Page 9 of Death of a Courtesan
‘How many of them did Adelaide entertain?’
‘Five or six individually. She dallied, flirted if you like, with more of them in the main salon.’ Riley and Salter exchanged a glance. ‘There’s no need to look so shocked. Half of them just want their backsides paddled and then given a helping hand to express themselves, if you follow my meaning.’
‘All too clearly,’ Salter said, looking repulsed.
Mrs Sinclair got up and went to her desk. She unlocked a drawer with a key that was attached to the small bunch she carried at her waist and pulled out a ledger. She beckoned Salter over and Riley followed behind.
‘These are last night’s clients,’ she said, pointing to a neatly written page. ‘The initial of the girl who entertained each one is in the column beside his name. I am happy for you to copy those names but we have already agreed that you will not take my ledger away.’ She made ticks against all but a dozen on the list. ‘Those that I have marked left well before the end of the soiree. Tennyson would have seen them out. The door to the street is locked, so anyone wishing to return would have had have to ring the bell to be readmitted.’ She paused. ‘No one did, so I think it safe to leave those gentlemen out of your enquiry.’
‘Could they not have come in through the kitchens?’
‘They would have been seen.’
‘Adelaide might have let her killer in herself after you all retired,’ Riley remarked.
‘It is possible, but I don’t suppose we shall ever know for sure.’
‘We will ask him when we find him,’ Riley assured her. ‘Sergeant,’ he added, pointing to the ledger and then to Salter’s notebook. ‘Finding all these people will prove to be a challenge. Presumably they don’t provide their home addresses.’
Mrs Sinclair shrugged. ‘I doubt they all give their real names, at least not to me. But the girls will know a lot more about their individual clients. They tend to talk to them, tell them their troubles, much as they would confess to a priest.’ The hint of a smile touched her lips. ‘My girls are equally discreet and only make them perform a penance if it’s what the client hanker for.’
‘But since it’s Adelaide’s clients what interest us, and given that she’s dead, that ain’t a lot of help,’ Salter pointed out as he scratched away with his pencil.
Mrs Sinclair looked up and met Riley’s gaze. ‘You might find one particular name of interest,’ she said, pointing to a line in the ledger. ‘And I dare say he will know the identities of a lot of the other men here last night.’
Riley and Salter followed her finger and then gaped at one another.
‘Chief Inspector Danforth was here last night?’ Riley asked in an incredulous tone.
‘He is a regular customer,’ Mrs Sinclair responded calmly.
Which explained Danforth’s reasons for keeping himself invisible that morning, Riley thought, astounded by the man’s arrogance. He not only risked his career by frequenting this establishment, but did so using his real name. It beggared belief. Although, since it was Danforth, perhaps it did not. ‘Was he one of Adelaide’s clients?’ he asked.
‘Oh yes. He wouldn’t settle for anyone else.’
