Page 34 of Death of a Courtesan
Riley shook his hand and they went their separate ways.
‘You believe him?’ Salter asked as he hailed another cab.
‘Yes. He’s either the best liar I have ever encountered or was being refreshingly honest.’ Riley chuckled. ‘It’s so seldom that a witness is honest that we tend not to realise it when they actually are. Anyway, he had no reason to kill the woman who gave him whatever it was he got from those sessions, and certainly wouldn’t risk his career even if he did have his differences with her.’ They entered the cab that swerved in front of a drayman’s cart to pick them up. ‘Let’s see what the clergyman has to say for himself.’
They found the Reverend Boyland on his knees in front of the altar in his small Methodist chapel in Victoria. He turned as the sound of their footsteps rang out on the tiled floor. Riley was surprised to see tears pouring down his face.
‘You are from Scotland Yard.’ It wasn’t a question, and Riley merely nodded. ‘I have been expecting you. Please come this way. We can talk in the vestry.’
Boyland was a small man with thin sandy hair and bland, forgettable features. He motioned them into chairs in the cramped room, removed some hymnbooks from the remaining seat and eased himself into it. He winced in the same manner as Danforth had done when he sat down. Adelaide clearly gave value for money, Riley thought with a degree of amusement. He introduced himself and Salter and wasted no time on pleasantries.
‘You were the last person to be entertained by Adelaide at Mrs Sinclair’s establishment the night before last,’ he said without preamble.
Boyland inhaled sharply. ‘Her death is my punishment.’ He ran a hand through what little hair he possessed, looking anguished. ‘I always knew the day of reckoning would come.’
‘I’d say her death is her own punishment, not yours,’ Salter said with little sympathy.
‘Yes, yes, of course. It’s a tragedy. Such a young life needlessly sacrificed. I was just now praying for her immortal soul.’
‘You might want to give more consideration to your own,’ Salter said in a belligerent tone, pointing a finger at Boyland’s puny chest for emphasis. ‘You were the last person to spend time with her, which makes you our prime suspect.’
‘No, no, I did not kill her! I couldn’t harm a fly. I am a man of God.’
‘One with unnatural desires,’ Riley said mildly.
‘To my eternal shame.’ The man hung his head, looking truly anguished. But Riley got the impression that he was more concerned about his own future than bringing Adelaide’s killer to justice. ‘I shall have to give up my ministry. Word of my weakness will get out and the presbyter will force my resignation. Better to go before that happens. I am not fit to give advice to others anyway. Not when I am so conflicted myself.’
‘You will of course want wish to make amends by helping us to find who did this, assuming it wasn’t you,’ Salter said, his tone only slightly less belligerent.
‘I keep telling you, it wasn’t me! I have committed many sins, I admit that much—’
‘You don’t have a lot of choice, given that we know how you get your gratification,’ Salter snarled.
‘True enough, but my desires harmed no one but myself. I swear on all I hold most dear that I didn’t kill Adelaide. Besides,’ he added, looking a little more confident, ‘several people must have seen her alive and well as she saw me off the premises.’
‘You could have sneaked back in. You’re a small man and would find it easy to hide.’
Riley’s hand on Salter’s arm halted his flow of words. His sergeant had been more comfortable with this investigation and Adelaide’s way of making a living since seeing the home life from which she had escaped, although the sanctimonious clergyman who was thinking only of his own skin had clearly rekindled his agitation. But Boyland didn’t kill the girl, and angering him would make him less likely to tell them anything he knew.
‘Was there anything different about Adelaide that you can recall?’ Riley asked. ‘Think carefully. You were the last person to see her alone, apart from her killer. We are trying to discover why that person wanted to kill her and why he went to so much trouble to carry out the deed. He would have found it easier to abduct her from the street and everyone would simply assume that she had taken herself off.’
Boyland nodded, his eyes still moist with tears. ‘There was something,’ he said. Riley and Salter both sat up a little straighter.
‘What was it?’ Salter asked. ‘Out with it, man. Don’t keep us waiting.’
The clock striking the hour, sounding loud in the crowded and airless room, meant that he did keep them waiting until the last chime faded. ‘After we’d finished, she asked me to say a prayer with her.’
‘She did what!’ Salter’s exclamation echoed Riley’s own surprise.
‘Did she say why?’ Riley asked.
‘She said she had a big decision to make and needed guidance from a higher power. She did not say what that decision was.’
‘Had she asked you to pray with her before?’
‘No, but we often talked about theological matters when our sessions were over and I was recovering.’ Boyland looked directly at Riley as he answered his question, his expression open and honest. ‘She was very knowledgeable about the subject. She said she’d had no option but to study religion where she grew up but argued vociferously against the existence of God. Given my reasons for visiting her, I found it hard to mount a convincing argument in His defence.’
‘She was not devout, yet she wanted you to pray with her,’ Riley said, rubbing his chin as he considered this startling revelation. ‘Didn’t you think that odd?’
