Page 15 of Dead Beside the Thames
Stokes and Barnaby waited in the recess of the deep porch, and neither was surprised when, only a handful of minutes later, a stout man still tugging the club’s livery into place hurried out and presented himself. “Jenkinson, evening porter, sirs. How can I help?”
It was obvious that the news of Stokes’s earlier visit had done the rounds of the club’s staff, and Jenkinson was only too thrilled to have his moment in the limelight.
Barnaby knew what Stokes needed to know, and in short order, Jenkinson confirmed that he had been the porter on duty between eight in the evening and two o’clock in the morning the previous Saturday into Sunday. “It’s a prime time for tips, you know, when I hail carriages and help gentlemen who are a bit wobbly-like into them.”
“So,” Barnaby said, “on the Saturday night just past, you were in your cubicle when Viscount Sedbury entered the club and also when he left.”
“That’s correct,” Jenkinson replied. “He’s one as is hard to miss.”
“Indeed. Did he have his whip with him?” Barnaby asked.
Without hesitation, Jenkinson nodded. “Always carried that thing, but the committee decreed he couldn’t take it inside, so he always left it with the porter, and he left it with me on Saturday night.”
“Did he fetch it when he left?” Stokes asked.
“He did, indeed, sir.” Jenkinson preened. “Handed it to him myself.”
Stokes smiled faintly. “Excellent. And he walked off with it in his hand?”
“Well, as far as I could see.” Jenkinson frowned. “Which, I admit, is not all that far.” He brightened. “But he definitely had it in his hand when he stepped onto the pavement in front of the club.”
“Thank you,” Barnaby said. “That’s very clear. Did you happen to notice if he summoned a hackney or got into a carriage?”
“Not as I saw, sir,” Jenkinson replied. He shifted and pointed toward the street. “He walked out, stepped onto the pavement, and headed toward Pall Mall.”
“Definitely Pall Mall?” Stokes asked.
Jenkinson nodded. “Can see it now, in my mind’s eye. He definitely went that way.”
With all sincerity, they thanked Jenkinson and quit the porch.
They stepped into the weak, late-afternoon sunshine and halted.
“All right,” Stokes said. “So Sedbury left here carrying his favorite whip, and it’s possible that same whip was used to strangle him.”
“Assuming he still had it with him when he met his murderer,” Barnaby said, “that raises the question of who in their right mind would have taken on a brute like Sedbury.” He glanced at Stokes. “Sedbury wasn’t just large and extremely strong, he was also armed with his weapon of choice and known to be dangerous.”
Stokes grunted. “I’ve a feeling the whip is going to prove pivotal to solving this case.” He met Barnaby’s eyes. “Best we get on finding the damned thing.”
“And locating the murder site.” Barnaby glanced at the sky. “We’ve still got a few hours to set searches in motion.”
After a short discussion of plans, they hailed a hackney and rattled off eastward.
Stokes let Barnaby off at Holborn and continued on his way to the docks.
Left on the bustling pavement, Barnaby sank his hands into his pockets and looked around. At this time of day, he could usually count on finding one of his older, more experienced lads somewhere around there.
CHAPTER 4
Midmorning of the following day saw Penelope tugging on the bellpull that hung beside the front door of St. Ives House in Grosvenor Square.
The time was precisely correct for attending a fashionable at-home, and for Penelope, the venue offered the certain prospect of hosting all her “usual sources” gathered together under one roof. While there were doubtless many other tonnish at-homes occurring at that hour elsewhere in Mayfair, the Cynster ladies and their close connections who resided in London had long deemed Tuesday mornings as the time to congregate more or less en famille to exchange the latest gossip and rumors without the bother of wider society and concerns over who might overhear shared secrets.
For learning about the Hale family and Viscount Sedbury, Penelope knew she would not find a more useful group from whom to inquire.
Besides, she always enjoyed chatting with her favorite group of older ladies, and they, in turn, delighted in trolling their memories for snippets that would enlighten her.
After a minute, in response to her summons, the door swung open to reveal a rigidly proper butler.
