Chapter Seventeen #3
“If you come across him in person, don’t confront him,” Solomon warned. “Send a message to Inspector Harris and to Hat, then come and find us.”
“Where will you be?” Lenny asked.
“First with the St. Johns,” Solomon said, “and then at the docks.”
“With my mother,” Constance said, wrinkling her nose. “And then wherever she sends me. We’ll keep in touch with Hat, too.”
Lenny and Janey left with cheerful determination. Constance put her hat back on.
Solomon caught her at the door, drawing her quickly into his arms. “Don’t be reckless, Constance. Don’t go alone into dangerous places. Wait for me to come with you.”
“I will,” she said before giving him a quick, warm kiss on the lips. “If it comes to it, I’ll take Gerry.”
Gerry was her mother’s longtime assistant who had known Constance since childhood. He was certainly street smart, though he didn’t fill Solomon with confidence. As far as Constance was concerned, no protector could.
But dwelling on such issues only served as distraction. So he kissed her back, and they left the building together before going their separate ways.
*
Solomon was admitted to the St. John residence immediately and was left alone only a few minutes before the footman conducted him to the lady of the house.
For once, Mrs. St. John was alone, standing in front of the empty fireplace to greet him.
“Mr. Grey,” she said, not cold precisely, but not welcoming, either, which gave him an inkling that there had been some change.
He bowed. “Good morning, ma’am. I apologize if I am intruding.”
She did not respond directly. “My soon-to-be son-in-law has told me of his…agreement with you. You should know that I do not altogether approve, either of your commission in particular or your profession in general.”
“It is certainly not usual,” he replied noncommittally, “but we have managed to help people in the past.”
Her nostrils flared in disbelief, or perhaps just distaste. “And you have come to quiz me? Interrogate me in my own home? Like the police?” There was a wealth of disdain in the last word.
“No, ma’am,” Solomon said, “although any information you might give me at this stage can only help. In fact, I come with news, which you might not yet have heard from the police. They have arrested a certain Veronique Kenny in connection with blackmail and, possibly, the murder of your husband.”
She blinked, clearly startled. “Veronique?” she repeated, sinking onto the nearest fireside chair. She blinked rapidly as though clearing her head. “Murder, you say? But either it was an accident or the tramp was to blame!”
Solomon gazed down at her thoughtfully.
“And Veronique would not blackmail anyone!” Mrs. St. John declared as an incontrovertible fact.
“Seriously, ma’am? Have you never seen any of her accounts?”
“Why, no. They came straight to my husband.” She grimaced. “Although I suppose it is one of the things I shall have to learn to do myself. At least while Anthony is away…”
There was no time for a gentle approach. Brutally, Solomon recited the items and the amounts on the bills he had seen.
“Nonsense,” she scoffed. “Less than half of that for the most expensive of Bella’s gowns!”
Solomon handed her the paid bills. Her mouth fell open. There was no doubting her astonishment.
“But why?” she blurted. “Why would he have paid such an exorbitant sum? Why did he not ask me?”
“Because he was being blackmailed,” Solomon said patiently.
All color fled her face. “Nonsense,” she said once more in a strangled voice. “You are ridiculous.”
“I shan’t explain how it was done, and believe me, the matter is being treated with sympathy and discretion.
The blackmailers are the criminals here, and Veronique will pay.
I came only to warn you to be wary of speaking to strangers.
Veronique’s husband, who was her partner in crime, has so far eluded the police.
We know he has some information torn from Veronique’s book, under your name, so make sure that until he is captured, your servants admit no strangers to the house. ”
Mrs. St. John held a handkerchief to her white lips. She seemed to try to speak and then closed her mouth again. The silence was so loud it seemed to drown out even the relentlessly ticking clock on the mantelpiece.
“I’m sure you are mistaken,” she said at last. “But I will see no one until this man is apprehended.”
She stood and rang the bell. The interview was at an end.
“Thank you,” Solomon said, bowing again.
The same footman appeared to show him out, closing the door behind them.
“I don’t suppose that Mr. Cordell is here?” Solomon murmured.
“He is escorting Miss Bella in a turn around the gardens,” the footman said.
Solomon’s neck prickled. He almost bolted across the square to the gardens, searching among all the strolling couples, the maids and nurses with their charges, the old men on the benches, and the dog walkers pretending not to see the vulgar actions of their canine companions.
He was looking for Cordell and Bella, but also for Kenny.
The police would never look for him here…
At first, he saw no one he recognized, not even Mrs. Willow or Miss Morton. He wondered distractedly how—or if—they would greet him in the bright light and safety of day.
At last, he saw Cordell and Bella, arm in arm and deep in conversation. Perhaps already wary, Cordell saw him coming and veered toward him with a murmur to his companion.
“Are you looking for us, sir?” Bella asked, with an unenviable mix of eagerness and apprehension. “Have you news?”
“Yes, but I shan’t linger on details. Veronique has been arrested for blackmail, but her husband, who we think was her partner, is still loose and dangerous.
We have reason to think he might approach Mrs. St. John, so I have suggested she admit no one but the closest of friends to her house.
I would ask you the same thing. Cordell, will you stay with the family until this man is caught? Have a word with Anthony, too.”
Cordell met his gaze and nodded. At the very least, he understood not to ask questions that Solomon did not want to answer in front of Bella. The last thing he wanted was to knock her mother off the parental pedestal. Mrs. St. John’s secrets should remain just that.
“Did he kill my father?” Bella asked in a small, hard voice.
“I think perhaps he might have. It’s one of the reasons the police need to question him.
Try not to worry, but if you do see any strangers lurking, send word to Inspector Harris or to our office.
” Solomon all but shooed them toward the nearest gate and the St. John house.
Only when he saw them at the front door did he turn away.
He wondered briefly if he should request David’s company again, but in the end he decided against it. He had the feeling that he didn’t have time, that urgency was of paramount importance. And besides, this was the life Solomon had chosen. David had not.