‘Oh very well!’ She rose from her chair, the swish of her bustle reflecting her annoyance, and fixed Riley with an angry frown. ‘You really are most awfully persistent.’
Riley inclined his head. ‘I really am.’
Chapter Six
Riley’s anticipated wait for Prudence’s arrival was cut short when Salter entered the room, looking hot and bothered. He removed a handkerchief from his pocket and mopped sweat from his brow.
‘Any luck?’ Riley asked.
‘Not what you’d hoped for. No diary. Well, actually there were journals, but nothing for this year. I found a few letters between her and her father and brought those with me.’ He waved a sheaf of papers in the air. They were tied together with a ribbon. ‘But that room was as neat as a pin. I tell you, sir, I looked everywhere for this year’s diary but it simply wasn’t there.’
Riley nodded, aware that Salter knew how to search a room and that no hiding place, no matter how obscure, would have escaped his attention. ‘There was a maid, I assume, and she would have heard the news.’
‘Aye, just the one, and a cook. They were both in a right old state. Said Emily was the sweetest girl as ever lived.’
‘Had either of them tidied the room?’
‘They said not. It was just as she’d left it. The maid said Emily was considerate and liked to keep things neat. She told me she had almost nothing to do in Emily’s room because she was naturally tidy.’
‘Hmm.’
‘You think the distraught mother somehow got word to the maid to clear out anything we might want to look at?’
Salter appeared dubious. ‘Don’t see it myself. That would imply that the mother was somehow implicated and has something to hide. If that were the case, she’s have tidied the room herself.’
‘Stranger things have been known to happen. Anyway, I shall be speaking with Mrs Ferguson again. In the meantime, we must assume that her daughter did keep a diary for this year,’ Riley said. ‘She wouldn’t have stopped the habit, especially when her life had reached such a pivotal point. So someone read it without her permission and confiscated it—’
‘So we come back to Mrs Ferguson. I can understand your thinking that way. I mean there’s no one else who would have reason to, but still, it would be a terrible imposition. To read something so private, much less impound it. Mrs F seems like such a meek little thing.’
‘Who is terrified of her husband. If what I hear of his character is to be believed, he wouldn’t have any qualms about reading his daughter’s diary, privacy be damned. And if it gave particulars of Emily’s affection for her unnamed paramour, there’s no telling what steps he would take to bring the association to an end. We know he has taken his frustrations out on his wife in a violent manner, if Jute is to be believed.’
‘I’d say that he is.’
‘I agree.’ Riley fell into momentary deliberation. ‘I think Mrs Ferguson somehow got wind of Emily’s affections for another man, so she read her diary, had it confirmed and argued with Emily about it. Anyway, I would hazard a guess that Mrs Ferguson reminded her daughter what was expected of her and warned her off the young man. She’s hidden the diary somewhere to prevent it from falling into her husband’s hands, hoping her daughter would see reason before her father returned.’
‘You might be right, sir, but unless we can get our hands on that diary, we can’t prove it. It’s not like we can look in Mrs Ferguson’s room, which is doubtless where she’s hidden it. Well, we could, but it would set the cat well and truly amongst the pigeons. Chief Inspector Danforth stressed the need for discretion.’
‘And wouldn’t hesitate to bring my heavy-handed tactics against a grieving mother to the attention of the commissioner.’ Riley gave a grim nod. ‘I’m aware of that, which is why a less direct approach is called for.’ Riley thought of Amelia and how easy it would be for her to look in the most likely places whilst lending her friend support in her hour of need. It was just the sort of situation that Amelia excelled at, to say nothing of giving Riley a legitimate excuse to spend more time in her company. He brightened considerably at the prospect.
‘You have something in mind, sir?’
‘Better that you don’t know, Jack.’
Salter rolled his eyes. ‘Undoubtedly. But be careful, sir. You know how the chief inspector will pounce upon the slightest excuse to see you demoted, or worse.’
‘He’d be happy to see me banished to the privilege of my own class, I’m sure,’ Riley said. ‘Don’t worry. In this particular instance he’s more concerned about a quick resolution than scoring points against me, although if he can do both, I don’t suppose he will be too unhappy. Anyway,’ he added languidly as he stretched his arms above his head, ‘it seems our Mrs Ferguson has some explaining to do. Most women are aware that tears prevent men from probing too deeply into their affairs. Not that I thought her tears were false. Even so, if she did take her daughter’s diary and knew of her affection for an unsuitable young man, why the devil didn’t she tell us? Presumably she wants Emily’s killer caught.’ Riley tapped his teeth with his forefinger. ‘I wish I knew why she was less that forthcoming with us, always supposing that she has that diary, of course.’
Salter was prevented from responding when the door opened to admit Prudence Ashton. Her eyes were hidden behind a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles that her mother would never permit her to wear in company, Riley suspected, regardless of her short-sightedness. Her pale complexion belied her calm demeanour, as did the tremor in her hands.
‘Please sit down, Miss Ashton,’ Riley said, standing and indicating the chair that her mother had just vacated. ‘I am very sorry about your friend.’
‘Thank you,’ she said, releasing a clenched fist to reveal a small, lace-edged handkerchief that she used to dab at her eyes. ‘It has been such a shock.’
‘I can well imagine.’
Riley examined Prudence as he gave her a moment to regain her composure. She was the polar opposite to her handsome brother, who had inherited his mother’s good looks. Sadly for Prudence, she favoured her father and possessed the same small mouth, pinched features and thin brown hair. She would be an ugly duckling compared to Gloria Dalton. Seen with Emily, she would have faded into complete insignificance.
It seemed unfair. Miss Ashton could well have a quick brain and be a lively conversationalist, but young people were judged by their looks alone and Prudence must have felt that injustice on a daily basis. Presumably she had a substantial dowry, but that would be the only reason why any young man would single her out. Jealousy and resentment were powerful motives for murder, Riley knew. Even so, he didn’t think Prudence was the guilty party. Quite apart from anything else, her hands were tiny. Too small and delicate to squeeze the life out of a rival, even if that rival was incapacitated and anger or desperation had lent Prudence superhuman strength.
‘You and Emily came out together,’ Riley said.
‘Yes, and Gloria too. We remained friends since we all live permanently in London, quite close to one another.’
‘And were destined to become more closely related. Your brother wanted to marry Emily.’
A flash of annoyance crossed Prudence’s face. ‘Everyone she met was captivated by her beauty and sweet nature and wanted to marry her.’
‘You didn’t mind?’
‘I am a realist, Lord Riley.’ She blinked behind her spectacles and a spark of animation lit her dull eyes. ‘Besides, I am not looking for a husband. I much prefer to apply myself to my studies.’
‘What studies would those be, miss?’ Salter asked. His voice was calm yet carried authority. Riley had heard that voice before, and knew that it usually came with an avuncular smile. Riley had seen him use the approach with timid young witnesses on several occasions. As a father, Salter was comfortable talking to adolescents from all backgrounds, and they almost always warmed to him.
‘I want Papa to let me have a position at the bank,’ sh
e said, lifting her chin defiantly, undoubtedly aware how unlikely she would be to get her way. ‘I have more aptitude for making financial predictions than Terrance ever will, and more interest in the subject, too. Heavens, I often advise Terr…’ Prudence pulled herself up. The animation and defiance left her face and she sighed. ‘I have endless patience and my situation will resolve itself eventually, I expect,’ she concluded.
Riley was tempted to ask what she had stopped herself from saying. What advice did she give her brother? Surely he didn’t discuss investment business with his sister. It was clearly a subject that Prudence felt passionately about, but had she stopped herself from blurting something of significance? She was in command of herself again, he noticed. The brief animation she had displayed had been replaced with a passive expression and Riley knew she wouldn’t give him a truthful answer if he chose to push the point.
He did not so choose…not now. But if he deemed it necessary, Prudence would eventually tell him everything he wanted to know. Or maybe she’d tell Salter. That might be an avenue worth pursuing.
‘Did Emily confide in you?’ he asked instead. ‘I realise that if she did, you would feel compelled to keep whatever she told you private, but that was before she was killed. Now I need to know everything about her that you knew in order to try and find out who killed her. You do see that, don’t you?’
‘I am not a dimwit, Lord Riley, but in truth I don’t know much. All I can tell you is that she didn’t really want to marry anyone yet. She was enjoying herself too much, I expect. But her father was putting pressure on her and she was afraid to disappoint him.’
Afraid? Riley thought that a telling choice of word.
‘Do you know if there was anyone she liked?’ Salter asked softly.
‘No, sorry.’
‘Would Gloria Dalton know?’ Riley asked.
‘I really couldn’t say. To be frank, the subject bores me, but I believe Miss Dalton has an interest in such things.’
‘Just one more question. I have heard it said that Miss Ferguson suffered from chronic shyness. Would you agree with that assessment?’
Prudence frowned and tilted her head to one side, light reflecting from the lenses of her spectacles, as she gave the question due consideration. ‘Actually, yes, I rather think she did. She always seemed surprised when people sought her out, which from my observations, is unusual in attractive women. Their appearance generally imbues them with confidence and they just assume that everyone will gravitate towards them. Not that I speak from personal experience, of course,’ she added, with a wry smile. ‘Gloria is flirtatious, has the confidence to put herself forward and enjoys being noticed. Not so Emily. It was almost as though she felt undeserving of all the attention she received and hoped to fade into the background.’ Prudence lifted a slim shoulder. ‘Not that she ever could, of course, but she was certainly not arrogant about her looks.’
‘Thank you. That’s useful,’ Riley said.
‘Really? I don’t see how.’
‘I saw Miss Ferguson once or twice during her season but wasn’t personally acquainted with her. I am attempting to build up a picture of all aspects of her character. It might help us to find the person who killed her.’
‘Well, I’m glad to have helped, if that’s what I have done, and hope you do find whoever did this horrible thing. But you need to understand that I wasn’t that close to Emily, or to Gloria, either. It was Mama who tried to promote the friendship but I really had very little in common with either of them.’ She laced her fingers together and studied her hands. ‘Society’s frivolities hold little attraction for me.’
Riley felt rather sorry for the chit and treated her to an engaging smile. ‘Then we have something in common.’
‘You?’ Prudence looked shocked. ‘But you could…Is that why you became a detective? It supplies you with a valid excuse to avoid soirees like the ones my mother so enjoys and forces me to endure also?’
He inclined his head. ‘It is certainly one of the reasons.’
‘Then I look forward to the day when the Detective Department opens its doors to female recruits.’
‘You would be a very worthy addition to our ranks.’
‘It will never happen, though,’ Prudence said gloomily. ‘We might show more insight than our male counterparts, and they would never recover from the humiliation.’
Riley’s lips quirked. ‘Very likely not.’ He paused. ‘You didn’t, by chance, happen to call out to Emily not long before she was found.’
‘No,’ Prudence replied without hesitation. ‘I was in the drawing room the entire time. Why do you ask?’
‘Idle curiosity.’
‘I heard someone call her name when we were all in the gardens, if that’s what you are referring to. But I couldn’t say whose voice it was. I’m not even sure if it was a man or a woman. Sorry. I was thinking about something else entirely and didn’t attach any importance to the incident, other than the fact that we all returned to the house and went our separate ways at that point.’
‘That was some time before her body was found,’ Riley said, concerned about the amount of time that had elapsed between Emily last being seen alive and the murder taking place. ‘Didn’t anyone wonder where she was?’
Prudence shrugged. ‘If anyone did, they didn’t voice their concerns. They probably assumed she had been cornered by one of the gentlemen, I suppose…oh.’ Prudence was quick enough to realise that there was a strong likelihood that that had indeed been the case. Riley could almost see her mind at work. A furrow appeared between her brows as if she was gathering a mental roster of the gentlemen who had been there at the time. The furrow was replaced by a look of impatience. Riley knew she’d realised that his officers would have made such a list already. Pity, Riley thought. She would make an excellent detective if she wasn’t a woman. ‘Everyone in the house that night was aware that they were all keen to win her affections,’ Prudence continued. ‘They didn’t exactly make a secret of the fact and I think some of the older guests found it amusing to watch. I did hear one or two of them quietly speculating about which gentleman she would choose.’
Riley stood. ‘Thank you, Miss Ashton, that will be all for now.’ Riley walked towards the window, which had been flung wide to let the breeze in and the memories out. Behind him he heard Salter approach Prudence.
‘If you think of anything that Miss Emily might have said to you, no matter how insignificant it might seem, be so kind as to send word. You are clearly an intelligent young lady and we would be grateful for your help.’
Riley turned in time to see Prudence beam at Salter’s compliment. The gesture illuminated her features and made her appear almost pretty. ‘Thank you,’ she said, walking through the door that Salter opened for her. ‘I will certainly do that.’
‘Poor scrap,’ Salter said as he closed the door again. ‘Right, what next?’
Before Riley could respond, the door opened and Farlow stood there. ‘His lordship’s compliments,’ he intoned. ‘If you would be so kind as to join him in the dining parlour, a light luncheon has been laid out and Mr Ashton has arrived home.’
Riley hid his surprise at this sudden change in Ashton’s attitude, wondering what he hoped to achieve by being hospitable. ‘Thank you, Farlow,’ he said.
Riley and Salter followed the butler across the expanse of entrance hall, where they found both Ashton males seated at the table in the dining parlour. It was a clever ploy on the senior’s part, since he clearly assumed that Riley would question his son over luncheon, at which Ashton had a legitimate reason to be present and influence his responses. It was interesting that he felt the need to oversee the boy, or perhaps prevent him from telling all that he knew. Ashton must realise that Terrance was one of the prime suspects.
The only real suspect, as things stood.
‘Once I have finished my business here, Farlow,’ Riley said, deliberately waiting until Ashton could hear him, ‘I shall wa
nt to interview all of the staff. Have the goodness to assemble them for me in, shall we say, an hour.’
Farlow glanced at Ashton and, at a nod from his employer, acquiesced. ‘As your lordship wishes.’
Riley and Salter took their places at the table. Salter was presumably expected to feel intimidated by the surroundings, but he had dined at Riley’s own table often enough and wouldn’t be overawed by the sight of decent china and crystal.
They spent ten minutes eating luncheon, Riley content to allow the silence to draw out as Salter looked around the ostentatious dining room with an expression that was close to, but not quite, contemptuous. Eventually Ashton could take no more.
‘You wanted to talk to my son,’ he said. ‘So here he is. He’s time’s limited so now is your opportunity.’
Riley finished the indifferent pasty he had been eating, wiped his fingers with his napkin and put it aside before responding.
‘There is somewhere we can speak in private?’ he asked, addressing his question to the younger man.
‘No need for that,’ Ashton replied brusquely. Riley looked Ashton in the eye and let the silence draw out again. ‘Oh, very well, you can talk in here.’ He threw his own napkin aside with such force that it fell to the floor. ‘I have better things to do with my time anyway.’ Ashton left the room, muttering beneath his breath.
‘Well then,’ Riley said, watching Terrance closely. He had barely eaten a thing and was as pale as a ghost. He clasped the stem of his glass with a hand that shook, and his grip upon it was so tight that Riley feared for Lady Ashton’s crystal. ‘I am sorry about this tawdry business. I know you were fond of Miss Ferguson.’
‘Fond?’ Terrance returned his glass to the table, had second thoughts, picked it up again and drank half of its contents. Riley and Salter had barely touched the claret that Ashton had pressed upon them, presumably hoping to dull their senses. ‘Fond? She was an angel beyond compare. I was to marry her.’
Death of a Debutante (Riley Rochester Investigates Book 1) Page 10
