‘I think tomorrow you and I need to take another look at the Clapham angle, Jack. Send Carter and Soames to Lord Rothsmere’s residence in Holborn first thing to ascertain that Gideon was there, what time he left, and so forth. They know what questions to ask.’
‘Will do.’ Salter paused. ‘You think Verity Randall is involved in this business in some way, don’t you, sir?’
‘I think she is an unlikeable, ambitious and resentful person, Jack, and I’m sure Gideon regrets marrying her. It most certainly isn’t a love match. One assumes he was attracted by her fortune and now finds himself stuck in an unhappy marriage to a sharp-tongued harpy. His wife will always be disappointed, since Gideon lacks his father’s intelligence and will to succeed. He simply doesn’t have what it takes to rise to the top of his chosen profession and fulfil his wife’s desire to see him take political office, much less thrive in the shark-infested waters of politics.’
‘I tend to agree that Gideon is ineffectual.’
Riley rubbed his chin. ‘Anyway, timing was vital and if Gideon really was at Lord Rothsmere’s then he couldn’t have done it. No one knew Ezra was going to Clapham, so it had to be arranged at the last minute. Verity, on the other hand, makes no secret of the fact that Ezra was both an embarrassment and potential drain on Ida’s fortune. And she, I think, is more than capable of cobbling the plot together, although she could not have done it alone.’
‘Gideon deliberately mentioned Verity’s connection to Clapham, aware that she would never refer to it herself.’
‘Oh yes, he did that, Jack, but an act of petty spite is very different to devising such a convoluted plot to kill a man, to say nothing of having the nerve to go through with it.’
‘You think he minds about his mother’s dalliances?’
‘Not as much as it worries Verity, and she was unable to keep her disapproval to herself. Anyway, what we think doesn’t signify, not unless we can prove it. And so far, we have absolutely no idea whether any of our suspects were anywhere near Ezra when he died.’
‘Perhaps I should go to the Plough this evening and talk to some of the regulars,’ Salter suggested. ‘Early like, before they’re in their cups. Someone might remember something in the cold light of sobriety.’
‘Now that is a very good suggestion, if you don’t mind sacrificing your family time.’
‘All in a good cause, sir,’ Salter replied cheerfully.
‘Don’t come up to London in the morning, Jack. I will come down to Clapham and meet you at the Plough at ten. Don’t stay there all night though. I’d like to speak with Reggie Lane as well. Where can we find him?’
‘Out the front, asking to see you,’ Sergeant Barton said, putting his head round the door, clearly having overheard their conversation.
Riley and Salter exchanged a glance.
‘Is he indeed?’ Riley said, recovering from his surprise first. ‘Very well, show him into an interview room please. I’ll be there in a moment.’ Riley paused. ‘Is he known to you, Barton?’
‘I know him by reputation. A nasty piece of work. His name’s come up when more than one member of the criminal fraternity in his neck of the woods has gone missing, but nothing ever sticks to him. He ain’t never been a guest of ours in this establishment before now, not in any capacity. He’s too wily to get himself arrested and pays others to take all the risks in his empire.’
‘And has likely come to you,’ Salter added, a cynical twist to his lips, ‘because he knew we’d connect him to Ezra sooner or later and would prefer not to have us poking our noses into his affairs.’
‘Aye, right enough,’ Barton agreed, taking himself off to accommodate their unexpected guest in an interview room.
‘Let’s leave him to settle in for a few minutes,’ Riley said, leaning back to contemplate this unexpected development. ‘Have you ever crossed paths with the man in your professional capacity, Jack?’
‘Nope. Like Barton says, he ain’t one to take risks himself. But I hear he’s educated and clever, so don’t underestimate him, sir.’
‘I never give any of our guests here the benefit of the doubt, Jack. You ought to know that much about me by now.’
‘And he will know all about you, sir. You can count on it, given that he asked for you by name. Probably thinks you’re an over privileged toff playing at being a policeman.’
Riley fixed his sergeant with a droll look. ‘Let’s go and disabuse him of that notion then, shall we?’
Salter grinned. ‘Lead the way.’
Riley strode into the room where Lane had been asked to wait, wondering what to expect. A tall, well-dressed man of about forty, with a long nose and sharp features stood up, the suggestion of a mocking smile playing about his lips. Riley could see that Lane was returning the favour and summing him up with a sweeping gaze down the length of Riley’s expensively-attired body. The momentary uncertainty that flashed through his eyes was, Riley hoped, in response to Riley’s air of authority that came naturally to most men born into positions of privilege. Lane already knew, without a word having been spoken, that Riley wouldn’t be as easy to influence as he’d anticipated.
‘Thank you for coming in, Mr Lane,’ Riley said, breaking the silence as he took a chair and motioned Lane back to his. ‘I am Chief Inspector Rochester and this is Sergeant Salter. We are obliged to you for saving us the trouble of coming to find you.’
‘Always happy to cooperate with the forces of law and order.’
Salter harrumphed but refrained from comment.
‘You and Ezra Dawson were contemplating a business venture, I am given to understand.’
‘We were. I run a number of clubs south of the river
