Page 24 of Murder in Moonlight
“Touché, Mr. Davidson. Touché. But are you not already in business with Winsom and Bolton?”
“They lent me money for a successful venture last year. Successful for them, too, I might add. I am offering them partnership in a new project… Or I was. I was very glad to be invited this week to discuss the matter.”
“I see. I suppose that must all be up in the air now, with this tragedy.”
“Yes. It is.”
She was watching his face with sudden intensity. He liked that. There was something exciting about her, something that went way beyond mere physical beauty. When she smiled…
“You do not seem cast down,” she observed.
He shrugged. “About business, why should I be? Thomas Bolton will be amenable, too.”
“And Ellen?”
He did not want to think about Ellen. “She is a child, as you say. Frankly, so is Randolph. I would rather talk to you, look at you. What do you say, ma’am? Should we not look for a little delight in each other?”
To his pleasure, she was neither outraged nor dismissive. Instead, she appeared to consider.
“Wecouldlook,” she allowed. “But would we find it? Considering the circumstances.”
“We could try.”
“I nevertryin such matters, Mr. Davidson. It takes all the fun out of them. Will you be able to tell the policemen where you were around midnight last night?”
“I shall have no problem telling them. They may have a problem believing, though frankly, where else would they expect me to be but alone in bed? Like you, I imagine.”
“You have no valet to vouch for you?”
“I don’t keep a valet, and if I did, there is little room for guests’ servants at Greenforth.” He smiled down at her. “I might wish I had stayed up late playing billiards with Randolph, oreven enticed that pretty maid to my room, but sadly, I did not, since I can only think of you.”
“You are a poor liar. The police are not idiots, you know.”
He regarded her with open amusement. “What do you know of the police, Mrs. Goldrich? Don’t decent people avoid them like the plague?”
“Most, perhaps,” said the surprising widow. “I happened to be present one evening—along with several other, er…decent people—when the police captured a thief and a murderer. Unlike many, I believe London is safer for their presence.”
“Then you will be able to prove where you were around midnight last night?”
“I will,” she said tranquilly.
*
It was onlyafter they had agreed that she should be the one to talk to Davidson that Solomon realized he too was using her charms to entrap a man. No wonder there had been a gleam of wry laughter in her eyes as she inclined her head.
“By the same token, you will appeal more than I to the ladies. See who you can seduce into telling the truth.”
He didn’t know whether to be amused or ashamed, so elected for neither, merely tracked Miriam Albright to the stables. When he glanced back, Constance was strolling in the sunshine beside Ivor Davidson.
Was he putting her in danger asking for her help? If Davidson had murdered Winsom…
Equally, Constance could have murdered him. She was strong enough and brave enough. He reserved judgment on whether or not she was wicked enough. The trouble was, she did not seem wicked in the slightest, which was a dangerous conclusion to reach about someone in her profession.
No, he was far from immune. But even allowing for that, her distress seemed touchingly genuine when she considered how the murder had been committed, and how close they might have come to saving him. Shefeltthe tragedy.
At the stables, he waved the grooms away, assuring them he was only visiting his own horses. Inside the stable, he found Miriam Albright, her arms around the neck of a plump chestnut mare, her face buried in its neck as it nuzzled her like a foal.
It was an oddly touching moment, and for an instant he contemplated creeping back out again and coming in more noisily. Before he could, however, Miriam jerked around and saw him. The mare lifted her head and huffed.
