Death of a Courtesan: Riley Rochester Investigates

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Death of a Courtesan: Riley Rochester Investigates Page 14

by Wendy Soliman


  Chapter Nine

  Riley and Salter returned to the Yard, mulling over what they had just learned for the duration of the journey.

  ‘This Clement,’ Salter said. ‘I find it hard to believe that the man Stout heard shouting the odds in a tavern was actually a wine merchant based somewhere like Dover Street.’

  ‘Perhaps there is more than one Clement. Stout insisted that he man he heard ranting hailed from Billingsgate, and he is almost never wrong. However, we shall investigate tomorrow and doubtless discover what’s what.’

  ‘It can’t be a coincidence, Adelaide being seen in the company of a vintner,’ Salter said as they arrived at the Yard and made their way to Riley’s office. ‘Your theory about her striking back against her family’s stronghold is looking more and more likely.’

  ‘No, Jack, it’s no coincidence.’ Riley threw himself into his chair and took a moment to consider the matter. ‘The more I learn about her background the more convinced I become that she was intent upon seeing her entire family destroyed. She lived and, it seems, died thirsting for revenge.’

  ‘She intended to undermine her family’s business?’ Salter looked dubious. ‘How would a slip of a girl manage that? I don’t care how knowledgeable she was or how much money she’d accumulated, she still wouldn’t be taken seriously.’

  ‘She would not have had enough capital to set up in competition. Huxton’s Vintners supply a lot of the gentlemen’s clubs and private residences that can afford quality produce—but still, she clearly had something in mind. Since we are unable to ask her, hopefully Clement will enlighten us when we speak to him.’ Riley yawned behind his hand. ‘Go home, Jack. I will see the superintendent alone.’

  ‘Don’t you want to see Tennyson today and ask him about his criminal record?’

  ‘It can wait. Everything can. We know from the reports submitted by Peterson and his colleagues left inside Mrs Sinclair’s establishment that nothing untoward happened there after our departure. Tennyson is still carrying on with his usual duties and the girls are twiddling their thumbs, bemoaning their lack of income. We’ll make Tennyson our first visit tomorrow and then give Mrs Sinclair permission to reopen. Who knows, perhaps the perpetrator will want to see what effect his handiwork has had on business. Stranger things have been known to happen. After seeing Tennyson and Mrs Sinclair we’ll call upon Adelaide’s brothers and then the mysterious Clement.’

  ‘Right you are then, sir. Good night.’

  ‘Good night, Jack. My regards to your wife.’

  Riley made his way to the superintendent’s office to give his promised daily report. He explained that Carter and Soames had interviewed Adelaide’s other clients on the night in question but neither had anything to say that would help the enquiry. All that concerned them was keeping their name out of things since they were both married men with reputations to protect. He then went on to tell his superior about his visit to the Huxtons and Mrs Arnold’s revelations regarding a second man by the name of Clement who just happened to be a vintner. Thompson listened without interrupting—a feat that had always eluded Danforth— who felt the need to exert his authority by questioning or contradicting whatever Riley told him.

  ‘You believe the girl told the truth about her uncle?’ he asked.

  ‘What I believe, sir, doesn’t signify. I think Adelaide was an intelligent young woman out for revenge against a family that had let her down. How, I have yet to decide but hopefully a visit to Clement in the morning will shed some light.’

  ‘You are satisfied that Danforth didn’t kill the girl?’

  ‘I can’t see that he had any reason to unless, of course, she attempted to blackmail him. If she was foolish enough to try it we will never be able to prove it, but as I say everything I have thus far learned about the girl points to her being anything other than foolish.’

  ‘It would give Danforth a compelling motive though.’

  ‘True, but the moment he felt threatened by Adelaide, he could have used his position here to act swiftly and decisively.’

  ‘Shut the establishment down, you mean?’ Thompson nodded, not waiting for a response. ‘Or simply make Adelaide disappear.’

  ‘Precisely. If he had reason to kill her, he would surely have found a less obvious way of doing so. He’d hardly draw attention to killing her on a night when he’d know his presence there would come to light. In my view the chief inspector is guilty only of lack of judgement. This killing was symbolic. Someone wanted her found in order to send a warning or cause maxim embarrassment for Mrs Sinclair.’

  ‘It could have been one of Sinclair’s rivals, you think?’

  Riley shrugged. ‘Anything’s possible.’

  ‘It’s a damned mess.’ Thompson shook his head. ‘Anyway, I can’t see any way back from this for Danforth, no matter what the outcome.’

  ‘He’s never tried to make himself popular, so if his involvement does leak out he can’t expect an easy time of it.’

  ‘I might have to move him back into uniform and put him in another division.’

  Riley made no response, aware that the superintendent was thinking aloud rather than asking for his opinion.

  ‘Right, Rochester, I’ll leave things in your capable hands. Report to me again tomorrow.’

  ‘I will do that, sir,’ Riley said, standing. ‘Good night.’

  By the time Riley reached home, his thoughts had moved from his current investigation and now dwelt upon the uncomfortable state of affairs between himself and Amelia. It was a situation that he would have to rectify before they arrived at his sister’s soiree. How, he had yet to decide. He bathed and changed in a state of considerable distraction, secure in the knowledge that Stout would attend to his duties without interrupting his cogitations.

  Half an hour before he was due to collect her, Stout brought Riley’s carriage to a halt outside Amelia’s door.

  ‘Keep the horses warm, Stout,’ he said, alighting from the conveyance. ‘I shall be a while.’

  Stout nodded and asked no questions.

  Riley was admitted to the house by Norris, who took his hat and informed him that Amelia was in the drawing room.

  ‘No need to announce me, Norris,’ he said, feeling unsure about his reception and not wanting Norris to witness any awkwardness between them.

  He found Amelia already dressed for the evening in an attractive turquoise gown that swished as she paced up and down the room, muttering to herself. She only realised that Riley was there when he cleared his throat. She turned abruptly to face him. A veil descended over her eyes, making it impossible for Riley to interpret her emotional state.

  ‘You are early.’ She made it sound like an accusation.

  ‘Good evening, Amelia. We need to talk.’

  ‘If you are worried about the things I said to you last night, then there is no need. Clearly I mistook the situation.’ She spoke flippantly but was unable to disguise the acute embarrassment that filtered through her expression. ‘The matter is quite forgotten.’

  Riley stepped forward, took her hand and kissed the back of it. Without releasing it, he led her to the nearest couch and waited until she sat before taking the seat beside her.

  ‘I was the one at fault. I never should have given way to temptation and kissed you.’

  ‘Temptation?’ She made a scoffing sound at the back of her throat.

  ‘You can have no idea how long I have wanted to kiss you,’ he said softly. ‘My difficulty is that our friendship prospers because you harbour no expectations and I have been at pains not to spoil things.’

  She looked astonished. ‘I thought you wanted, needed to feel…well, unpursued,’ she said distractedly, turning her face away so that he couldn’t read her expression.

  ‘Perhaps I did, given my mother’s artless attempts to marry me off. But I have feelings too, as well as expectations resting on my shoulders.’ He gently ran his fingers down the length of hers, allowing her tim
e to digest what he had just told her.

  ‘I don’t…’ She swallowed, looking endearingly confused, and Riley’s heart melted. She was so self-assured as a general rule. This vulnerability was a side of her he had never encountered before, and it only succeeded in increasing his admiration for her. ‘What is it that you want from me?’ she asked. ‘You are confusing me, Riley. If you are not in need of a mistress, then what?’

  ‘What indeed? That is a subject that we ought to discuss at length. For now I simply want the assurance of your continued friendship. I want to go back to the way things were before.’ Not that they ever could, and Amelia probably knew it as well as he did. The memory of the heated kiss they had shared would complicate everything and, for Riley’s part at least, make him yearn for more. So very much more. Tell me, Amelia. Tell me what your husband did to make you so unsure of yourself. ‘I would never insult you by inviting you to become my mistress.’

  ‘Are you that bad a lover?’

  Her feeble attempt at a joke failed to lighten the mood.

  ‘There is so much about you that I don’t know, but you are entitled to your privacy.’

  ‘About my marriage, you mean.’

  ‘You are fiercely opposed to the possibility of marrying again. You have made that abundantly clear.’

  She stood and glanced out the window. The rain had started to fall again. ‘Your horses are getting wet. We should go.’

  Riley wanted to push the issue, sensing that she was close to opening up to him, but gentlemanly conduct held him back. ‘Just as long as we are comfortable with one another again.’

  ‘I am never comfortable with you, Riley, which is why I enjoy your society. You are unpredictable, challenging and keep me on my toes.’ This time her smiled reached her eyes. ‘Sophia sent me a message today, by the way,’ she said, the deliberate change of subject implying that the discussion about personal matters had reached its end, at least for now. Riley was unable to decide if he was more relieved or frustrated that so much still remained unsaid between them. He ought to be relieved, because his constant state of frustration when he was anywhere near Amelia and his determination not to take her as his mistress, left him with only one alternative. If he proposed to her, he was by no means certain that she would accept him. And if she did he would have to weather the storm of protest from his family that such a decision was bound to create. ‘Her father has unexpectedly arrived in London and is residing with your mother, which means he will be in attendance tonight.’

  ‘Which also means I shall be more in need of your protection than ever.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ she laughed. ‘I won’t allow your big brother to bully you.’

  ‘I depend upon you for that.’

  Riley helped Amelia into her evening cape and then donned his hat. Stout opened the carriage door as they approached it and Amelia greeted him with warmth. She made no secret of the fact that she was fond of Stout.

  ‘I wonder what brings Henry to London,’ Riley said as the carriage moved off.

  ‘Perhaps he just wants to see you.’

  Riley shook his head. ‘That I very much doubt.’

  ‘Could it be that he simply wanted to check upon his daughter’s wellbeing?’

  Riley grunted. ‘Not a hope in hell. He barely acknowledges her existence.’

  ‘Poor Sophia. But at least she is assured of your attention.’

  Several carriages already lined the street where Riley’s sister lived. Stout drove as close to the front door as he was able and a footman bearing an umbrella descended upon the conveyance to protect them from the worst of the elements when they alighted from it. The moment they stepped inside and divested themselves of their outdoor garments, Sophia danced up to them in a flurry of pink muslin.

  ‘Uncle Riley, there you are!’ she cried, beaming.

  ‘Indeed I am. Good evening Cabbage. How are you?’

  ‘Oh, exceedingly well. Good evening, Mrs Cosgrove. Thank you so much for coming.’

  ‘I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.’

  ‘Papa is here,’ Sophia said in a conspiratorial whisper, ‘and has left Jasper at home.’ Her smile widened. ‘Only imagine.’

  ‘I barely can.’

  But Riley was still suspicious of his brother’s sudden appearance. He disliked London, his visits were always planned well in advance and usually took place after Christmas when the season was at its height and everyone worth knowing was in town. Besides, as Sophia had just implied, he was besotted with his son, fretted constantly about his delicate health and seldom went anywhere without him.

  ‘Shall we, ladies?’ He offered one arm to Amelia and the other to his niece.

  Riley had a great deal of time for his sister Martha and her husband, the viscount Gaston. He greeted them both warmly and then submitted himself to his mother’s not-so-tender mercies.

  ‘There you are, Riley. Why are you always the last to arrive?’ she asked, offering her cheek for the obligatory peck.

  ‘I was unaware that I was, Mother,’ he replied.

  ‘Good evening, Mrs Cosgrove,’ his mother said stiffly. ‘So kind of you to teach Sophia the harp. Decent instructors are so hard to come by nowadays.’

  Riley’s entire body stiffened at the insult. Even by his mother’s standards, this was a new low. Amelia’s fingers gave his forearm, upon which they rested, a warning squeeze.

  ‘Thank you so much for the compliment, ma’am. It means a great deal to me. Sophia is a diligent pupil and a delight to teach, which is why I make no charge for the service.’

  ‘Yes…well.’

  Riley wanted to applaud. Not many people managed to reduce his mother to a stammering wreck. ‘What’s Henry doing here?’ he asked, nodding towards the portly form of his brother, holding court on the opposite side of the room.

  ‘It would be a sorry state of affairs if you brother could not visit London and his relations whenever the fancy takes him.’

  ‘Indeed, but the fancy so rarely does. It makes one wonder.’

  ‘Ah, there you are Riley.’

  Henry crossed the room to join Riley. The brothers shook hands and Henry, who’d always had an eye for a pretty lady, greeted Amelia with far greater warmth than his mother had deemed appropriate.

  ‘Sophia and I will leave you gentlemen to become reacquainted,’ Amelia said, extracting her hand from the crook of Riley’s arm. ‘We must prepare for our recital.’

  ‘Be kind to us, Papa,’ Sophia said. ‘Mrs Cosgrove is very good but I’m just a beginner.’

  ‘You will be fine, Cabbage,’ Riley assured her when her father didn’t deem her entreaty worthy of a response.

  ‘What brings you to the capital?’ Riley asked, strolling across the room at his brother’s side, greeting acquaintances as they went.

  ‘I needed a private word with you about…well, something delicate.’

  Riley raised a brow. It was unlike his brother to be anything other than supercilious and self-assured. ‘Well, here I am. Is everything all right, Henry? You don’t look yourself.’

  ‘We can’t talk here. Perhaps in the study.’

  ‘Sophia is about to play the harp,’ Riley said, an edge to his voice. ‘Don’t disappoint her any more than you already do.’

  Riley was surprised when his sharp words failed to produce the expected reprimand from a brother who never allowed anyone else, especially not his younger sibling, to lay down the law. Instead he and Riley stood at the back of the room as Amelia and Sophia took their seats at a pair of harps and ran their fingers over the strings to the accompaniment of polite applause.

  ‘La Dance des Fées,’ Riley said, recognising the opening stanza and smiling at Sophia’s look of intense concentration.

  He was agreeably surprised by his niece’s competency, although perhaps he should not have been. She was a clever girl who excelled at anything she set her mind to. She made one or two mistakes that were covered by
the skill of Amelia’s playing and at the end of the piece the applause, led by Riley, was loud and appreciative.

  ‘You should be proud of her,’ he said to Henry, watching Sophia as she accepted the accolades heaped upon her with a broad smile. ‘She’s a credit to you.’

  ‘Who?’

  Riley inhaled sharply. ‘Clearly you are distracted but surely you haven’t forgotten that Sophia is your daughter.’

  ‘No, no, of course not. Forgive me. I have a lot of my mind.’

  ‘How’s Jasper?’ Riley asked, watching Amelia and Sophia making their way slowly towards them, stopping now and then to receive more compliments upon their performance.

  ‘Troubled by his weak chest, as always.’

  ‘Then I am surprised you left him. I know how much you worry.’

  ‘I wouldn’t have to if only you would—’

  ‘Leave it, Henry,’ Riley responded mildly, relieved to have extracted a reaction from his brother, even if that reaction was boring in its predictability. A pompous, dictatorial Henry he could handle. It was the distracted brother who didn’t seem to know what day of the week it was that threw Riley off kilter. ‘I get enough lectures on that score from our mother and will not be coerced into doing anything I would prefer not to.’

  ‘Would that we could all adopt your selfish attitude and play at being policemen.’ Henry gave a contemptuous snarl that was far more typical of the brother Riley knew so well and had such little respect for. ‘Some of us care about the future of this family and take our responsibilities seriously.’

  ‘You are the marquess, Henry. I seem to recall then when I last offered my help and advice it was brusquely declined.’ Riley lodged one shoulder against a pillar and viewed his brother with an expression of mild condemnation. ‘You cannot have it both ways.’

  ‘Yes well, times change. Perhaps I was a little hasty.’

  ‘It’s too late to turn back the clock. I have made a life for myself here and am perfectly content with it.’

  ‘We have strayed from the point. As I say, I need to speak with you in private.’

 

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