Page 79 of Death of a Courtesan
Chapter Sixteen
Riley spent much of the night trying to work out what Amelia had meant by that cryptic remark. He was no nearer to reaching a decision the following morning, so he disciplined himself to concentrate instead upon the murder he had yet to solve. Once he had done that he would have a frank discussion with Amelia and do his utmost to persuade her to talk to him about her first marriage. If she trusted him sufficiently to revisit that unhappy phase in her life, then he would know how to proceed.
But first things first.
‘Morning, sir,’ Salter said, breezing into Riley’s office minutes after Riley himself had arrived. ‘Blimey, you don’t look like you got much sleep. Must be hard, being obliged to dance all night and sleuth all day. Don’t know how you do it.’
‘Sometimes I surprise myself,’ Riley said with a droll smile.
Carter put his head round the door. ‘Derek Huxton’s here,’ he said.
‘Already?’ Salter grinned. ‘Must have a guilty conscience.’
‘Did you conduct the search that I asked you to do when you were in Ware yesterday, Carter?’ Riley asked.
‘We did, sir, and found just what you thought we would. There was nothing suspicious about it.’
Riley nodded. ‘Any paperwork?’
‘Well no.’ Carter shook his head. ‘None that we could find. But it might have been kept in the house.’
‘And equally it might not, because it doesn’t exist.’ Riley stretched his arms above his head, taking a moment to consider the implications of Carter’s discoveries. ‘Thanks, Carter, you did well. Show Huxton into the interview room. We’ll let him stew for a while.’
When Riley and Salter walked in twenty minutes later, Riley was surprised by the extent of Huxton’s agitation. The scar on his face looked pronounced against his pale skin, his attempt to cover it with his whiskers ineffectual. Riley hadn’t slept much the night before. Huxton looked as though he hadn’t slept at all, or bathed, or changed his clothing for a week. The customary red carnation was absent from his buttonhole.
‘Sorry to have kept you waiting,’ Riley said, not sounding in the least bit sorry as he sat himself on the opposite side of the scarred table from Huxton. Salter leaned against the wall, looking menacing as only Salter could when he took against a suspect. Riley noted a film of perspiration decorating Huxton’s brow, despite the fact that the room was cool. It suggested nerves, as did the tremor in his hands, but he still shot Riley an unconvincingly defiant look.
‘I can’t think why you would want to speak to me again, but I’m happy to help in any way that I can. Mary’s disappearance tore our family apart, and it would be helpful if my brother could understand why she felt the need to leave.’
‘I should have thought that having to live with your shrew of a sister would be reason enough,’ Salter said.
Huxton frowned at the insult, but didn’t spring to his sister’s defence. ‘Ruth has her own way of doing things,’ was all he said.
‘My constables told you yesterday that we discovered Mary’s diaries, which have opened up several different lines of enquiry.’
‘Wh-what’s that to me?’
‘What it is to you,’ Salter replied, stepping forward and slapping a hand on the desk hard enough to make the papers Riley had placed on it jump in the air, ‘is that it confirms your culpability. You,’ he added, pointing a thick finger inches from Huxton’s eyes, ‘are the reason why she left. We know you tried to rape her. What sort of a man subjects his own niece to that sort of torture?’
Salter kicked the chair out from under Huxton, sending him sprawling across the rough tiles of the floor. He reached down, picked Huxton up by the lapels of his jacket and slammed him against the wall. Dust puffed from the crumbling brickwork and mingled with the perspiration that now slid freely down Huxton’s face. Huxton sent Riley a supplicating look which Riley pretended not to see. Instead, he picked up one of the papers from the table and pretended to take an interest in its contents.
‘She trusted you, you filthy animal, and you were supposed to protect her!’ Salter raged. ‘We have what you did to her confirmed in her own hand, so there’s no point in denying it, or trying to make excuses for your own depravity. You say her disappearance tore your family apart and yet you knew full well why she left and never said a word.’
Still holding Huxton against the wall, Salter drew back a clenched fist and Riley knew that he longed to knock the man senseless. Uneasy with this case from the first, Salter had finally found someone upon whom he could vent his spleen. Riley tried to imagine how he would feel if anyone took such liberties with his beloved Sophia, more of a daughter to him than a niece. And yet he didn’t feel as shocked as Salter did at Huxton’s inability to control his base desires. He had dealt with enough of life’s degeneracies, he supposed, to have reached the point where plenty of things still disgusted him but nothing shocked him anymore.
‘That will do, sergeant,’ Riley said mildly. ‘Allow Mr Huxton an opportunity to explain himself, if he possibly can.’
Riley watched the fight go out of his sergeant. Salter exhaled loudly, dropped his fist and released Huxton, who immediately moved as far away from him as the confines of the small interview room would allow. He picked up his chair and sat back down at the table, giving Riley an imploring look.
‘This should be interesting,’ Salter muttered, retreating to the wall again and folding his arms across his chest.
‘It isn’t what you think.’ The remnants of Huxton’s self-assurance deserted him and he wiped his now freely sweating brow with his sleeve.
‘It never is,’ Riley responded with a cynical sigh. ‘Mr Huxton, this is your opportunity to tell us the truth and I strongly recommend that you do so.’ Riley looked meaningfully at Salter, who was chewing a thumbnail and glowering at Huxton.
‘Mary and I were close. She’d talk to me in a way that she couldn’t to her mother, and certainly not to my sister. She told me stuff. About how the local lads were always after her and how confused she was by her feelings. Ruth was always telling her it was sinful to feel…well, what it’s natural for a pretty young girl to feel when a lad pays her attention.’
‘So you took matters a step further and demonstrated your point.’
