George shook his head. Like me, I was sure he realized any explanation would only make this worse.
With a huff, Delaney came to a stop and glared at us both with his hands on his hips. “If you were anyone else, I’d have arrested you already. But there’s really no point, is there? Your friends at the Home Office would come charging to your rescue. I doubt you’d be in a cell for more than a day.”
He loomed over George, who appeared remarkably calm, one arm draped over the back of his chair. Delaney held up his index finger. “Once more, Hazelton. You interfere once more, and I’ll take that day. At least I’ll know where you are and what you’re up to for twenty-four hours.”
“As for you.” He turned his head, and I was struck with the full intensity of his glare. “I expect you to talk sense into this man. You’re not doing yourselves any favors when witnesses tell my constables they’ve been questioned by Lady Harleigh.”
That had to be Sally Cooper, the wretch.
“Or when the charwoman describes the actors she found in Gilliam’s office, and they bear a striking resemblance to you two.”
“You’re right, Inspector,” I said. “It’s much better if you arrive at the scene first.”
“Keep that in mind next time. I’m probably just wasting my breath here. You can’t keep your noses out of this investigation any more than I can, but try to remember that I am the only one authorized to investigate. When you get ahead of us, I have to worry that you’re tampering with evidence.”
“For the record, Inspector,” George said, “you are not the only one authorized to investigate. And it won’t be the Home Office coming to my rescue, but the Prince of Wales himself.”
Delaney swung around to face George, who raised his hands helplessly. “If you hadn’t told his man we’d be at the opera, he wouldn’t have had the chance to ask me to investigate the threats Irena received.”
“Surely he didn’t expect you to investigate her murder?” Delaney’s tone had changed from heated to merely peevish.
“You have only to arrest me to find out. I don’t think His Royal Highness will take it kindly.”
Delaney swept off his hat and ran a hand through his hair. “Well, did you find anything we missed?”
“Bradmore has a good claret in the next room.”
“Let’s have it, then. Lord knows I’ve earned it.”
George gave me a wink and stepped through an open doorway. I glanced tentatively at Delaney. “You don’t really believe either of us murdered her, do you?”
“I’m fairly certain you didn’t, but when you or your names keep turning up in the investigation, people do begin to wonder.”
George returned with an open bottle of claret in one hand and three glasses in the other. Delaney pulled up a chair, and we all used the desk as a table. Delaney finished off his drink in one long gulp.
“Whoa there, Inspector,” George said, filling the glass once more. “You’re hardly doing the stuff justice when you gulp it like that.”
“I’m not worried about justice for a glass of wine.” His gaze traveled back and forth between us. “Tell me what you think of that lot at the theater.”
“That would be Lady Harleigh’s report.” George gave me a smile. “I never spoke to them.”
Relieved Delaney wasn’t slapping us in irons, I responded eagerly. “Sally Cooper and Herbert Gilliam both had motives.”
“Her partner, eh? Why him?”
“As part of their agreement, Miss Teskey insisted on playing the lead role, and from all reports, she was a terrible actress. If she continued to star in the productions, the theater would never survive.” I took a sip of the claret. “And I assume you found the insurance policy.”
He nodded. “What about the actress?”
“Same circumstance except for the insurance. Miss Cooper had the talent and should have played the lead. Now that Miss Teskey’s gone, she has the part she always deserved. She also lied about her whereabouts at the time of the murder. According to her, the only time she wasn’t at the theater with the rest of the cast was when she and another actress, Caro, shared a meal at the local pub. Caro was clearly surprised to hear about that.”
Delaney chuckled. “She was a little more inventive with my constable, but it was a cock-and-bull story if I ever heard one.”
I felt a little better that she’d lied to the police, as well.
“We’ll get to the truth eventually,” Delaney continued, “but I have two problems with your suspects. They were on the other side of Mayfair from your house. They broke for lunch at a busy time of day. They had only an hour to travel across town, find Miss Teskey, strangle her, and return to the theater. And everyone in the cast agrees they were both there for the afternoon rehearsals. I’m not saying it couldn’t be done, but they’d have to move quickly.”
“They’d also have to know where to find her,” George said.
Delaney lifted his glass in a mock toast. “That’s the other problem. How would they know where she was?”
“Miss Teskey sent no messages when she was at my home, but what if one of them had been following her when she was arrested? She did say someone had been following her.”
“They might have seen her arrested, but then what? Did they wait outside the precinct while constables came and went? It was a good hour before I brought her to your home. They’d have looked too conspicuous.”
“Yes, and once you and Irena left in a hack, they’d have lost you,” George added.
I couldn’t entirely agree with either of them. The streets of London were never empty, and as theater people, they’d have known how to blend into a crowd. They might well have heard Delaney give the direction to the driver. My theory was too weak to propose, but I wasn’t ready to take Gilliam or Sally Cooper off my list.
“What about the man she mentioned?” George asked. “Igor? The one who’s supposed to be a sort of bodyguard for her.”
“Poor sort of bodyguard, if you ask me,” Delaney said. “How did he manage to lose track of her?”
I’d forgotten about Igor. “Perhaps he didn’t lose her. Maybe he was just keeping his distance.”
Delaney drained his glass, then placed his hand over the top when George offered to fill it. “Bradmore’s my prime suspect right now, and I have a good idea where to find him.”
We both turned inquisitive eyes to him.
Delaney lifted his fuzzy brows. “I’m keeping that information to myself. That’s the benefit of finally having arrived and searched this place before you. I know his whereabouts, and you don’t.”
“I wasn’t aware you had such a cruel streak, Delaney,” George said. “You dangle information in front of us, only to snatch it back.”
“I can just imagine what would happen if I told you. You’d be off like a shot. But . . . ,” He left a long pause. “Since the two of you are so interested in this investigation, there is something you could do.” He shrugged. “Just to keep you busy and out of trouble.”
“We’re listening,” George said. Indeed, we were on the edges of our seats.
“I’d like to find out more about her family situation. Her relationship with the Romanovs and the people who raised her. The grand duke refuses to talk with the police. Claims he has nothing to offer. If you could get some information from him, well, I might be willing to overlook this bit of housebreaking.”
“I’m sure I could do that,” George said. “But you don’t think her father’s family had anything to do with her death, do you?”
“Who can say? She was kept out of the way, in the country by a sort of foster family. She was a wealthy woman playing at being an actress. Maybe she was an embarrassment to the family.”
“They aren’t an easy family to embarrass, but I see what you mean. I can’t promise results, but I’ll have a go at it.”
“Good enough.” Delaney put on his hat and made as if to leave. “And if you happen to run this Igor fellow to ground, I’d like to talk with him, too.”
Chapter Fourteen
The next morning brought another lengthy telegram from my mother. I certainly hoped George or Hetty or perhaps my father was invested in the telegraph company. As long as Mother was in Paris, it seemed they’d do a booming business. As no one waited for a reply, I ignored the missive while Hetty and I enjoyed a peaceful breakfast.
“Ah, here’s the story you were expecting from the Daily Observer.”
I turned to Hetty with interest as she shook out and refolded the broadsheet.
“Let’s see . . . The Metropolitan Police have a new suspect in the Irena Teskey murder.”
“That isn’t much help,” I said. “Readers might just assume I’m the new suspect.”
“Not as long as you remain in town, dear. It says the suspect led the police on a merry chase to the Continent.”
“Much better. In fact, I quite like the idea that the culprit is no longer in London. I’ll have to give Mosley my compliments. Anything else?”
Hetty scanned the paper. “It just goes on to state who Miss Teskey is. At least there’s no mention of where the murder took place, or of you or Hazelton.”
“That’s a relief.”
Hetty folded the paper and placed it next to her plate when Jenny brought in a note from George. “I’ll leave you to your correspondence, dear, as I have some to attend to myself.”
Since I’d finished my breakfast, I moved to the library, where I opened George’s note first. It was to inform me he’d obtained an appointment with Grand Duke Michael Mikhailovich that very afternoon and to invite me to come with him. I loved that he had thought to include me. Next, I turned to the telegram.
Greetings, my dear, or as they say in Paris, bonjour! The weather here is rather dreary, but since I suspect yours is likely worse, I won’t complain. Rose is doing well, and her French is progressing, which is fortunate for us, as everyone here speaks French. I’m aware that sounds nonsensical, but when you and I were last here, it seemed English was spoken all over Paris. That has certainly not been my experience on this trip. Whenever I request something, they look at me as if they have no idea what I’m saying. Except at Worth, of course. Rose chose the embroidered silk for you, and it should be ready in three days. Do let me know if the engagement party has been canceled.
I shook my head and took a sip of my coffee. Would she never give up? She’d been less than thrilled at my choice to marry a man without a title, and a third son at that, but I thought she’d come to accept George as her future son-in-law.
I ask because there was a disturbing piece of news in the London paper today about a woman who was arrested during a kerfuffle outside Marlborough House. She identified herself as Mrs. George Hazelton. She could not have meant our Mr. Hazelton, could she?
Blast! The last thing I needed was for Mother to get wind of this nasty rumor. I’d have to reply to this and give her the truth before she read any more London newspapers. Perhaps I could refer her to the Observer.
I returned to the telegram. There was one more paragraph.
We came across Mr. Percy Bradmore in our travels yesterday. Do you recall he’d been staying with Hazelton’s neighbor in the country last month? I invited him to dine with us this evening, but he declined. Apparently, he’s here only for a brief visit. Such a charming man, and in line for a title.
I fanned myself with the telegram until my heart returned to its normal rhythm. Thank heavens he had declined her invitation. Perhaps there was no proof Bradmore was a murderer, but I still didn’t want him anywhere near my daughter.
Once I calmed down, I gave Bradmore’s travels some thought. How interesting that he’d left London. Just like the story in the Observer. Either Mosley was prescient or he was a better reporter than I’d given him credit for. I wondered if Bradmore had told Mother his stay was to be short, or if she just assumed it. Where would he be off to next, and would Delaney catch up with him? Whatever his plans, I needed to convey this information to George.
I penned a short note to George to accept his invitation and to inform him of Bradmore’s whereabouts. Then I spent the next half hour composing a telegram that would convince my mother to ignore anything she read in the papers about George. Since everything either was or would soon be resolved, I assured her the engagement party was still planned. Then, without actually calling Bradmore a murderer, I indicated he was up to some mischief and she should take every care to avoid him if they happened to cross paths again. Mother hated scandal, so my hints should keep her and Rose safely out of his way.
I was just handing the message off to Jenny to deliver for me when Mrs. Thompson stepped into the library to announce that Mrs. Stoke-Whitney had arrived. Odd to see Alicia so frequently, but perhaps there’d been a change in circumstance regarding her banishment. I had Mrs. Thompson put her in the drawing room and handed Jenny the second note, to be delivered to George as soon as may be.
As I was still dressed for morning, I debated changing my gown. It would serve Alicia right to make her wait while I did so. We were not exactly the type of friends upon which one could drop in unannounced at such an early hour. Then I felt petty and decided to greet her as I was, and even instructed Mrs. Thompson to bring tea when I met her on my way to the drawing room.
Alicia awaited me in one of the chairs at the tea table, impeccably turned out, as usual. At least I thought so until I drew closer and noted the pallor behind her rouged cheeks and the riding gloves she wore with her carriage dress.
“Good morning, Alicia. You seem a bit out of sorts today.”
She raised her hands. “Do you mean these? I was in a hurry to be off this morning and couldn’t wait for my maid to find the right gloves.”
“I’ve never known you to be in a hurry. What is wrong? Has your husband not succumbed to your plans?”
“He is proving to be stubborn.” She cocked her head and met my gaze with a smirk. “You seem chipper for a woman whose fiancé is the talk of the town.”
I seated myself in the chair opposite hers. “I was chipper until this moment. How fortunate I am to have you to remind me of my problems.”
“When last I saw you, it was my understanding you and Hazelton had this entire Miss Teskey debacle under control. But it’s only grown larger and more scandalous. What do you intend to do about it?” She tapped her gloved finger on the tea table like an irate customer at a shop.
“Good heavens, Alicia. You forget yourself. How dare you come here making demands? The situation gained momentum when the poor girl was murdered. How could we have foreseen that?”
She sat back and placed a hand over her mouth, as if she was shocked, but I wasn’t finished. “When did you become the arbiter of good behavior, anyway? And how is this any concern of yours?”
To my amazement, she managed to squeeze a tear from her eye that trailed down her cheek. Even Sally Cooper would envy Alicia’s skill. Before I could call out her fakery, Mrs. Thompson entered with the tea things. Alicia turned her head and blotted her eyes, causing the housekeeper to cast a wary glance my way. Lovely. Now my housekeeper thought I had brought the woman to tears.
When Mrs. Thompson left the room, I poured the tea and handed a cup to Alicia. “I’d still like an answer to my question. How do my problems affect you?”
“Have you forgotten your promise to sponsor Harriet this spring?”
“Of course not, but I thought you were using your wiles on your husband to convince him to allow you to remain in town. Has your plan gone awry?”
She heaved a sigh and took a sip of tea. “Arthur has become as immune to my wiles as you seem to be. He’s determined to send me to the country.” She shook her head. “I suppose I should be grateful he’s not trying to send me to a convent somewhere, but my banishment is a certain thing. Which is why your problems, as you call them, are affecting me. He has concerns about asking you to sponsor Harriet.”
“Truly? He has some cheek to judge my behavior.”
“That’s not it, Frances. You k
now how he is. You and Hazelton could have murdered the woman and buried her in your garden for all he cares.”
“I’m growing weary of repeating this, but we had nothing to do with her death.”
She waved a hand. “That’s not the point. I’m just saying as long as there was no scandal attached, he wouldn’t care what you got up to. But now there is a scandal. People are whispering that Hazelton was married to Miss Teskey. How on earth did you let that get out?”
My fingers dug into the padded arm of my chair, and I must be forgiven if, just for an instant, I wished it was her neck I was squeezing. “We didn’t let it get out, and unless one constable at the Chelsea precinct has a multitude of sisters in service throughout the neighborhood, my guess is you let it slip.”
Her eyes rounded. “Me? I never engage in gossip.”
“I beg to differ with you. It was you who brought her up when we were at the opera. Mr. Bradmore was standing behind you and heard you mention Miss Teskey’s name. Any number of people might have overheard you.”
She opened and closed her mouth several times before releasing a groan of frustration. “Well, you must do something to rein this in before it’s too late.”
“I assure you I’m as concerned about this scandal as you are, and we are working to put an end to it. There was a story in the Daily Observer this very morning indicating that the police are investigating another suspect in the case—one who is no longer in town. I happen to know Delaney is searching for the man. The truth should come out soon. Everyone will learn Hazelton wasn’t her husband, and he didn’t murder her. What more am I supposed to do?” I ended with my hands in the air, wondering why I was defending my actions, or lack of them, to her.
“If, after all this, your husband still doesn’t want me to sponsor Harriet, then you’ll simply have to find someone else,” I added.
Alicia set down her cup and moved to the edge of her seat. “That’s not as easy as you make it sound, Frances. No other lady in town would make any effort to assist me.” She frowned. “I don’t get on with other ladies at all. Not like I do with you.”
A Fiancée's Guide to First Wives and Murder Page 16
