Chapter 15
Hadrian stood in a small sitting room in the Chadwicks’ house with Detective Inspector Teague as they waited for the elder Mr. Chadwick to join them. The house was eerily quiet and somber with its black hangings and aura of grief.
“How do you do this?” Hadrian asked quietly.
“What do you mean?” Teague asked.
“I imagine you must speak to many people who are in mourning as you investigate deaths.”
“I can’t say I’ve gotten used to it,” Teague said. “Thankfully, the vast majority of our work doesn’t involve death, but other crimes. Most often, we investigate theft and fraud.” He gave Hadrian a wry look. “I would say most of the murders I deal with these days somehow involve you and Miss Wren.”
“It’s not lost on us that our investigations somehow inevitably lead to murder.”
“Don’t let that get out,” Teague warned with an edge of humor. “No one will want to hire Miss Wren anymore.”
“I’m not sure they do now.” Hadrian tried and failed to keep the scorn from his voice.
“This will pass.” Teague’s tone held a confidence Hadrian didn’t feel. “People need only be reminded of her assistance with the apprehension of the Levitation Killers, and she may well yet catch this kidnapper. I would not bet against Miss Wren.”
That Hadrian agreed with wholeheartedly. “Neither would I.” The article Clement was purportedly writing about Tilda couldn’t be published soon enough.
Chadwick walked into the sitting room. He wore a black armband around his upper left arm. “I hope you’ve come to tell me that you caught my daughter’s killer.”
Teague inclined his head. “Not yet, but we’re collecting evidence which is bringing us closer.” To Hadrian, that seemed optimistic to say the least. “We were hoping to speak with Mrs. Chadwick about anything that might have gone missing from Miss Chadwick’s wardrobe when she was abducted.”
“Specifically, we’re interested in a dark gray cloak and a pair of black boots with three buttons along the sides,” Hadrian said.
“I don’t know the first thing about what my daughter wears—wore.” Chadwick sniffed. “I can tell you she was dressed in the finest. Mrs. Chadwick has gone up to her room, but perhaps Bannet can help you, if she can stop blubbering long enough to be of use.”
Hadrian and Teague exchanged a glance of concern as Chadwick retreated from the room. He returned a moment later.
“The butler’s gone to fetch the maid.” Chadwick moved to stand near the hearth where the small portrait of his daughter sat on the mantel. “I saw the warning in the Daily News today. Though no name was mentioned, may I assume the kidnapping victim who was returned is Lady Priscilla?”
“That’s correct,” Teague confirmed.
Chadwick’s face instantly changed as anger and anguish carved lines around his eyes and mouth.
“How are they so fortunate? Why was their daughter returned and ours was not?” He glowered at Teague.
“The only difference is I was foolish enough to hire Miss Wren, who then involved you, Detective Inspector. I’m glad His Grace heeded my advice. ”
“Your advice?” Teague asked.
Chadwick held his head up proudly. “I sent him word yesterday afternoon, cautioning him not tell anyone if he received another note and to just pay the ransom. I wish to God I’d done the same.”
“We don’t know if that’s why your daughter wasn’t returned,” Teague said evenly. “Believe what you must, but we will continue our investigation to determine the truth of what happened.”
Chadwick’s face turned red, but before he could respond, the butler returned with Bannet. She did indeed look as if she had been crying. Her face was quite red, as were her eyes, and she sniffed as she regarded them with apprehension.
“Compose yourself, Bannet,” Chadwick barked. “They want to ask you about some of Delia’s clothing—a cloak and a pair of boots.”
Hadrian repeated the descriptions of both to the maid.
Her brow furrowed. “The cloak is not familiar. However, Miss Chadwick does have a pair of boots such as you’re describing. I noticed only yesterday that they’re missing. They’re from last Season and had been stored in the back of a cupboard. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before.”
Chadwick glared at Bannet. “You worthless chit.” He turned his gaze on Teague. “How do you know about these boots?”
“Lady Priscilla was returned wearing them,” Teague replied.
“They’re Delia’s,” Chadwick said, his eyes a bit wild. “I want them back. My wife will want them back.”
“Of course,” Teague said gently. “Though we cannot release them to you until after we’ve solved this case. They are an important piece of evidence.”
“They are Delia’s boots,” Chadwick said fiercely, but his tone also held an unmistakable note of despair. Hadrian was angry with the man for his treatment of poor Bannet, but he was in the throes of unimaginable grief.
Teague regarded him kindly. “We’ll return them as soon as possible. I understand your agitation.”
“How could you?” Chadwick asked bitterly.
Teague looked to Bannet. “Did you notice anything else missing?”
“I didn’t,” Bannet replied. She sent a sad glance toward Chadwick who was now staring at his daughter’s portrait. “And I looked carefully after I discovered the boots were missing.”
“Can you think of anything that might have been unusual in the days or even weeks before Miss Chadwick was kidnapped, such as a…romantic entanglement?” Teague asked.
Hadrian wondered if Teague was also grasping since he was asking the same question that Tilda said she’d asked Lady Priscilla earlier. Or, was he hoping to uncover something since Lady Priscilla had suspected her friend might have had a suitor?
Bannet hesitated. Her eyes darted again toward Chadwick, and her neck flushed.
She clasped her hands together tightly. It seemed to Hadrian she was withholding something.
Perhaps she was worried about revealing whatever it was in front of her employer.
He disliked causing the young woman discomfort, but they needed information.
Hadrian began to think Teague—and Tilda—was on to something. He gave the maid a smile of encouragement. “If you can think of anything, no matter how small, it might be helpful to us.”
Chadwick crossed his arms and glowered at the maid. “Out with it, Bannet.”
She attempted to square her shoulders but ended up slumping.
“Miss Chadwick’s behavior changed a bit a couple of months before she was taken.
She seemed excited about something, but when I questioned her about it, she was secretive.
There were some afternoons she would visit with a friend, and when she came home, she was distracted.
She seemed almost…rapturous. I asked her about it a second time, and she told me to mind my own business. ”
“As you should,” Chadwick snapped at her. “What are you insinuating?”
Bannet turned ashen. “Nothing, Mr. Chadwick. I’m merely sharing what his lordship asked me to.”
Teague regarded her with fervent curiosity. “What do you think was happening?”
“It seemed she may have had…a secret admirer.” Bannet sounded uncertain, and her posture was of someone who appeared ready to flee.
Hadrian and Teague exchanged looks of surprise—and excitement. Hopefully, this was a useful clue.
Chadwick unfolded his arms and took a step toward the maid.
“I don’t like what you’re implying, Bannet.
Delia is gone. I can’t believe you would suggest she was carrying on with someone secretly.
I’d already been wondering why we would keep you on since Delia is no longer with us, but this settles the matter.
Whether you’re lying or you kept something about Delia from us, you have failed in your duties.
Your employment here is terminated immediately. Pack your things and go.”
“Now?” she asked, her lip trembling.
“Yes.” Chadwick’s gaze was hard, his tone sharp as a blade. “And I don’t wish to see you again.”
Hadrian couldn’t stand by and watch the man berate the poor maid, let alone sack her. He felt terrible for the young woman. It was obvious that she was trying very hard not to cry. “Mr. Chadwick, I hardly think it’s necessary to dismiss Bannet immediately. She is grieving too.”
“This is none of your affair, my lord. You’ve stuck your nose in enough.” Chadwick looked to Bannet. “Why are you still here?”
The maid spun on her heel and fled the room.
Hadrian clenched his jaw in anger.
“You’re not to share anything Bannet just told you,” Chadwick demanded. “None of that could be true, though I can’t imagine why the maid would concoct such a tale. Delia was a good girl. Now please go, and don’t return. I have no patience to speak with you again.” He stalked angrily from the room.
Teague exhaled. “That was unfortunate, but we learned something. Lady Priscilla may have been right.”
“We now have two people—independent of one another—who’ve suspected Miss Chadwick of having an admirer or a suitor,” Hadrian said. Tilda would be thrilled to have a clue.
“We just need to find out who.” Teague narrowed his eyes with purpose.
“Perhaps Vincent Chadwick might know.” Hadrian hoped so.
“Let’s find out.” Teague led Hadrian back to the entrance hall where the butler was waiting. His features seemed taut.
“We were hoping to speak with Mr. Vincent Chadwick today,” Teague said. “May we see him?”
The butler glanced toward the staircase hall, then moved closer to the door. “Mr. Chadwick would not appreciate me allowing you to stay.”
“Speaking with Vincent could very well save a future kidnapping victim,” Hadrian said. “Surely Mr. Chadwick would support that.”
“Is this about Lady Priscilla?” the butler asked. “Is she…?”
Hadrian was surprised by the butler’s comment and shot a look toward Teague, who appeared to have the same reaction.
“She’s home safe,” Teague assured the butler, who visibly relaxed upon hearing the news. “What do you know of her?”