Infernal Vices (Resurrectionist #3)

CHAPTER 3

INTERROGATION

While the two constables went about their duties, Detective Inspector Dancer said he wanted to ask Troy some initial questions. He was about in my house, alone, for several minutes and then returned the parlour. He sat heavily in an armchair and let out a sigh, then gestured for me to take the settee opposite. My collar seemed too tight and I felt warm even though the parlour was frigidly cold.

“Very well,” I said and sat where directed. I needed to steel myself, to focus on my highest good, and protect my past and present lovers from suspicion.

“Mr. Hannan. I have questions for you regarding this inquiry and I’d be grateful if you would be as frank as possible. Your answers may well reveal the identity of this villain.”

“Are you not taking notes?” I queried, confused at seeing Dancer remain with his hands clasped across his stomach, those vulpine eyes affixed on me.

“Oh no. I’ve a mind like a steel trap.” He clapped his hands together for effect and made me twitch in my seat, and then he grinned at having startled me. “I enjoy puzzles,” Dancer continued, “and I remember everything. You never do know how the smallest details might just be the key to solving a case. I am most determined to finger this particular cracksman!”

Dancer appeared to be a worthy opponent for my brilliant Sebastian. And that realization was worrisome.

Dancer began his interrogation with a benign question. “How many people reside in this house?” I’d read Conan Doyle’s novels and noted how the detective in his books began by dissecting witnesses with easy questions first. Dancer was luring me into a false sense of security. But I would not be toyed with!

“Six. My housekeeper and two maids have rooms in the attic, my houseman’s quarters are in the basement, my valet has a room on the second floor, and my private rooms are on the first floor.”

“No Mrs. Hannan?” Quizzical eyes settled upon me and I gave the man a furious glare.

“No. And I don’t see what business that is of yours.” I snapped, regretting my harsh tone as the words left my lips. “I do not see how such an impertinent question could help to find the villain!” My gaze was affixed on Dancer’s eyes and I saw his mouth hitch at the corner. That outburst had done me no good at all. He was riling me and my sharp reaction was exactly what he’d wanted to achieve.

“Apologies, apologies,” Dancer raised his hands placatingly. “You are a…confirmed bachelor.” His eyes brightened full of curiosity.

I knew, oh I knew exactly what he was insinuating. “I have no wish to marry and I do not see what my lack of a wife has to do with apprehending a burglar!” I reiterated unable to stand his honeyed gaze upon me. I stood and moved to the mantle. Dancer remained silent and watchful. I pinched the bridge of my nose. This headache was getting worse.

“Forgive me. This has been quite the rude awakening and I have not yet had a bite of breakfast.” I turned and met his gaze offering him a wan smile.

Dancer was tapping a finger pensively on his lower lip, as if deep in thought. “I understand that such questioning can be trying. I won’t keep you too long.” He paused before saying, “I’d like to ascertain the facts. And the facts are that a crime occurred in your home, a considerable amount of silver was taken, and no one, apart from your valet, saw or heard a thing. The first imperative was to consider your Mr. Troy as the thief, and his story mere fiction.”

“No!” I turned from the mantle and glared daggers at the man. “That is outrageous! Mr. Troy has been with me for years. He is an exemplary servant and good, Christian man—”

Again, Dancer held his hands up to calm me.

“Atkins searched Troy’s room before I arrived and no silver was found.”

Damn the man, I’d sent him to the kitchen for tea, and yet he’d been poking around without my consent.

“I noticed his shoe size is also smaller than that of the thief, and so I’m mollified as to his part in this sorry tale. I do believe he happened upon the crime in progress as he initially attested.”

I relaxed a little at hearing that Troy was not considered to be involved in the thievery.

“My primary concern is to understand the thief’s motivation. What do you think that is, Mr. Hannan?”

“What do I think?” I exclaimed gruffly, “What do I think?” I repeated, unnerved by the twists and turns of Dancer’s questioning. “Clearly his motivation is the same as any other sneak-thief. He is in need of money and means to profit from the sale of my silver.” I was having trouble holding onto the reins of my temper with this impertinent man.

“Hmm, that is one motivation, but what about fear? Fear is also a potent motivator, is it not? A man living in fear can be persuaded to do the most ghastly things to rid himself of the anchor of that fear.”

“Indeed, fearful men are open to manipulation.”

“Yes, yes, that is a good way to phrase it, manipulation. I’ve also seen how the act itself, how the theft can be a warning to the victim. The blaggard has found entrance to the victim’s private sanctuary once, what’s to stop him doing so again?” Dancer said drolly.

“Detective Inspector Dancer, are you trying to vex me?” I demanded, appalled by such a notion.

“Forgive me; I have a tendency to speak my mind.” The man grinned then, grinned like a blasted Cheshire cat!

“I suggest you have the locks changed,” he continued conversationally.

“Do you have enemies, Mr. Hannan? Failed business pursuits, or pursuits of a more…intimate nature?” The way his gaze bored into me made my skin crawl.

“No, and I object to this line of questioning. I am growing tired of this interrogation while this heinous culprit is at large.”

“Very well. I shall…wrap things up. But there is something niggling at me.” Dancer paused, his right thumb and forefinger clutching his chin, his lips pouting in thought. He then said, “How did the thief get into your home? You see, we have a witness to his escape, and yet no evidence of how he got in. Isn’t that strange? There is no sign of damage on the window locks, or scuff marks on the wall outside. The front and back doors are sound.”

What a schoolboy error! Of course the thief would have to be inside my home to escape. Damn it! Sebastian and I had not thought this through. I would need to think on my feet, and think fast! “Is that so? What are you saying, detective? I’d be grateful if you would also be frank,” I replied dryly as if this questioning was tiresome.

Dancer spoke on with more venom in his tone. “What I’m saying is that, unless he had a key to let himself in, the thief was assisted by someone in this very household.”

I could feel the blood run from my face and an icy chill come upon me. I wiped a hand over my brow, “This is unconscionable!”

“I will speak with your Mr. Troy again, and then to the other members of your household,”

I was appalled that my servants were under suspicion when I knew for certain they were all innocent of any wrongdoing. I prided myself on being a good, kind employer. I paid well and even gave my servants time off for holy days. We were a family of sorts and there was no reason for any to betray me. I hoped Troy could hold his nerve.

“Detective Inspector Dancer. My servants are beyond reproach. I will vouch for each of them. They are trustworthy and loyal.”

Dancer’s tone was patronizing in the highest as he opined, “I can see you are god-fearing gentleman, Mr. Hannan, if not a tad na?ve.” I was aghast at hearing such impertinence from this stranger. I did not care if he was the son of a Duke, or the bally Queen of England, he was a guest in my home, and I demand to be treated with respect, but before I could object to the offensive statement, he held up a hand to still me.

“No offence intended; you understand. In my years with the Metropolitan Police I have seen the darkness of the world, Mr. Hannan, the belly of the beast, so to speak—skulduggery hiding beneath an innocent face,” he wheedled “You would be appalled by what the desperate and ungodly will do for a coin.” He leaned forward and fixed me in place with his amber gaze.

“What I learned very quickly is, where there’s money to be made there will always be a fellow who’ll smile politely…as he cuts your throat,” he said coldly, miming the throat slitting action across his own throat. “This cracksman could have killed your household in their beds, sir. Does that not worry you?”

I shuddered, and burning bile rose from my stomach and made me cough.

“Of course, it worries me!”

“I can feel it in my bones that someone in this household is in cahoots with the thief. I will find him, Mr. Hannan, you mark my words. I would very much like to show this thief the rope!”

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