Death of a Courtesan: Riley Rochester Investigates

by Wendy Soliman

  ‘You will of course want wish to make amends by helping us to find who did this, assuming it wasn’t you,’ Salter said, his tone only slightly less belligerent.

  ‘I keep telling you, it wasn’t me! I have committed many sins, I admit that much—’

  ‘You don’t have a lot of choice, given that we know how you get your gratification,’ Salter snarled.

  ‘True enough, but my desires harmed no one but myself. I swear on all I hold most dear that I didn’t kill Adelaide. Besides,’ he added, looking a little more confident, ‘several people must have seen her alive and well as she saw me off the premises.’

  ‘You could have sneaked back in. You’re a small man and would find it easy to hide.’

  Riley’s hand on Salter’s arm halted his flow of words. His sergeant had been more comfortable with this investigation and Adelaide’s way of making a living since seeing the home life from which she had escaped, although the sanctimonious clergyman who was thinking only of his own skin had clearly rekindled his agitation. But Boyland didn’t kill the girl, and angering him would make him less likely to tell them anything he knew.

  ‘Was there anything different about Adelaide that you can recall?’ Riley asked. ‘Think carefully. You were the last person to see her alone, apart from her killer. We are trying to discover why that person wanted to kill her and why he went to so much trouble to carry out the deed. He would have found it easier to abduct her from the street and everyone would simply assume that she had taken herself off.’

  Boyland nodded, his eyes still moist with tears. ‘There was something,’ he said. Riley and Salter both sat up a little straighter.

  ‘What was it?’ Salter asked. ‘Out with it, man. Don’t keep us waiting.’

  The clock striking the hour, sounding loud in the crowded and airless room, meant that he did keep them waiting until the last chime faded. ‘After we’d finished, she asked me to say a prayer with her.’

  ‘She did what!’ Salter’s exclamation echoed Riley’s own surprise.

  ‘Did she say why?’ Riley asked.

  ‘She said she had a big decision to make and needed guidance from a higher power. She did not say what that decision was.’

  ‘Had she asked you to pray with her before?’

  ‘No, but we often talked about theological matters when our sessions were over and I was recovering.’ Boyland looked directly at Riley as he answered his question, his expression open and honest. ‘She was very knowledgeable about the subject. She said she’d had no option but to study religion where she grew up but argued vociferously against the existence of God. Given my reasons for visiting her, I found it hard to mount a convincing argument in His defence.’

  ‘She was not devout, yet she wanted you to pray with her,’ Riley said, rubbing his chin as he considered this startling revelation. ‘Didn’t you think that odd?’

  ‘Even unbelievers tend to return to the comfort of religion in times of great anxiety, inspector. I have seen it happen many times before.’

  ‘Did she say anything else that might help us?’ Riley asked.

  ‘Not that I can recollect, but she actually kissed me on the cheek before we left her room and that surprised me. Any physical contact with her was against her rules, you see. She couldn’t bear to be touched.’

  ‘She beat you and that excited you, but you couldn’t touch her,’ Salter said, vigorously scratching his head. ‘So how did you achieve release?’

  ‘Not in the way that you imagine, sergeant. We were never physically intimate, and I would have declined any such offer, even if it was made. I don’t expect you to believe me, but I have standards, and even I would not have sexual congress with a woman outside of marriage.’

  ‘It takes all sorts, I suppose,’ Salter muttered as they took their leave.

  ‘You were hard on him, Jack.’

  ‘I can’t stand hypocrisy.’ Salter screwed up his features, making it seem as though there was an unpleasant smell beneath his nose. ‘He’s supposed to lead by example. It’s a sorry state of affairs if we can’t expect men of God to conduct blameless lives.’

  ‘We are all human, and we are all fallible. That man is tormented and riddled with guilt.’

  Salter seemed unmoved. ‘So he should be,’ he said, hailing a cab to take them to King’s College Hospital and their meeting with the Huxtons.

  ‘Don’t you think it interesting that he shuddered at the thought of any form of intimate contact, sir?’ Salter asked as the conveyance moved off with them aboard. ‘None of the men she entertained that we’ve spoken to so far were granted that privilege, yet they still paid a fortune to be humiliated by her.’

  ‘Perhaps they are worried about catching diseases. We know that Wallace would have taken the risk and probably paid more for the privilege, but she still declined.’ Riley lifted a shoulder. ‘It’s odd for someone in her profession, I’ll grant you that much.’

  ‘Perhaps one of her customers felt dissatisfied because he couldn’t achieve the ultimate pleasure even though he’d paid through the nose for her services and felt entitled to receive anything he wanted in return. So he decided to come back and force the issue. He wasn’t about to let a whore call the tune indefinitely.’

  ‘It’s a possibility,’ Riley agreed, staring at the rain-slicked streets as the cab made slow progress towards the hospital. ‘But I think the crime was motivated by something more personal than that. Adelaide was sufficiently conflicted to seek comfort in religion, and yet I am convinced she left home partly to get away from her pious aunt’s influence.’

  Salter nodded. ‘Can’t say as I blame her for that. We’re no nearer to learning what was troubling her though, are we sir?’

  ‘Patience, Jack. We already know more than we did this time yesterday and we have yet to speak with your favourite suspect, her uncle Derek.’

  Salter cheered up considerably at the prospect of grilling the man. Despite the fact that the hospital was one of the sergeant’s least favourite places, he was smiling when the cab dropped them outside the austere building.

  ‘With a bit of luck, Maynard will have done the post mortem and we won’t have to endure those God-awful smells,’ he said.

  They were met in the entrance to the pathology department by Maynard himself, wearing a blood-splattered apron that caused Salter’s face to drain of all colour.

  ‘Ah, Lord Riley,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Perfect timing.’

  ‘Good morning, Dr Maynard,’ Riley replied. ‘Has the girl’s father come to identify her?’

  ‘He and his brother are upstairs. I had them remain there until you got here. I’ve just done my examination and, as you will already know, the girl died because someone, a right-handed someone, slashed her throat.’

  ‘Right-handed on what premise?’ Salter asked.

  ‘On the premise that he was standing behind her and forced her head back, sergeant. It’s very hard to slash someone’s throat when standing in front of them. They see what your intentions are and instinctively fight back, don’t you know.’ Maynard pounced forward with an imaginary knife in his hand, aimed at Salter’s throat. Salter blocked the thrust with his forearm. ‘See what I mean?’

  ‘Most unreasonable of the victim to fight for her life,’ Salter grunted.

  ‘Quite so. Besides, blood would have been splattered all over the room and the attacker’s clothing if the assault had been frontal. No, I would stake my reputation on the fact that she was attacked from behind when either standing, sitting or lying on the bed and knew little about it. She had a couple of broken nails but couldn’t have fought him off for long before blood loss caused her to lose consciousness.’

  ‘She knew her assailant and felt in control of the situation,’ Riley said, aware that Adelaide had always been in control in that room. Such was her influence over those she subjugated that she would not expect any one of them to go against her commands, even if she had not been expecting to rec
eive him after hours. He had already seen for himself just how dedicated she had been to pleasing powerful men like Danforth, Wallace and Boyland. She understood what drove them and played on their weaknesses in order to control them. If they displeased or disobeyed her, she withheld the punishments that they craved.’ He shook his head. ‘I get the impression that Adelaide had a very poor opinion of the male sex in general, and enjoyed exploiting them. I wonder what happened to her to make her so bitter.’

  ‘We know she was planning to make changes, sir,’ Salter said. ‘Perhaps the man who killed her was the one she’d been intending to go off with. Maybe she changed her mind and he lost control. We already know just how devoted to her all her customers were.’

  ‘We don’t know that her plans had changed.’

  ‘Even so, let’s suppose that I’m right. He met her in that room, either by prior arrangement or he surprised her by lying in wait, fed up with her dithering about the decision she kept putting off making. He forced her hand so she told him she wasn’t going to go off with him, he lost his temper and…well, if he couldn’t have her, no one else would.’

  ‘It’s a possibility, Jack,’ Riley conceded.

  ‘The reason I kept the relatives upstairs and wanted to speak with you first,’ Maynard said, ‘is that I came across something interesting during the course of my examination. Something I didn’t expect to find, given the girl’s occupation.’

  ‘Let me guess,’ Riley replied with a wry smile. ‘She was a virgin.’

  ‘Good lord!’ Maynard’s eyebrows disappeared beneath his hairline. ‘How on earth did you know that?’

  Chapter Eight

  Riley smiled at Maynard’s shocked expression.

  ‘All the men she entertained whom we have thus far spoken with say the same thing about her rules. Penetration was not permitted. She didn’t even like to be touched.’ Riley lifted one shoulder in a negligent shrug. ‘It seemed like a logical explanation.’

  ‘How on earth could she have risen to the position of authority that she held in that brothel if she was a virgin?’ Salter asked, shared a perplexed look with Maynard.

  ‘Perhaps because of that very thing,’ Riley said. ‘She was intelligent, we already know that much. Something, probably an advance of a sexual nature that appalled her, drove her away from home when she was only fifteen and most likely hardened her attitude towards men in general. She was a pretty girl, remember, so she had probably been receiving more than her share of attention for several years. Her mother was influenced by her sister-in-law not to believe her version of events when she reported the unwanted attention so she decided to get her revenge on the male sex in general. She got into flagellation somehow. She would have heard about it when Mrs Sinclair took her under her wing and recognised it as a means of venting her anger. She would defile men, make them dependent upon her, and then laugh in private at their perversions. But none of them would touch her, body or soul.’

  ‘Well, Lord Riley,’ Maynard said. ‘It sounds to me as though you have your work cut out in discovering which of her victims decided to take his revenge. I will allow Mr Huxton to identify his daughter and then they are all yours.’

  ‘Send them to me in your office when they’ve finished, if you please. Salter, arrange transportation for Huxton and his brother. They will be coming back to the Yard with us for a frank conversation once they’ve done the necessary here.’

  And so it was, an hour later, that both men sat, looking somewhat stunned, in separate interview rooms.

  ‘I say,’ Huxton said when Riley and Salter entered his room first. ‘What’s the meaning of keeping us here like suspects?’

  ‘I understand you identified your daughter,’ Riley replied calmly. ‘Once again, please accept my condolences on your loss.’

  Huxton, whose eyes looked red and swollen, nodded. ‘Thank you.’ A tear trickled from the corner of one eye but he didn’t seem aware of it. ‘I wish I could understand how things came to such a sorry state. My daughter turning to prostitution, and now dead. My wife dead of a broken heart. My own life rendered meaningless. I should have done something… anything. I will always blame myself.’

  ‘You’ve had time to reflect since our conversation yesterday,’ Riley said. ‘Have you reached any fresh conclusions regarding your daughter’s reasons for leaving home?’

  Huxton sighed. ‘Despite what’s happened, I cannot convince myself that my brother behaved inappropriate towards Mary. He insists that he did not and I believe him.’

  ‘Of course you do,’ Salter said derisively.

  ‘What do you mean by that, sergeant?’ Huxton’s cheeks flushed a deep shade of red. ‘Are you implying that I would take my brother’s part against my own daughter?’

  ‘I’m not implying anything, sir. I’m simply making a point. If you accept that your daughter told the truth and that none of you believed her, then you really must accept responsibility for subsequent events.’

  ‘It stands to reason that you would prefer not to think that badly of your own brother,’ Riley said, waving a placating hand towards Salter, who seemed to be allowing the parental side of his character to take precedence over interview technique once again.

  ‘I wasn’t there when the original allegation was made,’ Huxton said in a considering manner. ‘If I had been, Mary would have come to me with her accusations and the matter would have been resolved. Derek did not, would not, have overstepped the bounds of his responsibilities as an uncle, and no one will convince me otherwise. However, I suppose it’s possible that someone else did,’ he conceded.

  ‘She would unjustly accuse her own uncle?’ Salter asked in an incredulous tone.

  ‘I dare say she felt confused and afraid.’ Huxton shook his head, his voice reduced to a pathetic whisper. ‘If I had been there…’

  ‘Did you make enquiries when you first heard of her allegations?’ Salter asked. ‘Did you talk to the people who were closest to her?’ He leaned towards Huxton, his expression contemptuous. ‘Do you even know who her friends were?’

  ‘I was more concerned with trying to find my daughter than delving into her affairs, sergeant. Surely you can understand at least that much.’

  Salter sat back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, lingering contempt in his expression.

  ‘For what it’s worth, if you had been there, the allegation probably wouldn’t have arisen,’ Riley remarked.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Huxton leaned forward. ‘Are you implying that my daughter lied in an effort to draw attention to herself?’ He shook his head. ‘She would not have done that.’

  ‘Then it follows that she must have told the truth,’ Salter pointed out.

  ‘As I say, it might be possible that someone she knew but didn’t want to name overstepped the bounds—’

  ‘Then why accuse her uncle?’ Salter asked. ‘She must have known how much trouble that would create for him and her. Why not simply remain quiet?’

  Huxton dropped his head into his hands. ‘You can have no idea how ardently I wish I could give you an answer to that question. I think of little else. Sometimes I think I have completely lost my mind…’

  ‘Did your daughter and your brother have a congenial relationship?’ Riley asked.

  ‘I always thought so. I was never told of any tensions, but Derek was often there when I was not and assumed responsibility as man of the house. It’s possible that he denied some request on Mary’s part to go somewhere he thought inappropriate, but she wouldn’t take revenge by inventing wicked lies. The girl I remember didn’t have a malevolent bone in her body. She was obedient, dutiful and affectionate.’

  ‘Just supposing for the sake of argument that your daughter’s allegations were true and that your brother had taken an unnatural interest in her, he would keep that interest well-hidden when you were at home.’

  ‘Derek is incapable of such behaviour.’ Huxton let out an angry breath. ‘How many more times must I te
ll you?’

  ‘Your sister,’ Riley said in an abrupt change of tack. ‘She holds a position of influence in your household. You claim that your daughter was obedient and affectionate, yet Miss Huxton implies the opposite.’

  ‘Ruth has had a difficult time, inspector. Oh, I know how she must seem to an outsider, and I will admit that her views on certain subjects remain intransigent. She is very devout, which I find trying myself sometimes,’ he said with the ghost of a sad smile. ‘She was not always thus. Our mother died when Ruth was sixteen. I was ten and Derek eight. Our father was building up the business that I inherited and was seldom home, so Ruth became mother to two rumbustious boys. She raised us, if you like.’

  ‘And sacrificed her own hopes of making a good marriage in the process,’ Riley suggested.

  ‘Not precisely. She was walking out with a young man of whom our father approved. She wasn’t at all like she is now. She laughed a lot and was good company. But then her best friend somehow enticed her fiancé away from her—’

  ‘Some friend,’ Salter muttered.

  ‘Quite. She changed after that. She became bitter and turned to religion. Her friend was far prettier than she was, you see, so she blamed her plain appearance for her fiancé’s desertion and has looked upon all pretty women with a jaundiced eye ever since. She advised me most strongly against marrying my wife, for no other reason that she was glorious to look at. She was also sweet-natured and biddable and the marriage was, for the most part, a happy one.’

  ‘Your sister lived with you?’ Salter asked.

  ‘Oh yes. The house was my father’s and had always been Ruth’s home. She looked after us when we were children and it was time for me to return the favour.’