Page 54 of Death of a Courtesan
‘Theories aren’t much use without facts, Jack, you know that. At the moment I am as much in the dark as you are, but after we’ve spoken to Michael Clement we might know a little more. He’s the only person we know of who was in contact with Adelaide outside of Maiden Lane.’ Riley still had Celeste to speak with that evening, but he refrained from enlightening Salter in that regard. ‘This has to do with revenge. Either that or someone had a very good reason for silencing Adelaide that we don’t yet know anything about.’
‘Blackmail?’ Salter speculated. ‘She must have known a lot of sensitive information about her clients. Some men treat their doxies like they were in the confessional.’
‘And the girls have to remain as tight-lipped as a priest would or they’d find themselves out on the street. Quite literally. Discretion is everything at Mrs Sinclair’s end of the market.’
‘Aye, but it must be tempting to speak out sometimes.’
‘Adelaide was too clever to take a chance like that. She rose to the top of her profession and still remained a virgin, which says a lot for her intellect.’
Their conversation continued until they reached Scotland Yard, whereupon they were both taken up with their other duties. Riley wasn’t expecting his detectives to have unearthed any startling new information and so wasn’t as discouraged as they appeared to be by their lack of progress. He spent some time listening to their accounts, and in return updated the men beneath his command on the information that he and Salter had obtained.
‘I need you to keep a weather eye on Clement’s establishment in Dover Street and his rooms in Hay Lane,’ he told Carter and Soames. ‘The moment he returns to London, I need to know about it. His assistant promised to give him that message but I need to be sure that he receives it, and gives me his immediate attention.’
Riley gave his men their assignments for the following day and then clearly surprised Salter by telling him to go home.
‘It’s early yet,’ Salter said.
‘There’s nothing more to be achieved today, Jack. Go home and enjoy being with your family. I shall see the superintendent and then be off myself.’
‘Right you are then, sir.’ Salter gathered up his still damp hat. ‘I’d best be off before you have a change of heart. See you in the morning.’
‘That you will, Jack. Good night.’
Left alone, Riley took a moment to gather his thoughts. The investigation wasn’t proving nearly as straightforward as he had hoped it would be. When were they ever? The deeper he delved, the more people he discovered with reasons for wanting Adelaide out of the way. Unless…until he discovered the identity of the murderer, Danforth’s position would remain untenable, he reminded himself, leaning back in his chair and indulging in an expansive stretch. That ought to be cause for celebration. Riley had long been of the opinion that Danforth was not a natural leader and did little to enhance the reputation of the Detective Department. But to see him dismissed under such circumstances—circumstances that couldn’t be kept confidential indefinitely—would not sit well with Riley’s conscience. He might not respect the man but he didn’t deserve to become a laughing stock simply because he had what many would regard as unnatural desires he was unable to control.
With a sigh, Riley pushed himself to his feet and made his way to the superintendent’s office.
‘What’s your opinion?’ Thompson asked, having listened to Riley’s progress report. ‘Will we catch the blighter, do you suppose?’
‘I certainly hope so, sir, but those hopes currently hinge upon Clement. I shall be most interested to hear what he has to tell me. I’m thinking, you see, that he and Adelaide were somehow intending to undermine her family’s business. They had the expertise and, God alone knows, Adelaide had reasons aplenty for wanting revenge, especially against the uncle, but just as much against the aunt. She was the one who ran that household, even after Huxton’s marriage. Left to her own devices, Mrs Huxton would probably have believed Adelaide’s allegations. But the aunt persuaded her otherwise, resulting in Adelaide’s fall into prostitution and her mother’s early death.’
‘More than enough reason for a resentful woman to want revenge.’ Thompson nodded. ‘I agree with you there and can’t say as I blame her. Can’t see an old lady creeping into a brothel at the dead of night and committing the crime herself, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t arrange for it to be carried out. If the uncle told her he’d seen Adelaide and what she had become, that would be more than reason enough. Protect the family name, and all that.’
‘Quite so.’
‘Very well, Rochester, you’d best get on with it, but keep me informed.’
Riley inclined his head. ‘Naturally.’
‘Has Danforth tried to contact you?’
‘No, not as yet, but I expect he will.’
‘Well, he damned well shouldn’t.’ Thompson fiddled with his pen as he scowled at nothing in particular. ‘His best—indeed his only—hope of hanging on to his career is to keep a low profile and hope that the murderer is caught quickly, before the newspapers get their teeth into the story. If they do that…well, we both know that Danforth’s presence at that place will eventually come to light, and then there will be nothing I can do to protect him.’
‘The waiting will be wearing him down, I shouldn’t wonder.’ Thompson grunted his agreement. ‘In his position I would want to know what was going on, even if I couldn’t realistically expect to be kept fully informed.’
‘Naturally you will decline to tell him anything. I’m depending upon you to do the right thing, Rochester. Someone has to fill Danforth’s position if it’s taken away from him, and you are by far the best candidate. Don’t make any mistakes and put yourself out of the running.’
Riley assured his superior that he would not, thinking as he left his office that promotion would be bittersweet if the opportunity was created at the expense of Danforth’s stupidity.
He walked briskly through the detectives’ room, collected his coat and hat and set off in yet another cab for the south of the river. It was time to find out what Henry’s paramour had to say for herself.
Riley was surprised to discover that Celeste occupied the whole of a semi-detached house of faded elegance in a respectable street. He wondered if she had set up her own brothel, accounting for her need for such a large establishment.
There was nothing faded about the lady herself, he was soon to discover. In her early twenties, her sophistication implied that she had reached the pinnacle of her profession. The moment Riley was admitted to her salon by a uniformed maid, he noticed her naturally gracious movements even before he took in her quite exquisite beauty. She had a waterfall of dark hair, striking blue eyes and a fresh-faced innocence—a combination that he could easily imagine bringing out protective instincts and jealousies in the most selective of men. Men like his brother, married to a shrew of a woman who brought little joy into his life.
Celeste wore a respectable afternoon gown that clung to her svelte figure, showing it off without revealing an ounce of unnecessary flesh. Another surprise.
