Chapter 8 Mr. Notley’s Report
Darcy House, London
Darcy
Mr. Notley arrived at our agreed-upon time, and I directed the investigator to a chair by the fireplace.
After pouring two glasses of brandy, I handed him a drink and took my seat. “I appreciate you completing this assignment so quickly.”
The investigator nodded and placed a bundle of papers on the adjacent table. “We welcome commissions from clients such as yourself. The funds provide a subsidy for our criminal investigations.” He sipped from his glass, then set it down.
“Have you identified Mrs. Cooper’s killer?”
“No, unfortunately not.” His mouth quirked downwards. “That investigation has been set aside due to more pressing crimes, including the recent murder of two children in Greenwich. No doubt you have read about the killings.”
I grimaced as the reported details of that atrocity burst to the forepart of my thoughts. “Yes, and I can well understand why that investigation would be your priority.”
“Rest assured, though, I received your letter and appreciate the information. We shall return our attention to that matter at a later date.” He untied the string binding the papers.
This afternoon, a letter from Bingley had arrived indicating he did not know Mr. Gardiner, and my valet had no knowledge of him either; so, I had awaited Mr. Notley’s arrival with a high degree of anticipation.
My hand swept towards the pile of papers.
“You have brought an impressive stack of documents. Have you uncovered evidence of criminal activity attributable to Mr. Gardiner?”
He tilted his head. “Not at all. After a thorough search for pertinent information that extended from the local area to Meryton, we found no indication that Mr. Gardiner conducts illegal or unsavoury business practices or associates with known criminals. He is as exemplary a citizen as you may expect to find.”
What? I set my glass on the table with a clang. “But there must have been at least a hint of wrongdoing. Could he be a drunkard or a gambler?”
“We found nothing to support either allegation.” His blue eyes narrowed. “What makes you believe he has a nefarious secret?”
“A gentleman of my acquaintance who has known Mr. Gardiner for many years has attested to his deceitful nature. Perhaps Mr. Gardiner is exceptionally clever and better at hiding his misdeeds than most.”
“What offence has he been accused of perpetrating?”
“I do not have any specifics.”
“Then perhaps you will tell me who has maligned Mr. Gardiner.”
I brushed my knuckles against my mouth. “I suppose I may depend upon your discretion.”
“Yes, of course. That is an essential component of my profession.”
“I refer to Mr. Allan Barton, who is the guardian of Mr. Gardiner’s niece, Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Mr. Barton is unshakeable in his belief that Mr. Gardiner is a reprobate.”
The investigator frowned. “Barton? That name sounds familiar.”
I shifted in my seat. “As a matter of fact…um…I named him in my letter to you last month. He and Mr. Walter Rowe have cleft chins, and they both spent most of August in town.”
“Ah yes.”
“Of course, I do not believe either of them could be Mrs. Cooper’s murderer.” I drank from my glass. “At any rate, Mr. Barton is convinced of Mr. Gardiner’s dishonest nature and has taken pains over the years to ensure the man cannot come near Miss Bennet.”
“I see.”
“Did you conduct the investigation of Mr. Gardiner yourself or did others do the work?”
“Three of our men assisted me on this assignment. Each member of our team is efficient and adroit. We elicited intelligence from Mr. Gardiner’s current and former servants, friends, acquaintances, neighbours, and business associates.”
“How can you be certain these people spoke the truth?”
A slight smile softened Mr. Notley’s expression.
“In some instances, they did not. I cannot reveal our methods, but we verify the testimony we receive in multiple ways. In rare instances, we have obtained enough conflicting information to prevent our reaching a conclusion, but not in this situation.”
“Based on your findings, what sort of man is Mr. Gardiner?”
“He has built a reputation as an astute and honest man of business. He and his wife have a wide circle of friends and are well regarded. A few people we queried provided adverse opinions of Mr. Gardiner, and we found each of those grumblers to be less than credible.”
Mr. Notley removed a sheet from his stack of papers and read aloud the details of Mr. Edward Gardiner’s early life, including his childhood in Meryton and education at Eton and Cambridge.
The investigator went on to mention the tragic deaths of Mr. Gardiner’s two sisters, brother-in-law, and niece from influenza in 1794, his apprenticeship with Mr. Pembroke, a successful importer in London, who retired and left the business to him, and Mr. Gardiner’s marriage to Miss Modesty Fletcher with whom he had four children.
After a pause, he looked up at me. “Mrs. Gardiner is the daughter of a country attorney from Lambton.”
Lambton? “That is interesting—my estate in Derbyshire is but five miles from Lambton.”
“Yes, I am aware of that.” Mr. Notley glanced at his notes. “Are you acquainted with the former Miss Fletcher? She moved with her family to London twelve years ago when her father retired. She is now two-and-thirty.”
“No, I have never met her.” Yet an image of her father, Mr. Fletcher, came to me—a short, soft-spoken, and kind man.
Mr. Notley exchanged the paper in his hand for another.
“Over the years, Mr. Gardiner has expanded his business. Five years ago, he moved Pembroke Imports from a small building to a sizeable warehouse. Later that same year, he purchased a house on Gracechurch Street where he resides with his family. If his business continues its current pattern of success, Mr. Gardiner will accumulate enough wealth to acquire a small estate within the next year or two.” He shuffled through the papers, selected three sheets, and gave them to me. “This is your copy of the report.”
I gave each sheet a cursory glance and set them on the table. “I cannot imagine why Mr. Barton would disparage Mr. Gardiner without just cause.”
Mr. Notley raised his glass and imbibed the remainder of the liquor. “Maybe Mr. Barton is the one involved in a criminal undertaking. In my experience, those who are guilty of an offence are prone to accusing others of a similar activity.”
“No, that is a dubious theory. Mr. Barton is a well-known and respected gentleman.” Yet an uncomfortable thickness hampered my throat.
The mere suggestion of Elizabeth in the care of a dishonest man disturbed my equilibrium.
“Nevertheless, when you resume the investigation of Mrs. Cooper’s murder, I should appreciate being notified if you discover anything of concern with regard to Mr. Barton, or Mr. Rowe for that matter. ”
“Very well.”
After Mr. Notley left, I refilled my glass with a generous portion of brandy and settled on the sofa in a semi-reclined position.
It seemed I had no other course but to seek out Mr. Gardiner and obtain his explanation for this estrangement from Elizabeth and the Bartons.
Due to Hayward’s prior acquaintance with Mr. Gardiner, I should ask my friend to accompany me to the man’s house.
Thursday, 10 October
Gracechurch Street, London
Darcy
Hayward followed me out of the coach and stared at the elegant facade before us. “The neighbourhood may not be fashionable, but this house is comparable to the smaller residences at the north end of Park Lane.”
“Yes, I agree.”
On the way to Tattersall’s that morning, I had confided my intentions for Elizabeth to Hayward, which he declared to have suspected. But the information from Mr. Notley’s report astonished my friend, and he readily agreed to accompany me here.
At the auction, Hayward purchased a shiny new phaeton, and I acquired a handsome pair of four-year-old carriage horses to replace two aged steeds who would live out their retirement in a pasture at Pemberley.
We presented our cards to the solemn butler and requested an audience with Mr. Gardiner to discuss a personal matter.
After a short wait in the elegantly appointed sitting-room, we followed the staid servant to a sizeable study.
Miss Bennet’s uncle stood at medium height with a stout figure, light-brown hair, and a pleasant round face.
He made a dapper presentation with his well-tailored and fashionable attire.
One could easily mistake him for a member of the gentry.
Mr. Gardiner approached us with his sight settling upon my friend. “Mr. Hayward, it has been many years since we met.” He offered his hand, which Hayward shook. “Do you bring tidings of my niece?” Creases formed around his eyes. “I hope she is well.”
“She is quite well, and our purpose here relates to her.” With a glance at me, Hayward performed the introductions.
Mr. Gardiner greeted me in a rushed manner, then returned his attention to Hayward. “Pray, I must know…is Elizabeth happy?”
My friend smiled. “Yes, I believe so. She is a lovely, cheerful, and gracious lady.”
With a nod, Mr. Gardiner’s shoulders lowered. He indicated two chairs for us and sat behind his desk.
I provided a concise summary of my association with Elizabeth and the Bartons, my intentions for Elizabeth, and my reasons for having hired an investigator.
Mr. Gardiner held a stiff attitude, and his features hardened into a depiction of enmity. “This is most disturbing—both that Mr. Barton has been denigrating my character and that you deemed it necessary to pry into my affairs.”
“Your pique is understandable, and you have my sincere apology for the intrusion. Under the circumstances, I acted to ensure Miss Bennet’s continued safety and peace of mind.”
With a heave of his chest, Mr. Gardiner groaned. “Based on your account, Elizabeth must hate me or perhaps even fear me. This is insupportable!” His fist pounded upon his desk.