A Measure of Menace (Kat Holloway Mysteries #7.5)

Chapter 11

“ B ut does that make the pair of them murderers?” Mr. Thanos asked when Lady Cynthia and I had returned to the housekeeper’s parlor.

Lord Clifford, after my revelation, had still been tired but less sorrowful. He’d uttered many profanities when I’d finished my announcement, and the defiant glitter had returned to his eyes.

“I’m not certain,” I said to Mr. Thanos now. “But it is worth Constable Wallace or Sergeant Scott finding out, I think. This is my reasoning: Mr. Jacoby knew that Lord Clifford liked to fancy himself a clever confidence trickster. They’d done a minor swindle or two together before Lord Clifford became an earl. Perhaps Mr. Jacoby thought Lord Clifford had come into money when he inherited the title, as so many believe those of the peerage are showered in riches.”

Cynthia snorted a laugh. “More fool they. Some of the high and mighty are swimming in cash, but most of Papa’s money is tied to the land. My father is correct when he complains that keeping up the house is beggaring him. He also has to repair the tenants’ homes and pay the staff, when crops or other products might not bring in the sums they used to.”

“Men like Mr. Jacoby might not realize this,” I said. “They see the magnificent houses built in another age and have no idea how costly it is to maintain the drains or keep the foundations from falling to bits. Mr. Jacoby decides that he can skim some cash from Lord Clifford by making him believe they will be cheating a conceited but wealthy middle-class man, Mr. Dougherty.”

“Who actually was in it with Mr. Jacoby,” Cynthia said. “I begin to see. They would take Papa’s ten thousand in cash and give it to Mr. Dougherty, pretending that Mr. Dougherty’s ten-thousand guinea stake had doubled. But in reality, Papa lost ten thousand pounds—fifteen with the interest Mr. Mobley demanded. Messieurs Jacoby and Dougherty split Papa’s money, making them five thousand each. An easy day’s work.”

“Lord Clifford confirmed that Mr. Jacoby sent him to Mr. Mobley,” I told Daniel and Mr. Thanos. “Lord Clifford confessed he could not produce ten thousand from his pocket, but he very much wanted to fleece Mr. Dougherty. Mr. Dougherty was quite wealthy, Mr. Jacoby told him, and they stood to make fifty thousand or more each off him. Lord Clifford could easily raise the sum of ten thousand from the moneylender and pay him back with what they got out of Mr. Dougherty. So, Lord Clifford trotted off and borrowed the money.”

Cynthia shook her head. “Cruel of them. Papa has always believed he was so clever, but sometimes, he’s just daft.”

“Mr. Jacoby played on his vanity,” I continued. “When I realized it was Mr. Dougherty we saw coming out of Mr. Jacoby’s offices, it made me wonder two things. First, why was he visiting Mr. Jacoby again when he’d already taken the money and departed? Second, why did Mr. Jacoby believe that so stingy a man would be a good mark for such a large swindle? Lord Clifford described Mr. Dougherty as extremely tight-fisted, and Daniel and I witnessed for ourselves how mean he was.” I was still indignant about how he’d behaved toward Grace. “Someone like that would be very careful about letting ten thousand guineas out of their sight. But if Mr. Dougherty knew he didn’t have to truly pay over anything, and that he’d be getting Lord Clifford’s guineas, he’d have gone along with such a scheme. He wouldn’t be out any money at all, only pretend to be.”

Daniel nodded. “It also explains why Jacoby jumped like a rabbit when he saw you, Kat. He must have worried that you’d returned to pry or to fetch a constable to question him.”

“A constable should truly visit both of these gentlemen,” I said. “Perhaps Mr. Dougherty and Mr. Jacoby worried that Mobley, who might have been in on the ruse, would tell Lord Clifford the truth. When they realized Lord Clifford was truly a bankrupt and couldn’t pay back Mobley, a dangerous man, they possibly feared that Mobley would try to pry the money out of them. If Lord Clifford was arrested for Mobley’s murder, so much the better.”

“Horrible men,” Cynthia said with adamance. “Papa has been through quite enough. He’s a fool, yes, but not wicked.”

Daniel rose from where he’d perched on the chair I’d used before. “I will consult with Chief Inspector Ferguson. I’ll tell him your theory, Kat, and what you said about the meeting at the club, Thanos, and suggest he send Constable Wallace to investigate both gentlemen. That young man wants a result so much he can taste it. A real result, not a dupe to take the blame.”

I’d also sensed that about Constable Wallace. While Sergeant Scott and even the chief inspector had been happy to intimidate Lord Clifford, Wallace had been gentle with him, only interested in finding out what had truly happened.

Daniel came to me and kissed me on the lips, right in front of Lady Cynthia and Mr. Thanos, neither of whom bothered to look away.

“I’ll go at once,” Daniel said. “I’ll likely catch one of the detectives even this late but I’ll leave a message if nothing else.”

“Go with him, Thanos,” Cynthia said abruptly, wiping off the smile she’d assumed when Daniel had kissed me. “I’d feel better knowing neither of you were wandering about by yourselves, in case these two gents start worrying about what you know. Thanos’s friends might let on to Dougherty that he’d been asking questions, and both Jacoby and Dougherty saw you today, McAdam.”

Cynthia’s qualms mirrored mine. “Yes,” I agreed. “Go straight to Scotland Yard and then return home and bar your doors.”

“Jacoby and Dougherty saw you too,” Daniel reminded me. He’d remained close, which was most distracting.

“We’ll be safe here,” Cynthia assured him. “I’ll have Davis bolt all the doors and check that the windows are locked. My father won’t stray a step, even if I have to sit on him.”

Mr. Thanos was obviously reluctant to leave Cynthia alone with only her father and our servants for protection, though I could have told him that our footmen were quite robust. But Mr. Thanos could hardly stay the night without damage to Cynthia’s reputation, even if we maintained that he was the guest of Lord Clifford. Mrs. Bywater would certainly be incensed when she learned of it.

Mr. Thanos seemed to understand. He pressed Cynthia’s hand as he left her, not going as far as Daniel had with a kiss. Mr. Thanos nodded to me, then followed Daniel out.

They left through the kitchen, sending a chill draft down the hall as they departed.

“Very clever, Mrs. H.,” Cynthia said. She helped herself to sherry that Mrs. Redfern always kept in a decanter on the side table. “Those two swindling chaps will regret that they tried to cheat my father.”

“It is an idea only. We will know if I am right when the gentlemen are questioned.” I let out a breath, uncertain again. “For now, we will have Mr. Davis bolt the doors as you suggested. Then you ought to go to bed yourself. You are as tired as your father.”

Cynthia downed the sherry and made a face—she preferred brandy or whiskey. “I admit it is a trial looking after him. But Mama would be devastated if anything happened to the old idiot. She’s already been through quite enough.”

I went to her and dared lay a hand on her slim shoulder. “I am so sorry, my friend. Your father has been blaming himself not only for losing the money but for what happened to your brother. He needs kindness at the moment, not scolding.”

Cynthia thunked down the glass, but she didn’t shrug me off. “He always needs scolding, Mrs. H. For his own good.” She shook her head. “I know he blames himself about my brother, but he’s wrong. Reggie never would have lasted long, in any case. He’d become almost frantically drunk and a danger to everyone around him, including his own family. He nearly shot me and Emily once—by mistake, he babbled later. He’d thought we were ruffians coming to murder him. When he came out of his stupor, he’d sink into a lake of remorse and be inconsolable. Everything he did was done to the extreme. I’ve come to terms with the fact that it was only a matter of time before we lost him completely, whether he topped himself or someone else did it for him.” She sniffled as she finished. “Damned sherry always makes my nose run.”

“At one time, you feared you’d be like him,” I reminded her gently. She’d confessed this to me one cold night, frightening me out of my wits.

Cynthia nodded, her eyes moist. “I know. Because I am also extreme, aren’t I? Putting on trousers and following Bobby and my friends to gentlemen’s gaming rooms, daring anyone to catch on.” She sent me a tremulous smile. “But you talked sense into me that night, Mrs. H., never worry. Besides, Thanos is a decent chap, and I don’t want to frighten him off.”

“I don’t believe you will.” I returned the smile and gave her another pat. “Now off to bed with you.”

Cynthia sketched me a salute, her confidence returning. “Aye-aye, Mrs. H.”

Once she’d tramped upstairs, I returned to the kitchen and fixed a tray of tea with some leftover currant scones, a large pot of jam, and another of lemon curd. I carried the tray upstairs myself, in time to see Mr. Davis shoot the heavy bolt across the front door.

“Just popping this up to his lordship,” I explained.

Mr. Davis nodded without answering and moved to check the windows of the drawing room.

Lord Clifford was still awake and dressed, answering the door I tapped on. His eyes lit when he saw the scones and tea, which was not unexpected. There wasn’t much sadness that current scones, lemon curd, and jam could not comfort.

He stepped aside so I could enter. “Mrs. Holloway, how good of you.”

I set the tray on a table and poured out a cup of steaming tea with a dollop of cream. “You get this inside you, your lordship, and take yourself to bed. I’ll have Lady Cynthia do the same.”

“Cynthia.” Lord Clifford’s shoulders drooped as he lifted the cup. “She will be happy to see the back of me. I hardly blame her.”

It was not my place to offer advice to an earl about his family. But people are people, whether they are earls or unhappy queens or match sellers in the gutter. They live and love, worry about their children, and try to steer their way through this life the best they can.

“Lady Cynthia cares for you very much,” I said. “If she did not, she’d hardly rush to London to make certain you were well.”

“Huh.” Lord Clifford took another sip of tea. “She knows what a reprobate I am.” He lowered the cup and looked directly at me. “It is a hard thing, Mrs. Holloway, to lose a child. The Lord not only took my son from me, but my daughter. He is either very cruel or does not exist.”

My own theology was a bit shaky, so I did not try to relieve him with platitudes from Sunday pulpits. “You have another daughter, who, as I say, loves you. She only wants your affection and understanding in return.”

Lord Clifford regarded me another moment, then raised his cup again. “You are very astute, Mrs. Holloway.” He managed a shaky smile. “And those scones look delicious. Send Cynthia in here—I will share them with her.”

I silently slid out a clean cup I’d tucked into my apron pocket and set it on the tray.

“Right way, your lordship.”

I left him regarding me in both bewilderment and amusement. I delivered the message to Cynthia and returned to the kitchen, satisfied that I had done my best.

In the morning, I took up my basket, told Tess I was going out for fresh vegetables for the day, and headed for Covent Garden.

The market was located conveniently near the Strand, so after I found my produce, I popped along to Mr. Mobley’s office and had a word with his partner. Mr. Parkin was surprisingly courteous and chatty, with no sign of any ruffians nearby. Next, I took a chance and knocked on the door of Mobley’s neighbor, the one who’d found his body.

Mr. Ogden, the man of business, was rushed and distracted, but he answered my questions readily enough.

From there it was another short walk to Southampton Street, where Daniel lodged. I reached the tall brick house quickly, so eager was I to tell him what I’d learned.

Daniel, unfortunately, was out. His landlady, Mrs. Williams, knew me, and after we had a brief chat, I decided to wait for him. I went upstairs to Daniel’s rooms that I’d made more comfortable by adding a cushion here, a colorful picture from a secondhand shop there.

It was as I impatiently paced Daniel’s front chamber that Mr. Mobley’s killer found me.