Page 63 of Courier of Death
Leo had kept a brisk pace on the way to the Stewarts’ home, her mind flying as swiftly as her feet. Now that she’d arrived, she paused to take several breaths.
“Miss Spencer,” Jasper said, his tone stern with warning. The formal address was surely due to Mr. Stewart’s presence. “What is this about?”
On the way to Carlisle Street, she’d kept the image of the announcement for the Conservatives for Political Values in the front of her memory. The newsprint was as clear in her mind as the actual article, which she’d folded and stuffed into her coat pocket. It was the nameMr. Jos. Banford, MPthat her attention had kept sliding toward, again and again. It wasn’t until she’d crossed Shaftsbury Avenue that she understood why.
She turned to Geraldine’s husband. “Mr. Stewart, were you aware thatThe Timeswould reveal your political ambitions in today’s paper?” Leo pulled the crumpled newsprint from her pocket and held it up. His nostrils flared, and a flicker of panic brightened his eyes. “Perhaps last week’s meeting of the Conservatives for Political Values fled your mind, what with everything happening with your wife.”
Jasper gestured for her to hand him the paper. “Explain.”
She relinquished the paper, not needing it any longer. “Mr. Porter Stewart is listed as a new member of the conservative group and a future candidate for the party in next year’s general election.”
Sergeant Lewis whistled. “Conservative? They’re up in arms against women’s rights, aren’t they?”
“Most are, yes, but not all,” Mr. Stewart said, his cheeks flushing.
“Your wife told me that you weren’t political in the least. That you supported her and the WEA entirely,” Leo went on.
“Ah, but we’ve just learned that Mr. Stewart here has thoughts and opinions of his own, which he shared not with his wife, but with Emma Bates,” Jasper said, glancing up from the Metropolitan News column. He cocked a brow, and Leo understood perfectly—not only did Mrs. Bates have a romantic interest in Mr. Stewart, but he had welcomed her attentions.
“It is not a crime to hold differing political views from one’s wife,” the man said.
“Views Emma Bates perhaps encouraged you toward,” Jasper said.
“Views your wife was in the dark about,” Leo added, her mind readily absorbing this new information. “When did you plan to inform her?”
He shifted uneasily, pulling at his ascot. “In due time, not that it is any of your concern. How are you even involved in this, Miss Spencer? Are you colluding with the police?”
Leo overlooked his questions, unwilling to let her attention be diverted. “I couldn’t understand why the name Banford was familiar to me. He’s a member of Parliament and the president of Conservatives for Political Values,” she said as an aside for Jasper and Sergeant Lewis. “I knew I’d seen his name somewhere recently, but it took me some time to realize where.You see, while reading through Niles Foster’s scheduling diary for Sir Elliot, I’d been so focused on the days immediately surrounding the bombing that I put the entries for the weeks before then to the back of my mind.”
But the images of the earlier diary entries were still there, waiting for her to draw them up and re-examine them.
Lewis frowned. “You went through Foster’s things?”
Jasper held up a hand to silence him, though he would have to make some excuse for her prying later.
“It was written in the diary thatBanford’snew membermet with Sir Elliot Payne two Mondays ago, a day before the meeting in which your membership in a Tory party committee was announced,” Leo said. “Was it during that meeting with Sir Elliot that you asked him to cancel his speaking engagement with the WEA?”
Mr. Stewart began to splutter just as the maid, Betty, entered the room to ask if she should bring tea. He shot out a hand to send her away.
“Or maybe you bribed him to do so,” Jasper suggested.
“Bribed him? This is offensive. You have no proof,” he spat.
Leo conceded. “Perhaps not, but I think Niles Foster did. He was either present or overheard your conversation with Sir Elliot.”
Lewis turned to Jasper. “An MP hopeful offering a bribe to a member of the opposite party and having it accepted. That could be the valuable information Foster told his lady friend he’d come into.”
Jasper slapped the newspaper into his palm. His stare burrowed into Mr. Stewart. “Foster came to see you at your bank to blackmail you.”
“I’m sure you didn’t take kindly to that,” Lewis tacked on.
Mr. Stewart stalked to the other side of the room as if to get away from the accusations. “You aren’t seriously fitting me up for that man’s murder?”
“You have motive,” Jasper said. “Damn good motive. He tells you he’s going to expose you unless you pay him, but of course, you know he’ll just keep coming back for more.”
“No.” The man goggled, looking between the three of them. “No, that isn’t true. I had nothing to do with what happened to him.”
Unwilling to relent, Jasper followed Mr. Stewart to the other side of the room. “Then tell me what did happen because right now, you are my prime suspect for his murder.”
