Page 69 of Death of a Courtesan
Salter grinned. ‘It will be interesting to watch Mirabelle’s reaction.’
‘Indeed it will, sergeant.’ Riley leaned back in his chair and thought the matter through. ‘If Mirabelle’s feud with Adelaide dated back a while it’s reasonable to assume that she would have recorded details of it in her diaries. The discovery of those diaries will also give me a legitimate reason to question Ray Clement without revealing what his brother has already told me. A man who holds such extreme prejudices is seldom able to keep his opinions to himself when given the opportunity to voice them. Hopefully, if he is the guilty party, he won’t be able to help contradicting himself and then we’ll have him.’
‘And the uncle?’
‘Oh, we’ll haul him in here and let him know that we have evidence in Adelaide’s own hand that he lied to us.’ Riley grinned. ‘I shall wave a diary under his nose and say that it proves he saw her more often than he let on.’
‘We don’t know that he actually did,’ Salter said, scratching his head.
‘No, but we will when we see his reaction. If he thinks we have something in writing, he wouldn’t be able to talk himself out of trouble by continuing to lie.’ Riley leaned back and stretched his legs out in front of him, crossing them at the ankle. ‘I hope—I expect even—that when he hears of the diary’s existence, he will come to us with a revised story. That, of course, will be equally suspicious.’
Riley and Salter spent an hour ironing out the details of their plan. They had just exhausted all anticipated reactions when a tap at the door preceded Sergeant Barton’s head appearing round it.
‘Urgent message for you,’ he said, passing Riley a folded slip of paper.
Riley thanked him, opened his message and spluttered with surprise. ‘That was fast work,’ he said, admiration in his tone.
‘What was?’ Salter asked.
‘Tom Morton offered to try and trace the solicitor acting for Adelaide and has found him already.’ Riley stood and reached for his hat. ‘Come on, Salter, we’re for Lincoln’s Inn.’
A short time later the two policemen were shown into the office of Mr Maurice Talbot, Solicitor and Purveyor of Oaths. He was a tall, thin young man, with a fresh, open face and keenly intelligent eyes.
‘Lord Riley,’ he said, using Riley’s title rather than the rank with which he had introduced himself. ‘Morton said you needed to speak to me about a client’s affairs.’ He motioned Riley and Salter to the chairs in front of his desk and then resumed his own. ‘But as you know there is the tricky matter of confidentiality.’
‘You haven’t heard then?’ Salter asked.
‘Heard what, sergeant?’
‘Miss Mary Huxton, or Adelaide as she preferred to be known, was unfortunately recently murdered.’
‘Murdered?’ Talbot’s expression reflected surprise, shock and then horror. ‘I read a few lines in the newspaper about a woman in her line of work meeting a sticky end, but I didn’t for one moment imagine that it would be Adelaide.’ He ran both hands down his cheeks, leaving pink tracks on his otherwise white face. ‘This is terrible. The poor, poor girl. She was so young. So vibrant and full of life.’
‘You knew her well?’ Riley asked.
‘Only in a professional capacity…my profession of course,’ he added hastily, his pasty complexion colouring. ‘I cannot recall why she first came to me for legal services. A recommendation, I suppose. However, I can tell you that she was a lovely young woman, determined and resolute. She knew her own mind, and having made it up there was no changing it, despite the advice I gave her.’
‘You knew how she made a living?’ Salter asked.
‘Oh yes, she was never anything other than forthright on that subject.’
Salter scowled. ‘And that didn’t concern you?’
‘Sergeant, I am here to give my clients legal advice, not to stand in judgement upon their lifestyles. I leave that sort of thing to the clergy, although I gather that some of London’s more senior clerics were regular customers at Mrs Sinclair’s establishment.’ He shrugged. ‘Make of that what you will. For my part, hypocrisy is the first word that springs to mind.’
‘Adelaide discussed her clients with you?’ Riley asked.
‘Only in broad terms. No names were ever mentioned and I only know about her ecclesiastical clients because on one visit here we fell into a discussion upon religion. Adelaide held very strong and intelligent views in that regard, none of which our church leaders would have appreciated hearing voiced, since they would have had a hard time refuting them.’
Salter turned a reluctant chuckle into a cough. Riley felt a moment’s sympathy for his sergeant, whose firmly held Christian values were being severely tested by this case. Riley himself was less circumspect. He thought of the aunt’s stringent religious beliefs that had been forced upon Adelaide from an early age and had a good deal of sympathy for the dead girl’s point of view.
‘You admired your client,’ he suggested.
‘Very much so. I know nothing of her past circumstances but I do know, mostly from the things that she didn’t say, that she felt disillusioned and badly let down by those who should have protected her.’
‘I understand she saved almost every penny she earned.’ Talbot inclined his head. ‘Are you able to tell us how much that amounted to and who benefits from her demise?’
Talbot hesitated, then reached into a drawer, flipped through some files and extracted the appropriate one. He opened it and quoted a figure. Riley looked sharply at the solicitor, thinking he must have misheard him. When Talbot stared directly back at him without blinking Riley realised that he had not, and uttered an astonished oath.
