Page 22 of Murder on Harley Street
Harry’s first question got straight to the point, as requested. “Do you know why anyone would want to murder your wife?”
“Of course not. My wife was popular. Everyone liked her. What happened must have been a dreadful accident. A faulty machine, something like that.” Mr. Kempsey rocked back on his heels, hands clasped behind him, and regarded Harry levelly. Too levelly. He didn’t blink.
“Did she have a heart condition?” Harry asked.
Finally Mr. Kempsey blinked. “What do you mean?”
“Was she seeing Dr. Iverson for her heart?”
The hands behind Mr. Kempsey’s back slapped together. “She saw him for her nerves. She was otherwise in good health, as far as I’m aware. The doctor will know more, I’m sure.”
“She didn’t confide in you?” I asked.
“That’s what the doctor was for, Miss Fox.” He glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. “While I appreciate you’re trying to clear Iverson’s name, I’m sure the police will release him soon. There is no reason for him to have harmed my wife. None at all.” He indicated the door. “Now, if you don’t mind.”
He saw us out of the library, but was waylaid by the housekeeper, waiting to speak to him. They re-entered the library while the butler saw us out of the house. We’d just set foot on the pavement when the front door reopened. The woman who’d taken an interest in us upon our arrival slipped through the gap and raced down the steps. She clasped a black-beaded drawstring bag in both hands.
“A moment, if you please. I overheard you introduce yourselves to my brother-in-law as private detectives investigating the death of my sister.”
“I’m Harry Armitage and this is Cleopatra Fox. We’re very sorry for your loss, Mrs…”
“Miss Rowbottom. Isabel is—was—my baby sister.” Tears welled in eyes rimmed red from crying. “I can’t believe she’s gone. She was so full of life, so vibrant. Everyone adored her.” She sighed. “That may have been her downfall.”
“What do you mean?” Harry asked.
“She was very popular, and she welcomed that popularity. I think it got her murdered.”
My gaze moved beyond her to the house. “You mean popular with men?”
Miss Rowbottom blushed. “She was having a liaison with Dr. Iverson, but there may have been at least one other.” She removed a packet of letters from the bag, tied together with a pink ribbon. “I found these yesterday in her belongings.” She glanced over her shoulder at the door then pressed them into Harry’s hand. “Take them to the police if you think it’s necessary.”
“Your brother-in-law knows about them?” he asked.
She nodded. “I showed them to him after I found them. He wanted them destroyed, but I saved them. They prove that Mrs. Iverson had a motive for killing my sister, so I didn’t want to get rid of them.”
“They prove Mr. Kempsey also had a motive.”
“No! That’s not true! Itoldyou, he didn’t know about them until I showed them to him yesterday. Their very existence is proof that he’s innocent. If he had found them, he would have destroyed them.”
Just because he didn’t know the letters existed didn’t mean he was also unaware of the relationship, but I didn’t point that out to her. Instead, I said, “He may not have known about the letters or affair before her death, but he knows about them now. Yet he didn’t mention them to us.”
“Well, of course he didn’t. What man likes to admit to being cuckolded? He’s very proud, and if this case goes to court, it will become a torrid, salacious business. He wants the affair to remain private. Which is why he doesn’t want the police to see these, but I think it’s necessary. Please don’t let them get into the wrong hands.”
Harry slipped the letters into his jacket pocket. “Thank you, Miss Rowbottom. I must warn you, if these letters are key to finding the murderer, I cannot guarantee they or the affair will remain a private matter.”
“I understand, but do your best.” She looked over her shoulder at the house again. “If it does get out, then we’ll deal with whatever comes together. I won’t abandon my brother-in-law. Now, I must go. He needs me to act as hostess.”
“One more question,” Harry said. “What does Mr. Kempsey do?”
“He works for the Post Office. He was heavily involved in the transfer of the trunk lines held by the National Telephone Company to the Post Office a few years ago. He worked his way up from nothing, so he’s always been careful with his reputation. As I said, he’s a very proud man. He won’t like admitting that Isabel had an affair right under his nose and he knew nothing about it.”
I watched her hurry back up the stairs and wondered if Mr. Kempsey had been as oblivious to Isabel’s affair as her sister seemed to think.
“She seems keen,” Harry said.
“To assist her newly single brother-in-law or to besmirch her sister’s name?”
He patted the pocket containing the letters. “Both.”
