Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Before heading to Mount Street, Gideon stopped at Vine Street Station to check on any reports from the constables he had assigned the task of confirming alibis for Sir Christopher Redmayne, Lucy Faraday, and Lance Pennington.
He found one report on his desk confirming Sir Christopher’s presence in the House based on the voting register. He also discovered Constable Thacker at his own desk, head bent, writing what looked to be another of the reports Gideon was waiting for.
“Thacker? Have you made progress with your inquiries?”
“Yes, sir. I spoke with Miss Greene, who confirmed that Lucy Faraday spent several hours with her, dining and conversing on the evening of the twenty-eighth of July.”
“The times of that visit?”
Thacker consulted his notes and read from them. “Approximately half four in the late afternoon until approximately nine in the evening.”
Miss Faraday had never been a suspect in Gideon’s mind, and he was not surprised to hear she had been honest about where she’d been that evening.
“And regarding Mr. Lance Pennington? Did you speak to anyone at the theatre?”
Thacker nodded and reached for his notebook, flipping through pages. “Yes, sir. I spoke to several people at the theatre. The ticket attendant said he could not recall if he saw Mr. Pennington that night.”
Gideon tapped his fingers against his thigh, contemplating his impressions of Lance Pennington. The man had looked haggard on the morning of the twenty-ninth, as if he hadn’t slept at all.
“So, he wasn’t there?”
“Well, the ticket attendant said that he himself works front of house, and Mr. Pennington is generally working in the back of house. He directed me to Mr. Warner, who serves as the theatre’s director. That gentleman shares an office with Mr. Pennington when he is at the playhouse.”
Thacker referred again to his notes, running his finger along the page as he read. “Warner says he saw Mr. Pennington at the theatre in the early afternoon, because they spoke at length about a new play Mr. Pennington had delivered.”
“Times?”
“He placed the encounter between and two and three and was uncertain of the time. It was his impression that Mr. Pennington departed afterwards, and he says he never saw him return that evening.”
Gideon made a noise of acknowledgement, but the information fired his thoughts. Why would the man’s brother wish to do Percival Pennington harm?
“Anything else?”
“Just completing the reports regarding the neighbors. Most attested to seeing nothing out of the ordinary. Only a Mrs. Paley at number five had anything to report at all.”
“What was that?”
“She said she saw a lady rushing down the street at a quick pace, but she could not recall the exact time. Only said that the rain had let up a bit, but night had not yet fallen.”
“Not even an estimate?”
Thacker flipped through notebook pages once more. “She says she takes her supper at approximately seven in the evening and it was sometime before then.”
“Any description of the lady?”
“She could make out very little. The glimpse was through her lace curtain. Mrs. Paley said she wore a hat, seemed youthful, and moved quickly, which is why she took note of her.”
“Thank you, Thacker. I’m off to Mount Street. Perhaps I’ll speak to her again. Number five, you say?”
“Yes, sir.”
As Gideon stepped out of the station to hail a cab, he considered what he had told Electra. His impression that the killer must have been a man. But perhaps he was underestimating a lady’s strength, particularly if she was fueled by anger, fear, or some other strong emotion.
A woman’s approach might have caught Pennington off guard in a way a gentleman’s wouldn’t.
The cab ride was surprisingly swift as traffic was a bit lighter before the end of the workday for most Londoners. After climbing the single step at 12 Mount Street, he knocked at Pennington’s front door and Mr. Burton answered soon after.
“Detective Inspector.” Burton’s brows rose in apparent surprise and then with a hint of curiosity.
“Good afternoon, Burton. Is Mr. Lance Pennington at home?”
“He is, Inspector. Please come inside and I will determine whether he is available to speak to you.”
“Is Miss Faraday at home?”
“She’s not, Inspector. I believe she’s calling on a friend.”
While Gideon stood, bowler hat clutched in his hands, he noted that the townhouse had been decked in black to signify the mourning period for Pennington.
A mirror had been covered in black cloth, and black ribbon hung around a portrait he’d only glimpsed on his first visit.
Now, he noticed it was of Pennington, his brother, and an older man, who he guessed was their father.
The father had his hand resting on Percival Pennington’s shoulder, likely to signal that he was the eldest, the heir.
Burton emerged from a door down the hall and approached.
“He will see you, Inspector. I’ll take you back.”
Gideon followed him to the threshold of a dark study paneled in wood, with dark green drapes pulled, keeping out of most of the light. Bookshelves lined one wall, and gaslight sconces illuminated the room.
At the far end of the study, Lance Pennington stepped out from behind a desk piled with documents and ledgers.
“Hello, Inspector Pierce, I trust you’ve come with news of my brother’s case.”
The younger man looked haggard, even beyond what he had the morning Gideon first met him, as if sleep eluded him. There was the faintest whiff of alcohol about him as he stepped forward to greet Gideon.
“Shall we sit?” He gestured toward the chairs near an unlit fireplace.
Once Gideon was seated, Pennington gestured toward the teeming desk. “As you can see, I decided I might have a look at the accounts for the house here on Mount Street and my brother’s other holdings.”
“Did Mr. Pennington leave no will?”
“Oh, he did indeed, but in anticipation of the reading, I wanted to have an idea of what I could expect.” The man didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands. He placed them on the chair’s arms, then on the tops of his thighs.
He was nervous, seemingly anxious about the accounts. It was a motive Gideon had not yet considered. Perhaps there was some monetary inducement in Pennington's murder.
“I am assuming you are heir to his estate, Mr. Pennington.”
The sharp-jawed gentleman gave a tight smile.
“That is my assumption as well, Inspector.” He blinked, then reached up to press a thumb to his brow before gazing at Gideon again.
“To be honest, my brother and I never discussed such matters. Which only now, in retrospect, I regret and realize was a grave mistake, especially considering Lucy.”
“Is there reason for concern regarding the solvency of your brother’s finances?”
Pennington pursed his lips. “Not according to these ledgers, but as I said, he was not forthcoming about such details with me. He never seemed to be in need of funds. However, I know he was quite keen to obtain Miss Beecham’s dowry.
At least while he planned to marry her, but then he was also willing to break that engagement, wasn’t he? ”
“Did the two of you ever argue about money?”
Lance Pennington seemed more subdued than the day he’d met him.
Rather than gesticulate or modulate his tone, he closed his eyes a moment.
When he opened them, he said, “The only time he spoke to me about money was to urge me to earn more of my own.” He sighed.
“But now I will merely be grateful if I can afford to keep the servants and care for Lucy.”
“She will remain your ward until her majority?” Gideon asked, recalling her age of nineteen and that she would still fall within the realm of guardianship.
“For two more years, yes. And when she does, I wish to ensure that I can provide for her. I would like to be able to offer a dowry as she’s keen to marry.”
Gideon didn’t need to review his notes to recall that it was a point of conflict between Miss Faraday and her late uncle. “A gentleman your brother would not give his blessing to, if I recall.”
Another tight smile and a sigh that sounded as fatigued as the man handsome younger man looked.
“My brother would have found fault with anyone. He was very protective of Lucy. We both are, but, of course, they resided together here, and I was elsewhere. I think they grew close in the years since she came into the household.”
That seemed to be something that bothered him, but he covered it, yet again, with a half-smile.
“You've met the gentleman, Mr. Worthington? And do you approve of him?”
“I do. He seems intelligent, congenial, and completely infatuated with Lucy. I believe he can provide a decent life for her. Perhaps not the grand lifestyle my brother would have wished, but if it makes Lucy content, shouldn't that matter most?”
His voice had risen an octave, the strength of his feelings on the matter suddenly evident. “Forgive me, Inspector. I rattled on. You must have come for a reason.”
“I did, Mr. Pennington. I have a few additional questions. As I said at the outset of the investigation, new questions often arise as an investigation proceeds.”
As he spoke, Pennington eyed a cart topped with decanters of liquor. “Would you care for a drink, Inspector?”
“No. Not while I am on police business.”
Pennington nodded. “I have been trying to cut back on imbibing. Percy was quite fond of spirits, and they never did him much good.”
“Why would you say that, Mr. Pennington?” Gideon had heard little lauding of Pennington’s character from anyone. The man seemed to strike everyone as difficult. He was curious how alcohol might have made his disposition worse.
Pennington rose from his chair and poured himself a single finger of amber liquor.
“He did not believe in being temperate.” He lifted the cut-crystal glass as he sat back down, as if to display that he was, in fact, capable of self-control.
“He drank to excess and…what is it they say? Spirits loosen the tongue, and that was certainly the case with my brother.”