Page 36 of Dead Beside the Thames
To Claudia, more interesting things—certainly much less worrying things.
But soon enough, they were back on the street, and with somewhat renewed and refreshed determination, they made for Jonathon’s door.
As they walked along Jermyn Street, Charlie glanced at her, then nodded to a door opposite. “I live there—number twelve—if you ever need to send for me.”
Immensely curious, she studied the building. It was of similar vintage to others in the street, neat and well-kept with a bow window on the first floor. “You lodge there.” It wasn’t a question, more her fixing the building in her mind.
“No,” Charlie said, surprising her. When she glanced his way, he explained, “Well, I did lodge there at first, but a few yearsback, I bought the whole house, and the couple who had owned it stayed on to do for me. I have the first-floor apartment and rent to two other gentlemen, who have the ground- and second-floor rooms.”
Claudia could only approve and had to own to being rather impressed. Not all gentlemen were so forward thinking as to seize opportunity when it beckoned.
They reached Jonathon’s lodgings, which were farther down the street. Charlie knocked, and when the door was opened by Jonathon’s man, Hobbs, Claudia smiled and asked, “Is my brother in, Hobbs?”
“No, my lady.” Hobbs looked rather surprised she’d asked. “Not at this hour.” A fact of which he knew she was well aware; gentlemen of Jonathon’s age did not languish through the afternoon in their rooms.
Claudia’s smile deepened. “In that case, Hobbs, do let us in.”
Knowing her quite well, Hobbs stood back and held the door wide.
As she breezed past, Claudia informed him, “This is Mr. Hastings. He’s assisting the family with this bother over Sedbury’s death.”
“Yes, my lady.” Hobbs ushered them into the drawing room, which, contrary to their earlier experience at Bryan’s lodgings, was reasonably neat.
Claudia sat, and Charlie claimed the armchair beside hers. She fixed Hobbs with a direct gaze. “Now, Hobbs, we are endeavoring to simplify matters for the police by learning of and verifying my brothers’ movements on the night Sedbury was killed.” She saw no sense in beating about the bush with Hobbs; he’d been with the family for decades.
Hobbs straightened to attention. “Yes, my lady.”
“So,” she inquired, “do you have any information as to where Jonathon went on Saturday, from evening to night to the time he returned here?”
“Also,” Charlie put in, “who he was with during those hours.”
Hobbs frowned slightly. “Well, Lord Jonathon was out the whole evening. As I understood it, he had a dinner with one group of friends, and after that, he was intending to attend some gathering, also with friends, although I can’t say if the dinner friends were also at the later event.”
Claudia wasn’t actually expecting an answer when she asked, “Do you have any idea who hosted either event?” but Hobbs surprised her.
“Actually, my lady, I suspect I can tell you that. If you and Mr. Hastings will wait a moment, I’ll retrieve the invitations. I cleared both from Lord Jonathon’s pocket, but I haven’t thrown them away as yet.”
Claudia beamed. “Bless you, Hobbs. Of course we’ll wait.”
Hobbs vanished, and they could hear him rustling around in the rear of the apartment, then he returned holding two ivory invitation cards. “These are the two events he attended on Saturday.” Hobbs handed Claudia the cards.
She took them, and Charlie leaned across to read over her shoulder. Claudia stated, “The dinner host was Peregrine Fitzwilliam, and the party later was thrown by Lord Satchwell.”
Charlie sat back. “I’m acquainted with both sufficiently well to ask what they recall of Jonathon that night. If they or others at the event can swear he was present and sufficiently in sight throughout the night, that will alibi him completely.” He glanced at the mantelpiece. The clock there showed it was just after three. “If we leave now”—he pushed to his feet—“with any luck, I should be able to catch both Fitzwilliam and Satchwell at Boodle’s.”
Claudia eagerly gave him her hand and allowed him to help her up. “Thank you. That will be such a relief.” She smiled at Hobbs and started for the door. “And thank you, too, Hobbs. Your help with the invitations will likely see your master cleared of all suspicion over Sedbury’s death.”
“Indeed, my lady. I’ll be most happy if that’s so.” Hobbs followed Claudia and Charlie from the room, then stepped ahead to open the front door for them.
Claudia swept out, and Charlie was about to follow when he paused, then turned to Hobbs and asked, “Hobbs, when was it that you noticed the scrape on Lord Jonathon’s face?”
Hobbs blinked in surprise, but answered readily. “Lord Jonathon often goes riding of a Sunday morning—he says it’s quiet then, with few others about. He enjoys a good gallop. Last Sunday morning, he came back with that wound. He said he’d run into a branch. Truth be told, I wasn’t all that surprised. He’d got to his bed only a few hours before and was barely compos mentis.”
“You’re sure he didn’t have the wound before he went riding?”
“Quite sure, sir. I would have noticed it while I was helping him dress.”
Charlie smiled in satisfaction and, with a nod to Hobbs, joined Claudia on the pavement. He met her relieved gaze. “So we have confirmation of Jonathon’s story of how he got that scrape, which is another point in his favor.”
