Death in Bayswater Page 16

  Sarah signed ‘watch this one’ to Frances, but then she did this with most single male clients, it being her personal mission to ensure that Frances did not choose to marry the wrong man. Frances appeared to be brushing a stray hair from her forehead but was actually telling Sarah that her message was understood.

  ‘My main concern is my aunt’s happiness,’ continued Chandler, oblivious to the silent conversation, ‘and foiling the actions of a criminal. If it came to it I would be more than happy to see that the vegetarian society is recompensed.’

  The business was concluded, and before he departed Mr Chandler paid Frances an advance on her expenses and gave her the address of the lodging house where he could be contacted.

  The plate of buns was extracted from the drawer. ‘He’s a smooth one,’ said Sarah as they chewed thoughtfully. ‘I don’t know about him. Could be his foreign manners, could be something else.’

  ‘He has posed a difficult problem, something I have never solved before; how to discover a marriage which if it happened was so recent that it cannot yet be in the Somerset House registers, when we don’t know where it took place. I could put advertisements in the newspapers, of course, but I don’t wish to alert Mr Wheelock to my actions. Even the most discreet enquiries will, I fear, come to his notice.’

  ‘Was it a real wedding or a fake one?’ That’s the big question.’

  Frances finished her bun and dabbed crumbs from her lips with a napkin. ‘I think it was real. Wheelock knows the law all too well. Also, my observation has been that a man undertakes a false wedding when he only wishes to possess the woman’s person. It makes it easier to discard her.’ Sarah nodded sagely, since it fitted well with her general opinion of men, with the possible exception of Professor Pounder. ‘When he wants the woman’s money and land, especially if there is a great fortune involved, he proceeds differently. Wheelock will have a certificate hidden away somewhere that he can produce if he needs it. He must have shown it to his wife’s bankers to make sure that he was able to take control of her property, but even if they retained the details they would not show them to me. All they would require is sight of a valid certificate and Mrs Wheelock’s assurance that they were married.’

  Sarah refreshed the teapot while Frances remained deep in thought and ate another bun. ‘I can expect no information from either Mr or Mrs Wheelock. He is on his guard and she would not be friendly towards me in any case.’ Frances mused. The former Mrs Outram had once written to Frances offering what amounted to a bribe to change her testimony in some criminal proceedings against a young favourite of hers. The firm refusal had not been received well. ‘It must have been hard to make her agree to marry him in such a way that would not at once arouse suspicion. They would have had to use their real names. He dared not do otherwise. What story might the witnesses have to tell? Who gave away the bride and stood as groomsman? Did the clergyman or registrar not have doubts? Mr Rawsthorne has already told me he has found no record of the wedding in London and I must proceed on that basis. I can certainly see why they did not marry in Bayswater. The bride is too well known here, by name at least. It would have been the gossip of the tea tables in minutes.’

  ‘Unless he bribed or threatened those in the know.’

  ‘I suppose he might have done so. Although bribery is always a risk. A person willing to be bribed is not the most honest associate. Such a one has no sense of loyalty and thinks only of money – he or she will always be happy to accept a larger counter bribe. I notice incidentally that Mr Wheelock made no attempt to bribe Mr Rawsthorne – he must have known that he would not succeed. His ploy there was to conceal his intentions for as long as possible.’

  ‘Do you think Wheelock knew about Chandler before he married the old lady?’

  ‘I think he would have made it his business to know about any relatives who might object. He must have hoped that there would be none, but if he had learned of a great-nephew, finding out that the only relative resided in India was almost as good. It gave him time to marry before Mr Chandler could arrive in England. It is far harder to upset an existing marriage than prevent one taking place. And Mr Chandler, as he has admitted, is no expert on his aunt’s state of health and mind. Also any attempt he makes to invalidate the marriage will be countered by accusations that he does so only for financial motives.’

  ‘That might be true.’

  ‘It might, but that is not my concern. However avaricious he may prove to be, he is still entitled to inherit. You know my opinion of Mr Wheelock. If I can stop him swindling an elderly lady out of her fortune I will do so with great pleasure.’

  Sarah grinned. ‘The servants might know something. Of course we don’t know if he dismissed the old ones and brought in new after the wedding, or just frightened them into doing as he says.’

  ‘I suspect we will learn little from them if we make a direct enquiry, but I suggest that you find some way of befriending one of them when she goes out of the house. If she trusts you then she might be tempted to complain about her situation and her master, and then we may learn something. She might even know the date of the wedding, and if you can learn how long the couple were away from home that will at least suggest how far they travelled.’

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  It was ten days to the very hour of Jim Price’s execution. Frances, unmoved by the sight of breakfast, gazed in despair at the letter she was writing to the Chronicle on his behalf. She was repeating old words, old pleas, and was bitterly aware that she had nothing more to say; yet she had to go on. There were no new clues, and she had no idea where to look for them or if they even existed. Frustratingly she had still received no message in response to the information she had already passed on about Mr Gundry, and did not know if it was being examined, or given any weight.

  There was the usual litter of notes in the morning post, and it seemed that the rumour now pervading the neighbourhood was that the killer was a carpenter. Someone had even suggested that Jim Price committed all three murders, ignoring the fact that he had been in custody for two of them. Frances wondered if one of the letters came from the killer trying to divert attention from himself, and so wrapped them up and passed the bundle to the police.

  She also reflected if she was beginning to detect a new feeling in the air. Ten days had passed since the Norfolk Square murder. Despite all of Mr Candy’s efforts to ensure that Bayswater ladies had respectable escorts, Frances, as she peered out of the window, at what had so recently been a street almost deserted except for pressmen, was now starting to see a little of the normal traffic reassert itself. Once the morning fogs had cleared, the day promised fair and mild. It was dry underfoot, and ladies, often in pairs, but occasionally singly, strolled by. The fickle population was beginning to tire of the old excitement and was looking for something new, and, imagining that with the passage of time the danger was over, some were starting to relax their vigilance. Perhaps the murderer had moved away, perhaps, tormented by self-disgust, he had ended his life in some miserable place of filthy squalor, but in all probability, thought Frances, he was just biding his time, waiting for the next young woman to walk alone in the dark.

  One of her morning letters was different; a plea for an early interview from Mr Digby, the father of Mr Candy’s erstwhile betrothed. He was very insistent concerning the extreme urgency of the situation, and Frances responded with a note that he might call at his convenience. He arrived an hour later in a state of distraction.

  ‘Miss Doughty I am so very grateful that you have spared some of your time to see me,’ he gasped, ‘I know that you must be engaged on other matters of great moment at the present time.’

  Frances decided that it was useless to explain that she was not in hot pursuit of the Bayswater Face-slasher. She introduced Sarah, and offered her visitor a chair. He sat down quickly, eager to begin their conference. ‘Tell me how I may help you. Am I correct in guessing that this concerns your daughter?’

  ‘Oh who would be a father of a lov
ely yet wilful girl!’ he moaned. ‘Yes you are quite correct; it is Enid who troubles me. She is good and virtuous and the very best daughter a fond father could wish for, but she is susceptible in matters of the heart and will not be advised by me. If her dear mother were alive then perhaps it would be different, but that gentle guiding hand has been lost to us. You will recall, of course, that Enid is enamoured of that young dog Pargeter. No respectable family will admit him to court their daughters but I did not find out his true nature until it was too late. He means to secure her and then make me a beggar.’

  Frances was not entirely sure if Mr Digby was more concerned about his daughter or his ducats, and from Sarah’s gesture, neither was she. ‘But you have already stipulated that they might not marry until Mr Pargeter has both paid off his gambling debts and provided proof that he could support a wife, neither of which event seems probable.’

  ‘Yes, and Enid did appear to accept that, but she is nineteen and one of her bosom friends has just married at that age and she is starting to feel that it is time for her to do so too.’ Frances, aged twenty-one and with no prospect of marriage or any anxiety concerning that situation, simply nodded. ‘But the thing I am here to speak to you about is – well I received news this morning of a most dreadful tragedy. A cousin of Pargeter’s, a young man of the best reputation and recently engaged to be married, only twenty-four years of age, has been killed in a riding accident.’

  ‘That is a great tragedy indeed. And you are concerned that your daughter will fly to Pargeter’s side to comfort him?’

  ‘Oh, Pargeter cared nothing for his cousin, so he needs no comfort. No, it is far, far worse than that.’

  ‘It is?’

  ‘The cousin, being young and having no thought of death, had not made a will, and by some strange vagary in the family line, a substantial portion of his property goes to Pargeter. In fact if I had not known that Pargeter never rises from his bed before midday I would have suspected him of laming the horse, or laying a hidden rope to make it stumble. He is about to become very rich, although I doubt that the fortune will last long. Just long enough for him to persuade Enid that he is in a position to marry her and has overcome all my objections.’ He ground a fist into his palm. ‘What am I to do?’ he wailed.

  ‘Does Miss Digby know the news?’

  ‘No, not yet, and I intend to keep it from her as best I can, but it cannot be long before she is informed of the position. She will want to marry at once, but I know that Pargeter will soon squander every penny of his inheritance and be in debt again, and they are both well aware that I cannot stand by and see my dear girl starve. If they were married I would have to support them both, not to mention any family they will have, and settle the new debts that Pargeter will undoubtedly incur. I will be ruined!’ He thumped both elbows down on the table and pressed his fingers to his eyes.

  Frances pushed the water carafe and glass closer to the distraught man, and spoke to him in a calming way. ‘If, as you say, he gambles away what he has, then in six months he will be in debt again and under the agreement you have made with him he will once again be in no position to marry. Would your daughter be willing to wait six months for the wedding?’

  Digby shook his head, and Frances poured water for him. He tried to drink it with trembling hands that could barely hold the glass. ‘I hardly think she wants to wait six days! I suspect – I suspect very strongly that she has been meeting him in secret. I think she does so when she goes from the house with her maid or in the company of a friend. I think they exchange letters – the maid has been carrying love notes and helping make the assignations. I have questioned her but she denies it. I can’t very well lock Enid up, although it is tempting to do so, and if I try to impose a strict chaperone I am very afraid that she will simply up and run away with him, and then, of course, I shall have no choice but to agree to their marrying. She is very determined. It is hard for me, but I believe that if I appear to be lenient then I have the best chance of observing her.’

  ‘That is very wise. Now this is my suggestion. I will have your daughter and the maid watched and followed. My agents are very discreet and should be able to overhear any conversations. I also have a number of messenger boys in my pay. If one of them can earn Mr Pargeter’s trust, then he might be employed carrying messages and we would be able to examine them.’

  ‘Oh, that would be a great weight off my mind,’ said the overwrought father with an exhalation of relief, ‘yes please arrange to do so at once.’

  ‘Where can Mr Pargeter be found?’

  Digby gave a little scowl of distaste. ‘He lodges at the Piccadilly Club on Porchester Road. An ideal place for such a scoundrel. I assume he has been running up a bill on the strength of his family name. That is his usual way. I am only happy that they do not allow females in there. Gambling and pugilistic competitions yes, and a great deal of drink. Oh, don’t mistake me, I have never been there and do not intend to, but when I learned that this was where he lodged I made enquiries about the place and learned its nature. How that did not open my daughter’s eyes I simply do not know.’

  ‘I take it you do not have a portrait of Mr Pargeter?’

  ‘No, although I am sure if I was shameless enough to rifle though Enid’s trinkets I would find one. He is tall, with blond hair very much curled. Females seem to think him handsome.’

  ‘I am sure you have a portrait of your daughter.’

  Digby put his hand in his pocket and brought out a little card, which he glanced at fondly before handing it to Frances. The subject of the photograph was seated by a small table on which rested a vase of flowers. Perhaps the flowers were intended to enhance the beauty of the sitter, and imply by association the youth and freshness of the young girl. Miss Digby, however, was no delicate fragile maiden inviting pure and honourable homage. She was broad of shoulder, and generously rounded in form, and the glance with which she favoured the camera was more defiant than demure. Her features were plain but not devoid of interest. If it was possible to read character from a face, which many believed one could do, then she was not a young woman to be trifled with, or from whom a father might expect unhesitating obedience. There was a determined curve to her mouth and a tilt to the tip of her nose as if everything she saw about her was beneath her notice. She looked like a young woman who would enjoy assisting Sarah apprehend a malefactor.

  ‘If I may keep this, then I will show it to my agents who will see that she is observed.’

  ‘That may save her for a while, but there is something else I would like done, because simply preventing the marriage will not end the matter. Could you find some means of making her change her opinion of Pargeter? She is dazzled by his handsome features and good manners. His foolish escapades she finds amusing. How I wish she had never met him! How I wish she had married Mr Candy, who is a dull fellow but honest and worthy. I fear, however, I very much fear, that having enjoyed the attentions of a fellow like Pargeter, even if she was to give him up she will never settle for Candy.

  ‘But I do have a new hope for her. A young gentleman by the name of Berkeley, who is of very good family and would be an excellent match for Enid, has asked my permission to call on her. At present I doubt very much that she would receive him, but in time, she may. I think she might listen to you; I am sure you understand the female mind better than I.’

  If Frances understood anything, she suspected that Miss Digby desired the kind of excitement that could only be gained by association with a handsome rogue, an enterprise which, while it offered temporary diversion to an adventurous female, was doomed not to last and was in danger of ending badly.

  ‘Apart from his gambling is there anything else you know about Mr Pargeter which might change your daughter’s mind about him? I could have him watched for you.’

  ‘He has no brains to speak of and he flirts outrageously,’ said her client with obvious disgust.

  ‘Miss Digby may think she has brains enough for two and that the flirting will cea
se after marriage.’

  ‘You are right about the brains, but she is not worldly wise. I approve her innocence, of course, but she will not look to me for advice as she ought to.’

  ‘You mentioned Mr Pargeter’s escapades?’

  ‘Yes, he is a member of a club for young men with no sense. They call themselves the Bold Bloods. He may even be the founder. I think they meet at the Piccadilly Club, and dare each other to take risks, some of which are criminal. There have been shop windows broken by stones just lately which I am sure is their work. One of them actually jumped off a bridge!’ Digby sighed heavily. ‘I wish Pargeter would jump off a bridge! These japes are the subject of wagers. They have a secret sign which they chalk up on the wall beside their work if they have time, so they know it is one of their number who has committed the outrage.’

  ‘What does this mark resemble?’

  ‘Oh, I have never seen it. I think the police wash them off. Bayswater is in enough of a panic as it is.’

  When Mr Digby had wended his miserable way Sarah took a look at the picture of his daughter and laughed. ‘He’d best marry her off as soon as he can to the first halfway honest man who will have her. I’ve seen that one walking out with her maid and she fancies herself as a real attraction. Parades up and down the Grove in the latest fashions. Thinks all the young men are looking at her.’