Page 31 of Dead Beside the Thames
After a moment during which Charlie realized he’d been smiling vacuously while drinking in Claudia’s more relaxed expression, he cleared his throat and asked, “So, where to next? Your brothers’ lodgings?”
A faint frown puckered Claudia’s brows as she considered the matter. “I was going to say yes,” she eventually replied, “but it occurs to me that first, perhaps, we should return to Sedbury’s rooms.”
When, mildly surprised, Charlie arched his brows at her, she supplied, “Someone should question Duggan, and that might as well be us. As far as I know, no one’s spoken to him or planned to do so, yet he might know or have seen or heard something pertinent.”
Charlie’s brows rose even higher. “That’s true. Rather remiss of us all.” He uncrossed his legs, rose, and offered Claudia his hand. “We should definitely catch up with Duggan.”
After deciding not to avail themselves of Fosdyke’s services given they were investigating, they quit the house, and Charlie hailed a hackney. On reaching Duke Street, they climbed to Sedbury’s rooms and walked into the apartment.
They paused in the small front foyer, and Charlie closed the door behind them.
A man appeared in the open bedroom doorway, and from the way Claudia nodded at the fellow, Charlie assumed him to be Duggan.
“Lady Claudia.” Duggan bowed, and Charlie seized the moment to take his measure.
Duggan was younger than Charlie had expected, somewhere in his late twenties. He was of average height and build, and garbed as he was in the neat and somber attire of a gentleman’s gentleman, he was entirely forgettable. His face was round, his features unremarkable, and his straight dark-brown hair lay flat against his skull. He was the sort of man who would pass unnoticed on a deserted street.
Straightening, Duggan waved behind him, into the bedroom, and glancing past him, Charlie saw a half-filled portmanteau on the bed.
Duggan explained, “Lord Jonathon and Lord Bryan said they’d come around later and tell me what they want done with everything else. But they’ve already been through the clothes, and they said I could sell them on for whatever I can get for them.”
Allowing staff to sell their employers’ discarded clothes was a common practice, and Claudia nodded. “Good. However, we’re here to ask what you know of Sedbury’s movements over his last days.” She beckoned Duggan to follow as she headed for the sofa. “Come and sit, and let’s see what you can remember.”
Charlie followed her to the sofa, and somewhat uncertainly, Duggan trailed behind them.
Claudia sat, and after Charlie subsided beside her, she imperiously pointed to the armchair facing them.
Duggan hesitated, then obeyed the unspoken command and moved to perch upright on the edge of the chair’s seat, clasping his hands in his lap.
He was so patently uncomfortable, to put him out of his misery the sooner, Charlie said, “Let’s start with the days leading to last Saturday. Did your master do anything different?Anything that seemed odd or unusual or not in the customary way of things?”
Succinctly, Claudia asked, “Did he alter his habits in any way?”
Duggan’s brow furrowed as he dredged his memory.
Impatient, Claudia prompted, “Did Sedbury do anything he hadn’t done before? Did he have any unexpected visitor or go out to some unanticipated meeting?”
Slowly, still frowning, Duggan shook his head. “I can’t say as I remember anything unusual happening. Seemed like any other week, with him going out most evenings and getting back sometime in the wee hours.” He glanced at Charlie. “He wasn’t any gentle master, but he was easy enough to do for just as long as he got everything he wanted when he wanted it.”
Claudia grimaced. “That sounds very like him.”
“All right,” Charlie said. “Now, think about Saturday. When did he rise for the day?”
“His usual time,” Duggan replied, “a little before noon. He had me lay out the clothes he preferred for going around town during the day, dressed, and had his breakfast—his usual kippers, eggs, sausages, toast, and coffee—then he went out.” Duggan looked from Charlie to Claudia. “Nothing different from any other day.”
“So,” Charlie said, drawing Duggan’s gaze back to him, “when did he return?”
“Not until a bit after seven o’clock, and that was just to change for the evening. Then he went out again.” Memory plainly struck, and Duggan’s eyes lit. “He said he was eating at his club and then going on to some meeting.”
Duggan looked pleased to have remembered that.
Claudia straightened. “He definitely mentioned going to a meeting?”
Duggan nodded.
“Was that normal—him going to a meeting after dinner?” Charlie asked.
Duggan thought, then frowned. “Now you mention it, no. Can’t recall him going to any other nighttime meeting before.” He paused, then clarified, “He was often out at night, but he’d never said it was to go to a meeting before.”
