A Murderous Affair, page 17
Katherine smiled. “Good. Because all we need is one more piece of solid evidence before we can prove our case.”
Chapter Eighteen
By the time Katherine reached Pall Mall Street, the meeting was in full swing. She and Pru stepped lightly up the old, creaking steps to the bubble of conversation spilling from the upper floor. As they reached the designated meeting area, a large room flanked in one corner by comfortable armchairs and in the other corner by a long table with utilitarian seating arrangements, the room was filled to the brim with detectives and investigation enthusiasts. Katherine steeled herself for the ordeal to come. At some point tonight, Wayland would undoubtedly attempt to learn everything she had discovered today.
In fact, her eyes gravitated to the gentleman in question. Or perhaps it was simply that he was so tall, the eye naturally fell on his person.
If that was the case, then clearly Katherine suffered from the same affliction. Because the moment she spotted him in the crowd, he turned from his conversation with a shorter fellow and pinned her with a stare too distant for her to decipher. Katherine swallowed hard and tried to rein in her trepidation. Tonight, Katherine would have to admit that Wayland had been right about her suspicions regarding her theory. And, if luck was not on her side, he might already be pursuing a more fruitful avenue. Had he solved the case already? She was so close to victory…
“There he is!”
Pru pointed across the room to a different man, her fiancé. As she lifted her hand in a wave, calling him closer, a broad grin split his face and seemed to light the air more brightly than the candles scattered around in sconces. He excused himself from his conversation and loped toward them.
Lord Annandale and Wayland reached them at the same time. The moment they did, Lord Annandale lifted his fiancée’s hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. “It’s been a right trying day without you.”
She blushed prettily. “Mine, too. The company hasn’t been the same.”
Katherine raised her eyebrows and pinned her friend with a dubious stare. Pru didn’t even seem to notice her displeasure, she was so enraptured by her fiancé’s presence.
Wayland smirked. He motioned with his chin to a free area near to the door and whispered, “Perhaps we ought to leave them to their reunion.”
Katherine made a face. “They’ve been apart little more than a day.”
His gaze twinkled. “So you think.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Do you know something I don’t?”
His grin widened, and they fell into step as he led her toward that secluded spot. “I always do.”
Katherine snorted. “Oh? Is that why you’re always cajoling me for information?”
“Perhaps I like the sound of your voice.”
Katherine fought the urge to roll her eyes. “Don’t flatter me.”
He laughed. “Very well. Call me curious. How did your theory regarding Mr. Blake’s maid turn out?”
Rita. Katherine bit her lip to hold in a sigh. She didn’t want to admit that she was wrong, but she could see no way of neatly sidestepping the question.
Especially not when Wayland raised both eyebrows and pinned her with a knowing glance. “Did you find proof that she killed Ellie Simpson?”
“I’m working on another theory.” Katherine bit off her words, struggling not to scowl.
Wayland laughed. She hadn’t fooled him one bit.
Her scowl deepening, she glared at him. “And how has your idea played out, pray tell?”
Unfortunately, he wasn’t perturbed by the question. He widened his smile and answered, “We are working on it.” He raised his gaze and his hand toward the door. “I see they’re through with their reunion.”
When he strode off, it was the fastest Katherine had ever seen him retreat.
“I should learn the trick to doing that so I can repeat it.”
She hadn’t meant the words for anyone but herself. However, upon reaching her, Pru must have heard. With a quizzical look, her friend asked, “What was that?”
Katherine shook her head. “Nothing. I was woolgathering. Are you sure you want to part ways with Lord Annandale so soon?”
“Actually…” Pru nibbled on her lip, the color rising in her cheeks as she glanced back toward her future husband. “I think he and Wayland are very close to working out another clue. Perhaps even tonight. We ought to stick near them, so we don’t miss anything. I’m happy to watch my Annandale, of course, but…”
Katherine sighed. “I’ll stay near to Wayland, then. For the good of the investigation,” she added, in case Pru was wont to get any ideas.
“You’d best hurry to catch him then, because I think he’s trying to catch someone’s eye.”
That devil, he was! Katherine hitched her skirts and hurried through the gathered crowd. Wayland was striding with purpose toward the table on the far end, where a ring of detectives listened as Lyle gave a demonstration of one of his latest inventions. Katherine gave him a little wave a moment before she caught up with Wayland.
As she stepped into place at his side, he peered down at her with a frown. Granted, she didn’t enjoy his teasing, but he could appear less displeased to have her nearby.
It soured her mood, but she tried not to show it with so many eyes taking note of them. “I hope you don’t mind if I keep you company. It seems Pru craves a few more moments alone with her fiancé.”
Helpless, Wayland looked over his shoulder as if seeking confirmation. By then, Pru had latched herself onto Annandale. The pair looked as though they didn’t notice the rest of the room existed. With a beleaguered smile, Wayland offered her an arm. “I was just taking a tour of the room to stretch my legs. Will you accompany me?”
The moment she acquiesced and slipped her palm onto his arm, he steered her away from the table. She glanced over her shoulder, trying to catalogue the members there. Which had he hoped to speak with? Come to think of it, whom had he interrupted his conversation with when she’d arrived?
He couldn’t be waiting for Lyle, could he? Lyle had promised her to be neutral in this matter, and she trusted him wholeheartedly. If he had something of import to impart regarding the investigation, he would divulge it to her as well as Wayland. Yet someone near here must have drawn his attention…
As Wayland led her toward the chairs on the far side, a man straightened from the table with a wave. Katherine licked her lower lip as she tried to recall his name. Mr. Pell, wasn’t it? He wasn’t assigned to Bow Street but worked for one of the less auspicious detective agencies in town. The sort that investigated infidelities among spouses. In so banal a workplace, Mr. Pell hadn’t yet gained prominence in the Society. However, from crossing paths with him once or twice before at meetings, Katherine knew him to have a sound head on his shoulders.
But why would Wayland be discussing the case with him? Perhaps she wasn’t reading into the situation correctly.
When she turned to face forward once more, she caught Wayland looking over his shoulder with a pained expression. He changed their trajectory again, this time leading them towards the door as if he meant to leave.
“Captain Way—”
Wayland quickened his stride, but Katherine dug in her heels. “What’s the rush? You’ll have me tripping over my heels if you don’t slow down.”
He raised an eyebrow at her as if he didn’t believe her flimsy excuse for a second.
She met him with an identical expression. “I have a reputation for clumsiness, or have you forgotten?”
He made a choked sound that sounded suspiciously like a snort before he turned away. He picked at the cravat at his throat. “It’s hot in here. I need some air. If you’re so desperate to keep my company…”
“Not desperate,” Katherine protested.
An air of smugness wrapped around him like a cloak. “In that case, perhaps you won’t mind if I step out for a moment and return to collect you later.”
She most certainly would mind. She was not a stray puppy. She would have told him, if Mr. Pell had not crossed within earshot at that very moment.
Instead, she directed her attention toward him. “Ah, Mr. Pell, I didn’t see you there. Were you looking for Wayland?”
Wayland cast her a nervous glance, as if wondering at her sweet tone.
A moment later, his nonchalant air was back in place. Almost bored, he said, “Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing important. He wishes to talk about war stories, don’t you, Mr. Pell? I wouldn’t want to tire your delicate ears, Lady Katherine.”
Katherine sent him a barbed smile. “Oh no, I insist. Please, tell your stories.”
Mr. Pell looked dumbfounded. He glanced from Wayland to Katherine and back again, as if uncertain what to say. Clearing his throat, he straightened his collar and suggested, “Er, weren’t you about to tell me the one about… Spain?”
Captain Wayland, to Katherine’s knowledge, had not been positioned in Spain.
She leaned forward, feathering her hand over Mr. Pell’s sleeve. “You can speak plainly, sir. I’m involved in the same investigation as Wayland. If you don’t tell me now, he’ll only share the information with me later.” She offered Wayland another of her saccharine smiles.
He did not look amused.
Mr. Pell, on the other hand, took her at her word. After a surreptitious glance to check that no one nearby was paying them any mind, he turned his full focus on her. Everyone was engrossed in their own conversations, these being meetings of the minds, where ideas were exchanged in great volume.
With a brief moment of hesitation, he studied Wayland. In a hushed voice, the detective informed, “I discovered the warehouse you were looking for. Mr. Blake lets one a mere two buildings away from the pub that burned this summer, the Hound and Ale. Rumor has it that he stores his smuggled silk and lace in there before he turns them over to local businesses to legitimize them.”
Katherine raised her eyebrows. Mr. Blake, a smuggler? She thought he had made his fortune in wine, not in silk. “Please, go on. Did you learn anything more?”
Wayland glared at the man as if demanding silently that he cease his report at once. Unfortunately for him, Mr. Pell had set his attention on Katherine. The detective was a plain-looking man not more than thirty, and he seemed rather enthusiastic to show his abilities to her.
“I’ve been watching the warehouse all week. I watched Mr. Blake come with Lord Quinbury. They both got out of Quinbury’s carriage — it’s a wonder he can even afford that carriage.”
“Oh?”
Mr. Pell shook his head, looking disgusted. “Rumor has it Quinbury has gambled away his family’s fortune. Men like that don’t deserve money. In any case, he wants to join in on Mr. Blake’s smuggling business to replenish his coffers. I asked around. Their association dates back several months. In fact, the two of them were ensconced in the warehouse the afternoon the Hound and Ale went up in flames. They must have a secret cellar or something, because I have it on good account that they didn’t notice the fire until after they concluded their game of loo. Quinbury's carriage had been outside for hours, and he lost half his fortune to Blake, what remained of it. Since they’re still amiable, I imagine he must have decided to go into business with Blake, after all.”
Katherine’s stomach sank as her sole suspect slipped out of her grasp. “No, you must be mistaken. Mr. Blake couldn’t have been with Lord Quinbury on the afternoon the Hound and Ale burned.” Was Quinbury a reliable alibi, though? He was an unsavory character and could have lied for Blake. But something about Blake setting up a card game so he could slip out and kill Ellie didn’t seem right. If that were the case, then it meant Ellie hadn’t come to the area with Blake, and if that was true, then why was she there, so far from home?
Mr. Pell pressed his hand over his heart. “I assure you, my lady, I am the picture of thoroughness when it comes to these matters. I checked several sources and had them confirm, including Lord Quinbury’s valet. The man was turned out the next day. Quinbury had lost the money to pay the fellow!”
Katherine didn’t know how to answer, considering that her entire investigation was crumbling in front of her eyes. However, Mr. Pell looked so expectant that she couldn’t help but give him a small smile of encouragement. “My word, that is thorough. Have you worked on many cases with Captain Wayland?”
The fellow shrugged. “A few. He has work for me from time to time. I hear you’re also involved in the investigation business, my lady. If you come across any work that’s too dirty for your delicate hands, be sure to pass it my way.”
He dug into his pocket and took out a smudged card, handing it over with his details. When she reached for it, his fingers curled around her hand, and he held her in place, his eyes locked with hers. “Feel free to send me a message. For anything you might need.”
She mustered a smile and tucked the card into her reticule without looking at it. “Of course.”
When she glanced up at Wayland, she found him scowling at Mr. Pell with a thunderous look. Good grief! He couldn’t be so cross with the fellow for spilling the information, could he? After all, it hadn’t helped Katherine in the least. Her only suspect was now up in the air!
At least the information was not a total loss. If the Duke of Quinbury had not only lost his fortune but gotten involved with illegal activities like smuggling… Perhaps she had another reason for Miss Graylocke not to marry him. She could rest easy knowing that she had accomplished one of her goals, even if it was the far less important one. But how could she make Miss Graylocke’s parents aware of that? She couldn’t possibly tell them she’d stumbled upon the information while investigating an old murder. She’d have to think of something else.
Mr. Pell hurried to excuse himself and slip back into the crowd when Wayland’s expression did not lighten. The moment he was away, Katherine patted Wayland on the arm and said, “Perhaps you ought to get that air now. You look like you have a headache.”
She turned on her heel and searched out her friend before he had time to quip a response.
She caught Pru’s eye before she’d taken two steps. Within moments, Pru separated herself from her fiancé. She met Katherine midway. The moment she did, she latched onto Katherine’s elbow and pulled her to the side of the room. “I saw you talking to someone with Wayland. What did you learn?”
Katherine grimaced. “Mr. Blake could not have killed Ellie. He was with Lord Quinbury that afternoon, playing loo. And it seems both he and Quinbury are up to their eyeballs in smuggling.”
“Smuggling?”
“Yes. Silk and fine lace like the garment that Ellie had. There has to be some connection, but if Lord Blake was with Quinbury, how could he have murdered Ellie?”
Pru seemed deep in thought, so Katherine let her gaze wander. Rather than lightening her mood, the exchange of information around her was claustrophobic. Perhaps she was the one who ought to get some air. Or perhaps, weary as she was, she would go home for the evening instead.
As she set about doing that very thing, promising Pru that they would meet the next day to go over the clues with Harriet, she spotted another esteemed friend. The Duchess of Tenwick, Philomena.
At last, Katherine realized how she would pass along the information she’d gathered about Miss Graylocke’s ill-fated groom. With her connection to the family, Philomena could pass the news along. And while she was at it, Katherine would have Phil put in a good word for Lord Glendore, as well. Miss Graylocke deserved to have the marriage of her heart.
Chapter Nineteen
The next day, having finished informing Pru and Harriet about the clues she had learned last night at the Royal Society meeting, Katherine leaned back in the drawing room chair and ran her fingers over Emma’s fur. The dog wriggled in her lap in glee, turning over onto her back to offer her belly. Silence dominated the room as everyone absorbed the information. Katherine could practically hear the ticking of their thoughts in time to the grandfather clock as they pieced together what they had discovered about the murder investigation and tried to fit in the missing piece.
“If Mr. Blake went straight from the game of loo at his warehouse to the fire next door, he cannot be a killer. His warehouse is south of the crime scene, with the Hound and Ale between them.”
It was a fact Katherine had mulled over in her head hour after hour last night, lamenting the loss of her latest suspect.
Crossly, Pru said, “We should verify that he was in fact at that card game. Do you think that’s why his driver lied about being there the night of the fire?”
“No, I think they were in Quinbury’s carriage that night, so Blake’s driver told the truth. Though I sure thought he was lying, and didn’t one of the shop owners say she saw Blake’s carriage four blocks north of the fire?” Katherine said.
“Maybe Blake let Ellie take it as part of their blackmail deal because Ellie wanted to shop in the finer stores?” Pru suggested. “The driver might have seen that as a reason to lie.”
Katherine sighed. When her fingers stilled, Emma whined. Idly, Katherine soothed herself with the touch of Emma’s soft fur. “We can look for Lord Quinbury’s former valet and verify if Blake was in his carriage, but Mr. Pell has no incentive to lie to us. He seems remarkably thorough. I trust him at his word.”
Harriett stared into the fire. “Isn’t it possible Blake parked his carriage blocks away on purpose? I don’t know how open a secret his warehouse is, but if he keeps his smuggled silks and lace in there, he would not want people to associate it with him. Or so I would think.”
Having thought hard about this through half the night, Katherine had almost certainly struck upon her next suspect. In fact, the longer she contemplated it, the more certain she was that was the case. However, she was reluctant to release another theory into the air. What if she was wrong yet again? But if she wasted more time, Wayland and Lord Annandale might solve the case ahead of them.
