Page 20 of A Measure of Menace

“Not if the police keep questioning me,” Lord Clifford returned. “I have aged a decade in the last few days.”

“Nonsense, you look fit to me,” Cynthia said. “Is that all, Constable? My father should rest.”

“Of course.” Constable Wallace came politely to his feet as Cynthia tugged Lord Clifford up with her. Mr. Thanos, Daniel, and I quickly joined them.

Cynthia bade us a cordial good night, though Lord Clifford only nodded absently. I did see as he passed me that Lord Clifford was indeed exhausted. His face was lined, his eyes red-rimmed.

He was a man beaten. While his current predicament was his own fault, I felt great compassion for Cynthia’s father.

Mr. Thanos followed them out, but Constable Wallace stopped me before I could depart.

“What time did his lordship arrive here, Mrs. Holloway? The police interviewed him at his club much of the day on Monday, and he stayed there that night. The next afternoon, he took his bag and climbed into a cab, but his whereabouts after that were unknown.”

Sergeant Scott had had the earl followed, Wallace meant, but his men had lost sight of him.

“About five o’clock that evening,” I said coolly. “Lord Clifford is welcome in the house anytime.”

“If that is so, why did he not come here upon his arrival?” Wallace asked. “Why stay at his club?”

So he could help Mr. Jacoby fleece a man without anyone in this household being the wiser, I was certain, but I could not say this to the constable.

“The family is away, and he likely believed the house was shut up,” I offered. “I’m sure that once Lord Clifford realized the staff was still here, he decided to change his lodgings for a more comfortable bed and my meals.”

Wallace wrote down my words. “Any idea why he’d taken a loan from a moneylender like Mobley?” He included Daniel in the question. “A man would have to be desperate to seek out Mobley, who had a rotten reputation. Even other moneylenders didn’t like him.”

“He must have had good reason,” I said. “Lord Clifford might be an earl, but as he indicated, the estate does not have much ready money. He could have wanted to make improvements to the property, or to fix houses of his tenants. Being a landlord is quite expensive.”

Daniel kept his expression neutral as I rattled out this explanation. It didn’t satisfy Wallace, I saw from his expression, but he made a few more notes and closed his book, sliding it and the pencil into his pocket.

Wallace thanked us before he took his leave. I admired him for being so polite—many policemen were unctuous to those of the higher classes and uncommonly rude to people like Daniel and me. Wallace was even-handed, neither overly sycophantic nor overly discourteous.

Mr. Davis appeared as soon as we exited the dining room to usher Wallace to the front door. He was still disapproving—a constable should come and go below stairs, but it seemed silly to drag him all the way down and out through the kitchen when the front door was steps away.

Mr. Davis glowered at Daniel, as though wondering if Daniel would be impertinent enough to use the front entrance. When I led Daniel toward the backstairs instead, Mr. Davis stalked into the dining room, signaling the footman in the vestibule to join him.

Mr. Thanos was nowhere in sight. I assumed he’d gone to assist Cynthia with Lord Clifford. Mr. Davis would see him out when he descended.

Daniel and I made our way to the kitchen, where Tess was cleaning up from supper. We could not discuss much while the staff was about, and Daniel departed, saying he had things errands to do. After a whispered promise that he’d return later, he went out into the night.

That left me at the kitchen table making my own notes about what Lord Clifford had told us, before I helped Tess with the final cleaning of the day.

By the time Daniel returned to the darkened and quiet house, I’d made lists in my notebook, divided by solid lines, of where each person involved in this case had been at the time in question—as far as I knew—and why they’d possibly murdered Mr. Mobley.

There were several names, and I could not decide which was the culprit.

“Tomorrow is my day out,” I told Daniel as I brought some leftover hash to serve him. I’d held back plenty of gravy as well, which I poured over the plate after he sat down.

“Thursday,” Daniel said as he inhaled a mouthful. “I know.”

“I wish to spend it with Grace,” I said.

Daniel quirked a brow at me. “Again, I know.”

“I also believe you or I should speak to Mr. Jacoby, Mr. Dougherty, Mobley’s partner if he is back in London, and also any gentlemen who share Lord Clifford’s club. Members, I mean, not the staff. Can you arrange it?”

Chapter 9

Daniel was nonplussed by my demands but not very surprised.

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