Page 37 of Death of a Courtesan
‘I always thought so. I was never told of any tensions, but Derek was often there when I was not and assumed responsibility as man of the house. It’s possible that he denied some request on Mary’s part to go somewhere he thought inappropriate, but she wouldn’t take revenge by inventing wicked lies. The girl I remember didn’t have a malevolent bone in her body. She was obedient, dutiful and affectionate.’
‘Just supposing for the sake of argument that your daughter’s allegations were true and that your brother had taken an unnatural interest in her, he would keep that interest well-hidden when you were at home.’
‘Derek is incapable of such behaviour.’ Huxton let out an angry breath. ‘How many more times must I tell you?’
‘Your sister,’ Riley said in an abrupt change of tack. ‘She holds a position of influence in your household. You claim that your daughter was obedient and affectionate, yet Miss Huxton implies the opposite.’
‘Ruth has had a difficult time, inspector. Oh, I know how she must seem to an outsider, and I will admit that her views on certain subjects remain intransigent. She is very devout, which I find trying myself sometimes,’ he said with the ghost of a sad smile. ‘She was not always thus. Our mother died when Ruth was sixteen. I was ten and Derek eight. Our father was building up the business that I inherited and was seldom home, so Ruth became mother to two rumbustious boys. She raised us, if you like.’
‘And sacrificed her own hopes of making a good marriage in the process,’ Riley suggested.
‘Not precisely. She was walking out with a young man of whom our father approved. She wasn’t at all like she is now. She laughed a lot and was good company. But then her best friend somehow enticed her fiancé away from her—’
‘Some friend,’ Salter muttered.
‘Quite. She changed after that. She became bitter and turned to religion. Her friend was far prettier than she was, you see, so she blamed her plain appearance for her fiancé’s desertion and has looked upon all pretty women with a jaundiced eye ever since. She advised me most strongly against marrying my wife, for no other reason that she was glorious to look at. She was also sweet-natured and biddable and the marriage was, for the most part, a happy one.’
‘Your sister lived with you?’ Salter asked.
‘Oh yes. The house was my father’s and had always been Ruth’s home. She looked after us when we were children and it was time for me to return the favour.’
‘That must have been hard on your wife, having another woman constantly looking over her shoulder, criticising her methods,’ Riley said.
‘If it was, she never complained. She told me that she enjoyed Ruth’s company when I was away and was grateful for her advice.’
‘Advice that could well have driven your daughter away from home,’ Salter pointed out.
Huxton shook his head. ‘The possibility has tormented me ever since she left, as it did my wife, but I was too wrapped up in my work and my search for Mary to notice Fanny’s gradual decline.’ He emitted a heart-rending sob. ‘Until it was too late.’
‘Did your wife believe there was any truth to your daughter’s accusations?’ Riley asked.
‘I think she believed that someone had behaved inappropriately. Mary led a sheltered life, but she had become withdrawn and uncommunicative and wouldn’t have known anything about…well, about the things she accused my brother of doing to her unless she had experienced them first hand.’ Huxton sat a little straighter. ‘Someone tried to take liberties, but I still don’t think it was my brother.’
‘And yet your daughter attacked him with a knife,’ Salter said. ‘Why would a well brought up young woman do such a thing? What would have provoked her?’
‘That, sergeant, is another question that has plagued my thoughts for the past five years, but I am still no closer to finding an answer. The only other young men she regularly saw were at church, or the brothers of her friends. She was admired by one and all since she shared her mother’s beauty and good nature. Or did until something changed her, but I cannot tell you what that something was because I simply don’t know.’
‘Tell me about Mary herself. What were her favourite pursuits?
‘Oh, she took a great interest in the family business, much to my sister’s annoyance. Ruth didn’t think it a suitable occupation for a female, but I was secretly proud of her instinctive ability to judge a good wine from an indifferent one. I suppose that was a result of growing up surrounded by constant discussions on the subject.’
‘She tasted wines and could identify them?’ Riley asked.
‘Indeed. She was better at it than her brothers, too,’ Huxton replied, pride in his tone.
Riley stored that snippet of information away, thanked him and asked him to wait whilst they spoke with his brother. ‘You will understand that it is necessary to speak to you separately. Your brother might recall something that you do not, which he might not think of if you answer my questions together.’
Huxton nodded and slumped in his chair, returning to the world of his own that he had briefly emerged from.
‘You didn’t tell him that his daughter was still a virgin,’ Salter said as he and Riley left the room together. ‘I thought you would.’
‘I was tempted, but he would tell the brother—and unless or until I am convinced that he wasn’t responsible for Adelaide’s absconding, I shall have to leave the father to wallow in his own misery.’
‘Which is less than he deserves, if you ask me. Allowing that witch of a sister to influence his wife’s thinking. If she’d been alone, I doubt whether she would have questioned her daughter’s account.’
‘We shall never know.’ Riley paused on the threshold of the interview room in which Derek Huxton awaited their pleasure. ‘Ready?’
‘Let me at ’im!’ Salter replied, rubbing his hands.
