“Was? Do you mean to say he managed to obtain a divorce in a matter of days?” She set her cup on the table with such force, I was astonished it didn’t shatter. “Don’t string me along with tiny bits and bobs. I insist you tell me the whole story immediately.”
While I complied, her eyes grew larger, and her fingers squeezed the walking stick so tightly, I expected the silver head to pop off. The one thing I didn’t mention was how Bradmore came to meet Irena in the first place. His work for the Crown wasn’t relevant to this discussion and wasn’t something Lady Esther was likely to learn of, unless Bradmore chose to tell her. It wasn’t my place to do so.
“Then that young woman I read about, the one who was murdered, she was my nephew’s wife? Not Hazelton’s?” She heaved a sigh. “You may as well tell me. Is he suspected of killing her?”
I actually began to feel some remorse about giving her this information. She was taking it far better than I’d expected, and I had to admire her for that. “I’m afraid he is a suspect. It didn’t help that immediately following the crime, he left for Paris.”
She let out a groan. “Idiots,” she said, shaking her head. “Men are complete idiots.”
“Inspector Delaney of the Metropolitan Police followed him there. I understand he has arrested your nephew and is returning with him to London. Even so, it is not at all certain that Bradmore will be charged with this crime. There are other suspects.”
“If that is an attempt to jolly me out of my present distress, you may save your breath. I don’t for one minute believe he murdered the chit. I’m just annoyed he allowed himself to come under suspicion.” She pressed her lips into a thin line. “Then, to make it worse by running away. His actions defy logic. But this is good for you, I suppose. Your Mr. Hazelton must be absolved of the crime if my nephew was the poor fool married to her.”
“I must admit that revelation brought me some relief, but as I said, Bradmore may not be charged with the crime. I’d like to discuss one of the other suspects with you, if I may. Miss Teskey had received at least two threatening letters since coming to London.”
“You cannot imagine they came from me. I had no knowledge of the girl until her name appeared in the papers.”
“We don’t yet know who sent the letters. I don’t mean to suggest you had anything to do with them, but I did hope you had some prior knowledge of Miss Teskey. She was the offspring of Alexei Alexandrovich Romanov and a married British woman of the upper classes. It was twenty-four years ago, and I would imagine there were some whisperings among the ton.”
She raised her brows. “And you assume I had some role in those whispers?”
I took a sip of tea. “Only on the receiving end, of course.”
“How does this signify in the matter of the girl’s murder?”
“I don’t know that it does, but whoever wrote the letters told her to leave London. I’m sure the husband of her mother would have been distressed to see Miss Teskey in London. After all, he thought he’d rid himself of her long ago.”
“Of course.” She pursed her lips as she studied me. “I may have heard something about Alexei, but I’m afraid you’re about to be disappointed if you think I can tell you who the woman was.”
“Your nephew will be even more disappointed.”
Her eyes flashed. “You mistake me. I am not dissembling. Something of this nature is almost impossible to keep secret. It would be whispered about still if the mother were alive. But when a woman dies giving birth, one keeps those little barbs to oneself. Even the worst gossips have some decency. I’m afraid you are also asking me to stretch my memory back too far. I do recall he visited here, whether that was twenty-four years ago, or more or less, I couldn’t say. Many women flirted with him. He was an attractive man, and had one conducted an affair with him, it would hardly be of note, you know.”
She was right. I was terribly disappointed. I had underestimated the discretion of society at large. Yes, they could keep a secret, but I didn’t think they could prevent someone like Lady Esther from finding it out.
“There is one thing.” She held up a finger as she stared through me, focused on a memory. “Again, I couldn’t tell you if the timing is right or not, but there was a delegation to Saint Petersburg somewhere around that time. In addition to the prince, several MPs made up the group, and of course, they took their wives.” She held up a hand before I could ask my questions. “I have no idea who they were, my dear. All I know is I wasn’t part of the delegation.”
I filed the information away for later discussion with George. It was a good lead, but I had no idea how to go about following it. As it seemed I’d exhausted her store of information, I took my leave. Perhaps Mr. Petrov had returned with some news by now.
* * *
Petrov stepped through George’s door as the carriage pulled up before my house. Once Jack had helped me down, I’d have scurried over there myself if I hadn’t spotted Mrs. Chiswick walking down the street in my direction. Instead, I let myself into my own house and made straight for the library and the door to the garden. When I reached the back of George’s house, I spied him and Petrov speaking in his study and quickened my step. Both men glanced out the window as I sped by. George was opening the door to his drawing room just as I arrived.
“Your timing is perfect,” he said, taking my hand and leading me into the study. “Petrov is just giving me his report on the alibis of the theater folk.”
I stopped at the doorway. “That’s the errand you sent him on? A man who barely speaks English?”
“He seemed to think he could do it.” He lowered his voice. “And I needed to get him out of the house.”
“That’s right. You planned to check his belongings. Did you find anything?”
“Nothing of importance.” He gestured to the doorway. “Shall we?”
The large Russian gave me a nod as I seated myself beside him in one of the club chairs near the window. George leaned against the desk.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Petrov,” I said in French. “I understand you’ve been to the theater. Did you happen to speak to Sally Cooper?”
“Not to her, no. She only speaks English, but one of the other actresses spoke to me.”
“She spoke French?”
He shook his head, and his expression brightened. “Olga is Russian. We’ve spoken many times when I came to fetch Irena. She came here many years ago, but she still remembers the old language.”
I gained the impression Petrov had enjoyed many talks with Olga. Well, good for him.
“I told her Sally gave two different stories about where she was during the break in rehearsal that day, and asked if she knew where the woman really was. Olga didn’t want to tell me, but I reminded her how much Sally hated Irena. Olga, she has a soft heart. She didn’t want me to blame Sally when she didn’t do it.”
“Ah, so she knew where Sally was,” George said.
“She tells me Sally decided she’d had enough of Gilliam and the Hanover Theater. She was at another theater—for an audition.”
And there went another suspect.
“I suppose I can understand why she didn’t want to risk that information getting out,” I conceded. “She wouldn’t want Gilliam to hear of it.”
“I checked with the other theater. She was there. Miss Cooper didn’t like Irena, but she didn’t kill her. She just had a secret. This is why she lied to you.”
“Perhaps you can clear up a few things about yourself for us,” George said. “Like why a military man was saddled with the task of watching after a headstrong young woman. That couldn’t have been how you imagined your career turning out.”
Petrov looked surprised. “I wasn’t a military man. I was bodyguard to Alexei. He wasn’t really a military man, either. He was a sloppy commander with no interest in the navy or military campaigns, or anything that distracted from his own amusement. Since I was to protect him, both his poor command and his amusements often put me at risk. When he asked me to watch afte
r Irena, I was glad to do it.” He shrugged. “It had to be the safer of the two assignments.”
George stared absently past us, stroking his chin, as he weighed the man’s words. “I’ve heard he’s known for slow ships and fast women, neither of which is without peril.”
“As his bodyguard, you must always have been by Alexei’s side,” I said. “Did he ever confide in you about Miss Teskey’s mother?”
“He never talked about her.”
My shoulders slumped. If Petrov couldn’t tell us, we’d have to wait for word from Alexei. That could take weeks.
Igor released a heavy sigh. “He took Irena because it was the honorable thing to do. It was also easy for him to do. He was always demanding allowances from the czar for this woman or that woman. Why not his child? But he also took her because her mother’s husband demanded it. And Alexei swore he’d never tell Irena or anyone else who her mother was.”
“Why would he make such a promise?” I asked.
Igor curled his lip. “He detested the man. Said he never wanted Irena near him.”
“She told me her mother was murdered by her own husband,” I said. “She claimed Mrs. Teskey told her.”
“I never heard that, but the man couldn’t wait to rid himself of his wife’s baby. Gave it to the man who cuckolded him.” He lifted his arms at his sides. “With that kind of anger, who knows?”
Who knows, indeed? How angry would he be if he learned Irena had moved to London? I glanced at George, wondering if he was satisfied with Petrov’s explanation. Before I could ask him, there was a knock at the door, and his butler stepped into the room with a note.
George read the note and glanced up, startled to see both Petrov and me leaning forward. “It’s from Delaney,” he said. “He’s returned from Paris and has Bradmore in custody. We can visit him in the morning.”
Chapter Twenty
I’d never had a reason to call on Inspector Delaney at his precinct, and I had no idea what to expect. I was surprised by how open the interior of the building was. A constable sat behind a long barrier just past the entry. Behind him, a wood-paneled wall, about a quarter of the width of the room, divided this section from the rest of the large warehouse-type area. Small offices lined one side wall. Desks and tables, long and short, were lined up across the floor, each positioned under a lamp that hung from the high wood-paneled ceiling, which echoed the general hum from a dozen or so conversations. Many of the desks were occupied by uniformed police officers and other men and women, not in uniform. Were they criminals?
I had no chance to ask George, as the constable stationed at the barrier, really a chest-high counter, pointed to the door we’d just entered through. “Lost property office is around the corner,” he said.
“I’ll file that bit of elucidation away for another time,” George said. “Today we are here to meet with Inspector Delaney.”
The officer looked us over. “Name?”
George provided his, and the man sent a boy off to notify Delaney, then returned to some documents he was filing, leaving us to cool our heels. Though I was a bit put off by his brusque manner, I reminded myself I wasn’t a customer or a patron here. This was a different type of business than I might typically visit in my daily pursuits.
The boy returned and solemnly escorted us to one of the offices along the wall. In addition to a battered desk, a cabinet, three wooden chairs, and a coatrack, it contained Delaney and Bradmore. The latter was seated in one of the chairs against the wall and wore manacles, his hair and clothing were dirty and disheveled, yet he still managed to appear relaxed.
Delaney looked anything but as he jerked to his feet. “What are you doing, bringing Lady Harleigh in here? This is no place for her.”
“If you think she’d allow me to leave her at home, Inspector, you greatly overrate my influence.”
“Of course I came,” I said. “We were both eager to see Mr. Bradmore and hear what he has to say for himself.”
“Well, I hope it comes as no surprise that what I have to say is, ‘Not guilty.’”
“No surprise whatso—”
“Hold up.” Delaney raised a hand, interrupting George. “This man is my prisoner in a case of murder. I still have to take his statement and have him moved to Newgate. Once that’s done, you can visit him there.”
“Come now, Inspector,” George said. “You sent me a note, telling me you’d returned with him and that I could call this morning. Surely you expected me to do so.”
“I did, but only because I had news for you.” He rifled through the papers on his desk and pulled one out. He handed it to George with something of a flourish. “Here. This is all that should concern you at the moment.”
I leaned across the desk to see for myself. “It’s the infamous marriage certificate.” And Bradmore’s name was listed, along with Miss Teskey’s.
“My reason for going to Paris. I could hardly start divorce proceedings if I couldn’t prove we were actually married.” Bradmore glared at Delaney. “And that’s the only thing I wanted from her. I had no reason to kill her.”
I ignored Bradmore and pursued my own interests. “Now that you have proof Hazelton was not Miss Teskey’s husband, is he no longer under suspicion?”
“He’s moved much farther down the list.” Delaney reached out and snatched the document from George’s hand.
“Wait,” I said. “I need that. Right now, everyone believes Hazelton was married to Miss Teskey. I’d like to set the record straight.”
“I’m afraid that will have to wait, Lady Harleigh.” His glower told me he was in no mood to argue. “This is evidence.” He tucked the evidence back among the assorted documents on his desk, along with my last hope of ever escaping this scandal.
“Will you at least let Bradmore write a statement for the press?” I asked.
“He’s not making statements to anyone, not the press and not the two of you.”
“What about legal counsel?” George said. “Surely he has the right to legal advice before making his official statement to you.”
Delaney looked exhausted as he jerked his head toward Bradmore. “He’s been offered a chance to speak to legal counsel. He turned it down.”
Bradmore parted his lips to speak, but George was faster. “Well, he’s changed his mind. I’m here to act as such counsel.”
This elicited a bark of laughter from Delaney. “You can’t represent the man when you’re a suspect in the same case.”
“But I’m barely a suspect. You said so yourself. The probability of my being the murderer is far lower than Bradmore’s.”
“If he’s fool enough to accept such counsel, he deserves you.”
“I accept,” Bradmore said. “I’d like to confer with my counsel.”
George gave Delaney a sheepish grin. “I gather he’s fool enough.”
“If they’re both agreeable to this, Inspector, it must show you that neither of them believes the other committed the crime.” At least it seemed so to me.
Delaney stacked the papers on his desk, perhaps in an attempt to calm his temper. “Don’t fool yourself. They’re just comrades willing to back one another up.” He drew in a breath and expelled it in something of a growl. “You have ten minutes, and I’ll be right outside the door. After that, he will be processed for transfer to Newgate, and you will leave before I arrest you for interfering with an investigation.”
The inspector left the door open, but he did step outside.
George drew up two chairs near Bradmore, and the three of us gathered close. “Did you kill her?” he asked.
Bradmore’s expression changed from wary to angry. “No, and if you’re only doing this so that you can set me up for her murder, I’ll dismiss you now.”
“It wouldn’t be necessary or worth my time,” George said. “You set yourself up by running off to Paris. Between that and your sudden move to new lodgings, with nothing but the essentials. I can see why you’re Delaney’s prime suspect.”
“I went to Paris to get proof of our marriage. As to my lodgings, I had been letting a furnished flat in the city. Now that I’m entering an engagement with a suitable lady, I decided I needed a more prestigious address.”
“How did you know to go to Paris?” I asked. “I know you called on Miss Teskey the day she was murdered, but I understand she refused to see you.”
Bradmore nodded. “That’s what your housekeeper told me, but before I even left your doorstep, Irena threw open an upper window and said she’d meet me in the garden.”
“She called down at you from the window, and none of the neighbors witnessed it? Jackson must have been napping.”
“Timing is everything, I suppose. By the time I walked around the corner and found your gate, she was already there and let me in.” He cast his gaze between George and me. “You must believe me. All we did was talk. She’d calmed down a great deal since breakfast.” He shook his head. “And before you say it, I suppose I could have handled that better. When we spoke in the garden, she admitted she really had no interest in being married to me and was willing to allow me to file for a divorce. We decided I should go back to her flat in Paris and retrieve the marriage certificate.”
He held up his manacled hands. “I swear by all that’s holy, she was both alive and reasonably calm when I left her.”
“Did she lock the gate behind you?” I asked.
“Irena doesn’t bother with things like locking up, and I was too pleased with the result of our conversation to think of reminding her. She was still on the bench when I closed the gate. Someone must have come in after I left.” He shifted his gaze to George. “The inspector said she was strangled?”
“She was.” George stood and moved to Delaney’s desk. “I’m afraid we’re running low on suspects at this point.” He turned and went about his usual pacing. “Did you see anyone on the street when you left the garden?”
A Fiancée's Guide to First Wives and Murder Page 23
