Page 52 of Death of a Courtesan
Chapter Eleven
‘What now?’ Salter asked round a mouthful of meat pie.
‘Now we tackle the half-brother. He might be able to tell us something of interest about Adelaide.’
Salter sniffed. ‘He obviously didn’t like her, given that he was so willing to tell the world how glad he was that she’s dead. I’d be interested to know why. Anyway, I don’t suppose we’ll be able to take anything he tells us as gospel.’
Riley gave a wry smile. ‘Since when did we start expecting anyone to tell us the truth?’
‘Fair enough.’ Salter paused to thoughtfully chew another bite of his pie. ‘I’m surprised you didn’t ask Paul if he knew Adelaide, sir.’
‘He told us he was unaware if his employer had any female friends. Besides, I didn’t want him to warn Clement about the reason for our visit.’
Salter quirked a bushy brow. ‘Interesting that he didn’t ask though.’
‘I noticed his reticence but don’t necessarily think there was anything sinister about it. I don’t need to tell you that the majority of law-abiding citizens are taken aback by a visit from us, and they’re so keen to appear helpful that they don’t always ask the most obvious questions.’
Salter examined the contents of the remainder of his pie, gave a resigned shrug and consumed it in one large bite.
‘We don’t even know yet what the connection between Clement and Adelaide actually was, and that’s because they were so secretive about it,’ Riley went on to say. ‘So I doubt whether Paul would know either. And if Clement really has been in France, he won’t have heard about Adelaide’s death—which is why I didn’t want Paul forewarning him. Even so, I expect the brother will take pleasure in letting him know the moment he gets back.’
‘You think the brother disapproved of Adelaide because of her profession? He didn’t like being reminded of his own mother’s humble origins?’
‘It wouldn’t surprise me. It seems that Clement’s firstborn inherited the bulk of his estate and his half-sibling resents him for that, and goodness alone knows what else.’ Riley finished his indifferent pie, barely conscious of what he was eating, and wiped his fingers on his handkerchief. ‘Come along, Salter, we are for Billingsgate. The market will be over for the day by now so I expect we shall find Raymond Clement in the nearest tavern.’
They ran their quarry to ground in the inaptly named Lamb Tavern, a beacon for those associated with selling fish in the nearby market. It was doing a brisk trade. Upon asking the landlord, Clement was pointed out to them. Riley took a moment to study him before approaching. He was surrounded by people, but appeared sullen and disinterested in the company. He was staring into a tankard of ale and taking no part in the conversations that buzzed around him. No shouting the odds today. Instead he looked distracted and nervous.
He was a large man, with equally large hands, a bulging stomach and thinning, straggly brown hair. He looked up when Riley and Salter approached him and opened his mouth, as though about to tell them to find someone else to annoy. One glance at Riley’s decent tailoring, combined with the fact that he probably looked as out of place as he felt in an establishment full of coarse individuals who smelled strongly of fish, and he snapped his mouth closed again.
‘Clement?’ Salter asked.
‘Who wants to know?’ he asked sullenly.
Salter introduced them both and asked the man to step outside. He looked as though he might refuse, then thought better of it, downed his drink in one long swallow, stood up and belched. The stool he’d been sitting on toppled over and Clement himself didn’t seem too steady on his feet, implying that the ale had had just downed was not his first of the day. Several people turned to stare as the odd procession made its way to the door. No one attempted to intercede or threaten the two policemen, implying that Clement was not popular.
‘What do you want?’ Clement leaned against the tavern’s wall for support, not appearing to feel the rain falling steadily on his hatless head.
‘You were heard shouting about the death of a young woman,’ Salter said. ‘What do you know about that?’
‘A young woman…’ He scratched his head. ‘I shout about a lot of things when the mood takes me. What young woman?’
Salter grabbed Clement by the lapels of his coat and slammed him roughly against the wall. ‘You know bloody well what woman,’ he said. ‘If you think we’re going to stand about getting wet while you give us the runaround, you’ve got another think coming, sunshine.’
‘All right! All right! Adelaide, that’s who you’re talking about, yeah?’
Riley smiled inwardly. Sometimes it was best left to Salter to get the desired result.
Clement pushed himself upright and a little of his confidence returned. ‘Well, good riddance to her is what I said when I ’eard about it. Ain’t no law about expressing an opinion.’
‘But there are laws against murder,’ Riley pointed out.
‘Whoa!’ Clement raised unsteady hands, palms outwards. ‘Don’t know nothin’ about no murder.’
‘How did you know Adelaide?’ Riley asked. ‘Were you one of her customers?’
‘At her prices?’ He turned his head and spat on the ground. ‘Do me a favour.’
‘Then why did you take against her?’ Salter asked. ‘What did she ever do to you?’
