“He never was. He was born old, that man, but his heart’s in the right place.”
“I am sure that it is. You’d know that, being the medical man. Now, let me write this down. I don’t know what’s important in amongst all this information but I think we need to remember it all.” She wrote Digby Nettles in the middle of the page. “This chap is dead. And so is his wife, from some time ago. He was dining with William Wiseman.” She wrote their names and connected a line between them. “Octavia Dymchurch keeps getting mentioned. Everyone is at pains to explain how proper she is, and how regrettable it is that she is involved in the Bohemian set. I found her pleasant enough. You met her, too – and she is linked to Nettles, somehow.” She drew a line between Octavia and Digby Nettles. “Her husband is also dead, and he was a philanderer involved with another of the Bohemians – a dancer and model called Mariana da Costa.”
“This is all very well,” said Theodore, “but this is endless. You can name anyone and draw a line of connection.”
“Wait,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “Now ask me how Octavia’s husband died.”
“Go on.”
“Stomach issues.”
“Oh. Oh.”
“Well, they said it was ongoing gastric issues and a heart problem.”
Theodore nodded slowly. Arsenic could do that. It killed over a long period of time, or in a larger dose, in one go. Both were still easily overlooked as medical complaints rather than malicious acts.
He rubbed his face. “So, let us suggest that Mr Dymchurch was killed too. By whom? Octavia Dymchurch?”
“She has motive, if her husband was as bad as they say he was.”
“Or he was killed by his lover, this Mariana da Costa. That wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Possibly so.”
“But is there a connection between them and Digby Nettles?” Theodore pressed. “The death of Mr Dymchurch was around a year ago, give or take a few months? Suspicious or not, how does that link to Digby Nettles now?”
“I don’t know, and there might not be a link at all,” Adelia said. “I only wanted to write it all down while it was in my head just in case we learned more things that made all of this into some kind of sense.”
“We need to consider also if Wiseman is a victim or whether he’s the killer. I can’t see any connection between Mr Wiseman and the late Mr Dymchurch but there could be if we look for it. The problem there is, of course, looking for a link makes one more likely to be found; we will find what we seek.”
“You really have learned a lot from working with Inspector Prendergast.”
“I hope so,” Theodore said. “I made many mistakes and I don’t intend to repeat them. So, dear heart, where do we go from here?”
“You mean you have not already formulated a plan?”
He laughed. “Well, then, yes I have. We must dig deeper into the workings of Digby Nettles. A man who is as corrupt as Robert and Charlotte claim him to be must have a list of enemies, not just Wiseman. So we have to get to the bottom of the frauds it is said he was involved in.”
“Lord Mareham disputes any of that. He feels that Nettles was innocent.”
“Yes but we have just established that Mareham is still living in 1780. To him, a rich man can never be a crook. Let us disregard any of Mareham’s opinions. Next, we absolutely must speak to Wiseman privately.”
“I agree with that,” Adelia said. “There is one other thing. If we are to accept that Nettles was involved in corruption, surely he cannot have worked alone? I was pondering all the sheer complications of the business around swapping paintings or making forgeries. It is not a quick and easy thing to pull off. Many people must know something because it cannot be done by one person alone. If he was canny, there won’t be one other person who knows everything except himself, of course. But there is a puzzle to be pieced together.”
“Good point, but that leads to another problem. If he was a successful criminal – yes, let us name it for what it is – then his death creates a space for a new hopeful to step into. Someone else will be benefiting and stepping into his place. I wonder who?”
“How would we know?”
“Because it has to be someone cultured and educated with the right contacts in the upper parts of society,” Theodore said. “It has to be one of us.”
ROBERT AND CHARLOTTE were out at a long-arranged dinner engagement that night, but Theodore and Adelia had refused their entreaties to join them. Charlotte said she could persuade the hostess to add two more but Adelia felt that would have been a rather rude imposition, and they declined. At their age, they argued, they were better off having a quiet night in from time to time.
“But do be sure to make as many enquiries as you can,” Theodore urged just as they left.
“About what in particular?” Robert had asked.
“All of it. Everything.”
Left alone, Adelia and Theodore ate well, drank lightly, and thought about art. Well, Adelia thought about art while Theodore tried to put himself in the position of an art dealer who wanted to engage in criminal activities.
“It baffles me,” he said at last, as they digested their food in comfort before a roaring fire in the drawing room. “Why would a successful dealer turn to crime? What is the point? He had enough money and he didn’t have a family to support.”
“Some people just pursue money. It’s a matter of greed and avarice, is it not?”
“Perhaps,” Theodore said. Adelia could see that he was not convinced. “The man’s politics concern me too.”
Adelia pulled a face. “Oh, let’s not. I had enough of all that when talking with the
