The detectives left the house together and made their way to a coffee shop, where they took refreshment.
‘What did the grooms have to say?’ Riley asked.
‘Sir Philip’s coachman is adamant that no one used the carriage after he’d driven the master and mistress back from their dinner engagement,’ Carter replied. ‘He unharnessed the horses and did for them himself. Sorry, sir, we pressed hard but he remained adamant.’
‘Don’t apologise for doing your job. Of course, it doesn’t mean that Sir Philip or someone else connected with the place didn’t leave by cab or on foot.’
‘One of the other grooms reckons he did see someone leave the house by the back entrance which takes them past the coach house at about ten o’clock, but he didn’t take much notice. The servants come and go by the back entrance all the time. He didn’t see who it was, or notice anyone return.’
‘If it was a man, sir, it can only have been Gregg or James,’ Peterson pointed out.
‘Or Albert, the other footman. We’ve dismissed him because he claims not to have left the house that night and because he has no obvious reason for wanting Ezra dead,’ Riley said. ‘We know it wasn’t James, because he didn’t return from his afternoon and evening off until later than that.’
‘Unless he was lying about that an’ all,’ Salter said darkly.
‘We shall see, although I believed him when he said that he stayed out to avoid Ezra’s cruel taunts. Did the female servants, or Sir Philip’s valet, have anything to say that would interest me?’ Riley asked.
‘The women are still right upset, even the old cook,’ Peterson replied. ‘The old biddy was fond of Ezra. She described him as a scoundrel and a popinjay, but said he always cheered her up no end. Sir Philip’s valet remained aloof but he’s an older man, sir, as you know, and walks with a limp. I can’t see him lowering himself to clout anyone over the head, even if he had the physical ability to do so.’
‘Thank you, Peterson.’ Riley paused to reflect. ‘I’m starting to build a picture of the victim in my mind. The ladies adored him and he was charmingly disposed towards them all, but he enjoyed taunting the men and making himself unpopular, which was cruel and unnecessary. In some respects, he was responsible for his own grisly end, which is not to imply that he deserved to be killed. Anyway, I need you two, Carter and Soames, to call upon the tavern where James claims to have drowned his sorrows.’
‘To work, not to sample their wares,’ Salter said, scowling when Carter’s expression brightened.
‘As if we would, Sarge.’
‘Describe him to the landlord and see if he or any of the regulars recall seeing him. Salter and I are going to pay a call upon Verity Randall and then her husband at his place of work. Since they have both lied to us about their whereabouts, they have lost the right to expect discretion. Come with us, Peterson. While we interview the lady, I want you to talk to her servants. They have already said that Mrs Randall remained at home on the night in question, but push them on the matter and see if they are absolutely sure that she didn’t slip out after they’d retired.’
Chapter Eight
Verity Randall was not best pleased to have Scotland Yard detectives knocking at her door. She made the fact abundantly clear to Riley when she deigned to receive him and Salter in her modestly proportioned yet ostentatiously furnished drawing room in an apartment on the first floor of a tall building in Curzon Street. Riley found the room oppressive, a perfect match for Verity’s personality.
‘I really cannot imagine what else you think I can tell you about the man who was killed,’ she said indignantly, taking a chair and folding her hands in her lap in a prim gesture of disapproval. ‘I don’t think I ever spoke to him. Anyway, ask your questions, Lord Riley, and be quick about it. I am due to go out.’
‘It will take as long as it takes,’ Salter told her, scowling as he made a show of turning to a fresh page in his notebook before licking the end of his pencil.
‘Well, really. I find your sergeant’s manner most offensive, Lord Riley.’
‘We are conducting a murder investigation, madam,’ Riley told her. ‘And we don’t always have time to consider the sensibilities of the people we question.’
‘Even so, I—’
‘A man has lost his life, Mrs Randall. Should I read anything into your disinclination to help us with our enquiry?’
‘No, of course not.’
Riley sat across from her, unsurprised when no offer of refreshment was forthcoming.
‘Since you claim to be going out,’ Riley said, allowing his gaze to linger on the grey gown she wore, which was old and shabby and certainly not the type of attire she would be seen outside of the house wearing. Her irritation was either designed to disguise her anxiety or was the product of embarrassment. She hadn’t expected a man of Riley’s ilk to catch her looking like a poor relation. Such considerations, he sensed, would be important to a woman of Verity’s pretentious nature. ‘I shall not detain you longer than necessary and get straight to the point. Have the goodness to explain to my sergeant and me why you lied to us.’
‘Lied?’ She sat ramrod straight, and put up her chin as though she had just detected a noxious smell as her small eyes widened with indignation. ‘Did you come here with the intention of deliberately insulting me, Lord Riley?’
‘I can play games all afternoon if it suits you, Mrs Randall, and I am probably a lot better at them than you are,’ Riley replied, remaining implacably calm in
