Watts casually. ‘Secretary to Mr Henry Cleveland, Member of Parliament?’
Probert looked a trifle disturbed and hesitated.
‘Why, yes,’ he admitted reluctantly. ‘Though I ought not to divulge the names of our clients. This young Peyton sometimes comes on errands from his employer, not on his own behalf. Do you know him?’
Watts nodded. ‘I have some business dealings with Mr Cleveland’s household, you see. Between ourselves,’ — he adopted a confidential tone — ‘I don’t find that party a good payer, not by any means.’
Probert pursed his lips. ‘You mean Mr Cleveland? That don’t surprise me by what our Mr Binns lets drop from time to time.’
The unaccustomed extra pint of ale had made Probert more than usually expansive, but now he was suddenly overcome by the feeling that he had been indiscreet. He drained his tankard, bade his new-found friend a hurried goodnight and departed.
‘I thought it might be that,’ said Justin, looking satisfied.
‘Did you indeed, you wretched boy?’ demanded Lady Quainton, smiling in spite of herself. ‘Upon my word, you terrify me at times! Are no secrets safe from your prying mind, I wonder?’
She had just finished recounting to him the story told her by Lady Kinver.
‘It wasn’t really so very difficult to guess; after all, godmama, I already knew there was a blackmailer at work, as I’ve just explained to you. Therefore it seemed a reasonable assumption that Lady Kinver’s distress at that soirée would indicate that she was yet another victim. I couldn’t cast her in the role of murderer, so what remained?’
‘No, indeed, I should think not! But I do feel sincerely sorry for poor little Lucy Velmond. I knew she could never be keeping an assignation with some man in Petticoat Lane, but I never dreamt what the monstrous truth would be! Whatever can that innocent child have done to give this villain a hold upon her? Not that I mean to press you for details,’ she added hastily.
‘Just as well, for I don’t possess ’em,’ replied Justin lightly. ‘It’s the lady’s secret until she chooses to divulge it to Velmond, which I urged her to do with all possible speed.’
‘And has she done so?’
‘I don’t know — I must inquire of Anthea. But to return to the present case, ma’am, although you seem to have asked most of the pertinent questions, there are one or two points that occur to me. In particular, I would like to interview the family nurse, if that could be arranged. Knowing Lady Kinver’s daughter intimately from childhood, she may be able to shed more light on the affair.’
‘Yet it seems clear enough,’ demurred Lady Quainton.
‘Yes, but one can never tell. A first-hand account often reveals some important fact that is lost in a report from a third party. Only consider how invaluable I’ve found your eyewitness account of the events on the night of Yarnton’s murder, for example.’
She laughed. ‘Now you are trying to turn me up sweet. But I’ll speak to Jane Kinver and see if that can be arranged for you.’
Accordingly, Justin was seated a few days later in the neat parlour of a small cottage situated on Paddington Green.
Mrs Barton, one-time nurse to Maria, was a small woman with a pleasant, somewhat wrinkled face and greying hair tidily arranged beneath a snowy white cap. She had been prepared by Lady Kinver for this visit and accepted it quite calmly, willing to assist the Honourable Justin Rutherford if possible.
‘I would like you to consider, Mrs Barton,’ he began, after some civil preliminaries, ‘whether it’s at all possible that anyone else in Lady Kinver’s hou
sehold should have learned of this affair. Some of the servants, perhaps?’
‘No, sir. There were no servants in that part of the house at the time, it being early afternoon. Miss Maria had gone to lie down with the headache, as she said, and I looked in to see how she did. I soon realized there was more than the headache and fetched my lady from her boudoir on the same floor. Fortunately the doctor was in the house paying a call on the master, who was always in indifferent health. There was no stir made in bringing him to Miss Maria — it was but a few steps along the landing with none of the staff by to see or hear aught.’
‘And you’re confident that no word was dropped — accidentally, of course — afterwards, to give rise to talk among the servants?’
She bridled a little. ‘Who would let fall anything, do you suppose, sir? Not my lady, and certainly not myself! I’ve never mentioned it to this day.’
‘Of course not,’ he said soothingly. ‘And a doctor’s discretion is naturally to be relied upon. Who was the medico, by the way?’
‘Why, Dr Wetherby of course. My lady would have none but the best doctor to attend the master and Miss Maria.’
‘I see.’
He frowned thoughtfully and fell silent for a while. Nanny Barton studied him meanwhile, liking what she saw. The alert brown eyes showed intelligence, the firm chin decision, and the mobile mouth a sense of humour. She had watched too many children grow up not to be able to interpret such physical signs. Here was a gentleman to be trusted with a secret of some delicacy, of that she was sure; though it seemed an eccentric thing that he should interest himself in such dubious matters. She wished there was some way in which she could help him to find the villain who had been extorting money from her ladyship for so many years, a fact which had appalled her when Lady Kinver had revealed it only yesterday. But there was nothing she could think of, nothing at all. Unless…
‘Let us consider another aspect of the case,’ resumed Justin. ‘My own family nurse knew all of us better than our parents, and I dare say the same is true of yourself and Lady Kinver’s daughter?’
Nanny Barton smiled. ‘Well, I’ll not deny that I was up to most of Miss Maria’s tricks, when she was a child at any rate. I can’t speak for when she came out of the schoolroom, for young ladies are another matter you know, sir.’
‘Do I not?’ he said feelingly, thinking of his niece Anthea. ‘But it does occur to me that you may be in a better position than Lady Kinver to say whether or not your erstwhile charge may have confided her predicament to any other person than her mother.’
She considered this for a moment with furrowed brows.
‘No, I don’t think it for a moment, sir,’ she said presently in a decided tone. ‘Had she confided in anyone, it would have been me. She knew she could always rely on me, come what may. But she was too frightened, poor lamb, and too inexperienced to be certain. She waited, hoping and trusting all would come right, and so told no one at all of her plight. There was one thing, though… I don’t know, it might not signify —’
‘Tell me.’ He leaned forward eagerly.
‘Why, there’d been a lady visitor sitting with the two of them — my lady and Miss Maria — when Miss Maria excused herself, saying she had the headache. And she’s a vastly sharp lady, too, that Mrs Cleveland, not one to miss much. It’s just possible she might have suspected something — I wonder now.’
‘Mrs Cleveland,’ repeated Justin pensively. ‘Well, I fear this is unfamiliar territory to me, Mrs Barton. You must be the better judge of what likelihood there was of any suspicion being aroused. Personally, I would think it remote.’
‘Ah, but a nod’s as good as a wink to a blind horse,’ said nanny, reverting to the axioms with which she had puzzled her charges in childhood.
Justin grinned. ‘I recall my nurse trying out that one on me. I’m not sure even now what she meant.’
Mrs Barton smiled in return. ‘I dare say she meant, sir, that it’s best to keep a still tongue in your head and your eyes fully opened.’
‘I’d certainly agree with that. One more thing, with your indulgence, Mrs Barton, and then I have done. Do you know what female friends Lady Kinver’s daughter would have in her aunt’s neighbourhood in Buckinghamshire, where I collect she was staying for a month or so while her parents were in Bath?’
She shook her head. ‘There I can’t help you, sir, for if there were any, they must have been new acquaintances. She’d never stayed before alone with Mrs Hardwick, just going with her parents for short visits once or twice a year. And as Mrs Hardwick has no family of her own, other children never came to the house.’
‘Disappointing,’ he admitted with a rueful look. ‘I had hoped —’
‘I think I know, sir,’ she interrupted, her gaze sharpening. ‘You’re thinking that a friend of Miss Maria’s might have got wind of how she was carrying on and let it slip to someone so’s it reached this villain who’s been blackmailing my poor lady. And so it could have been, I’ll not deny.’
‘Almost anyone could have chanced to acquire the information, of course, but a female friend seems more likely. Did this Captain Tilsworth have sisters, do you know?’
‘No, he did not. But,’ — reluctantly — ‘I do have some doubts, sir, I must admit.’
‘Doubts?’
‘Yes. About Captain Tilsworth.’
He waited for her to overcome an evident reluctance to say more. At last she made up her mind.
‘Dead men tell no tales, Mr Rutherford. And Miss Maria could be — devious — at times. With so much at stake, and perhaps wanting to protect someone else — well, suppose she wasn’t telling the truth when she blamed the captain?’
CHAPTER 12
‘We caught that other bully lad,’ reported Watts. ‘Nothing out of him but a lot of tarradiddle, like his mate. Said they were hired to keep a watch on Yarnton’s place, but they reckon they can’t say who by, seeing as Sims fixed it with them on t’other’s behalf. And no luck yet in finding that same cove from the description given by Sims, if you can rightly call it a description.’
‘I didn’t have any strong expectations in that quarter, I must say. What news from Binns & Moody’s clerk?’
‘Not much there either, sir. One thing, though, I’d overlooked. I called in at Bow Street to check it. Binns & Moody was Yarnton’s lawyer too. Don’t know if it signifies that he and the MP used the same firm?’
Justin pondered this for a few moments. ‘Any connection between our principals could be significant, but I must admit that at present I fail to see where it fits. We’ll file it away for future reference. Did you discover anything else?’
Watts shook his head. ‘That man Probert, their senior clerk, was a sight too discreet for my purpose, though I tried to wet his tongue so’s it would wag. He confirmed by a hint that Cleveland’s in deep water, but we pretty well knew that already. He grumbled a lot of the time about his young daughter — seems he’s a widower and she’s a flighty piece. He said he had to stop her from coming to see him at the office on account of his junior clerks making up to her. Not only them, either, it seems, but that young fellow Peyton, Cleveland’s secretary, who sometimes goes there on his employer’s business.’
Justin grinned. ‘The first personal information we’ve so far collected about Peyton. Again, it’s not significant as far as we can tell. Doubtless he does have an eye for the petticoats, like most men of his age — odd if he didn’t. His social position’s a trifle ambivalent. One wonders how he passes his leisure time and what friends he has. Obviously he don’t mix in Cleveland’s set. Perhaps we should look into all that presently. Meanwhile, however, I’ve some news for you of the utmost importance.’
He recounted briefly all he had learned of Lady Kinver’s dealings with Thompson, finishing by going over the interview with Nurse Barton. At the conclusion Watts emitted a low, prolonged whistle.
‘You always did think there might be other victims, sir. Gawd, though, twenty thousand pounds! And been goin
g on for five years! No wonder this Thompson murdered Yarnton.’
‘The devil of it is, we don’t seem much closer to tracking the fellow down,’ said Justin ruefully. ‘I’d give much to know, Joe, what that notebook of Yarnton’s contained, but we may depend that it’s been destroyed by now. He’d be a fool to keep it, and I’d lay any odds he’s far from that. Suppose we examine the facts we do possess.’
He paused, collecting his thoughts.
‘From what we know at present, two of our suspects definitely had access to the secrets used for extortion, namely, Cleveland and Wetherby. Unfortunately, we can’t be certain that either of them knew both secrets. Take Cleveland first. His daughter was at school with Lady Velmond and learned of her misdemeanour. The girl would certainly have talked of it at home, as schoolgirls are incurable chatterboxes. Assuming Cleveland to be Thompson, he would have stored the information away against a time when it might be useful, namely when the penniless schoolgirl Lucy has become a wealthy man’s wife. His possession of Lady Kinver’s secret is less certain, however, depending as it does solely on an impression gained by Nurse Barton.’
‘We do know that he’s under the hatches, sir, don’t we? And also that he’s probably been involved in dubious dealings on the Stock Exchange. He needs the money, which makes him a likely candidate.’
‘True. I’d like firm evidence that he did know of the Kinver affair, though. How to get it?’
‘Lady Quainton might help there, sir. Talk to Mrs Cleveland, worm it out of her the way females do.’
Justin frowned. ‘There’s something vastly distasteful about using a wife to incriminate her husband.’
‘They’re only too pleased to do it most times in my line of business. May be different with the Quality, of course.’
His tone indicated doubt.
‘Not sure that it is,’ replied Justin, confirming this cynical view. ‘We could perhaps try it. But Mrs Cleveland’s away from home at present, visiting her daughter.’
A Reputation Dies: A thrilling combination of detective fiction and romance (The Rutherford Trilogy Book 1) Page 10
