A Fatal Freedom (48 page)

‘Well, yes, except there could be a very good reason for not wanting their relationship to be known to any of the people at that tea party. Think of who was there: his sister-in-law, Rachel, and aunt-in-law. Mrs Trenchard, who has a wide circle of friends and moves in society.’

‘And that is a good reason not to let them know you have met an old friend?’

Ursula took a deep breath. When this theory had first occurred to her, she had dismissed it as too nonsensical. Trying to respond naturally to Mrs Bruton’s light chatter over lunch, though, she had found it coming back to her, and gradually it began to make sense. So much so that by the time the two of them were in the cab going to the menagerie, she could hardly behave in her normal manner. No doubt Mrs Bruton had noticed that as well.

‘Suppose,’ said Ursula slowly, ‘Joshua Peters and Mrs Bruton had once been married to each other and they had never been divorced. That would have made both their subsequent marriages bigamous and invalid.’

‘That’s your theory?’ Jackman sounded completely disbelieving.

Ursula hurried on: ‘When Mrs Maple first suggested that Mrs Bruton might like me to work for her, she told me how she had had a tragic early life. Her husband had gone abroad almost immediately after they married, leaving her with child. Then the baby had died in childbirth and shortly afterwards she had heard that her husband had died. Well, when Mr Bruton came along and offered her a second chance of happiness, she might well have thought that she was free to marry again.’

‘But didn’t have a death certificate to prove it?’

‘If the death had occurred abroad, perhaps one was too difficult to obtain, or perhaps she just didn’t think she needed one.’

‘And what about Peters? Didn’t he even think to enquire whether the wife he’d abandoned was still alive?’

‘Maybe he did and couldn’t find any trace of her, so assumed she was dead.’

‘But, wait a minute. How could Peters blackmail her? They were both in the same situation. Revealing hers would mean he had to reveal his.’

‘At the time of the tea party, he had nothing to lose. Alice had walked out on him, and they had no issue. Revealing that their marriage had been illegal was not going to do him any harm. Whereas Mrs Bruton …’

‘Was not entitled to any of the comforts her second marriage had brought her! Her wealth could save his company.’

‘Exactly!’ Ursula said with a touch of triumph. ‘There was a situation Peters could make money out of! If her stepson learned that her marriage with his father had not been legal, he would have stripped her of everything. I’ve met him and I have no doubt he’d do that.’

‘What about the property portfolio?’

‘Bought with money from sums her husband gave her to run the household on and provide her wardrobe. Wouldn’t they be held to belong rightly to her husband?’

Jackman gave a slow nod. ‘Leaving her with …?’

‘As far as I know – nothing.’

Ursula did not expect Jackman to accept her theory straight away. Not without testing it from every angle, which was what he now proceeded to do, probing all its different aspects.

‘You say Mrs Bruton from her hotel bedroom window could have seen Pond being ejected from
Maison Rose
and followed him. Had she ever met him before?’

‘I don’t know. But she would know it was Peters who was blackmailing her. After that tea party she would have got all his details out of Mrs Trenchard; with her inconsequential way of talking, Mrs Trenchard would not have noticed all she was giving away. I wouldn’t then put it past her to go down to Peters’ office in the docks to catch him unawares.’

‘In his offices?’ Jackman sounded disbelieving.

‘I don’t think so. With all the traffic, both human and vehicular, it would have been easy for her to wait in a hansom until he approached or left his office and encountered him that way. Albert could have come up while she was talking with him and she would have made sure she knew who he was. And she would never have forgotten that waistcoat.’

‘And you really think that all this time she has been enjoying a bigamous marriage? Do you have any proof?’

‘Thomas,’ she cried. ‘The only marriage certificate I’ve seen is the one for her union to Mr Bruton. It describes her state as ‘spinster’. She has never mentioned she had a husband before Mr Bruton, dead or alive. Nor has she mentioned an offspring that died in childbirth. She has never talked of cyanide or of working in a hospital. What I know about her background comes from Mrs Maple. Please, you either have to accept or reject this theory as I’ve presented it.’

He looked slightly amused. ‘Surely it is possible to question and look for further evidence? It’s certainly going to be needed if we are to pursue a case against her.’

Exhausted, Ursula threw up her hands. ‘At least admit that if my theory is right, Mrs Bruton would have known how fond Joshua Peters was of cherry liqueur chocolates!’

‘Yes, I’ll give you that. As far as Drummond is concerned, though, much will depend on how far Mrs Bruton is prepared to confess.’

‘Did I hear my name?’ The inspector appeared at the top of the caravan steps. ‘I have been told this is where to find Ursula Grandison and Thomas Jackman.’

‘You have it right. Good to see you, Drummond.’ Jackman rose and offered his hand. The inspector, curly bowler tilted back on his head, a paisley silk kerchief carelessly tied around his neck, his yellow waistcoat almost a match for his hair, ignored the hand and instead removed his hat and tucked it underneath his arm.

‘Now what’s this I hear about apprehending the killer of Peters and Pond? I warn you, I am in no mood to hear airy-fairy theories without hard, cold evidence.’

Ursula left it to Jackman to present the case against Mrs Bruton. He was concise and lucid. Drummond heard him in silence, looking searchingly at Ursula as the battle with the cyanide-loaded syringe was described. She had a distinct impression that he gave little credence to what he was being told.

‘Were there any witnesses to this encounter?’

‘As Mr Jackman said, the top rows of the auditorium were empty apart from us and there was too much going on in the ring with the lions for anyone to pay any attention to two women having a fight.’

‘Hmm. You have this syringe?

Jackman handed over Mrs Bruton’s bag.

‘And this woman is being held under lock and key? Then let’s see what she has to say for herself.’

‘She may not have recovered consciousness yet,’ said Ursula.

‘Let us find out.’

Jackman, Drummond and Ursula, followed by two large, uniformed policemen, went over to the van in which Mrs Bruton was being held.

Jackman unlocked the door and opened it. Mrs Bruton was revealed sitting neatly on a pile of hay. Nobody looking less like a murderer than this calm, well-dressed figure could be imagined.

‘Oh,’ she said, looking up. ‘I am so pleased to see you. I have been wondering what I am doing here. Why, there are policemen! has something happened?’ So innocent she sounded!

‘Madam,’ said Inspector Drummond. ‘You are being accused of assaulting Miss Grandison here, indeed of attempting to murder her with a syringe of cyanide.’

Mrs Bruton looked astonished. ‘Murder? Cyanide? Ursula, dearest, you cannot imagine I would want to do you any harm?’

‘We have the syringe here in your handbag, together with the dog whistle you used to upset the lions,’ Jackman said.

‘Upset lions? Oh, dear, I would never want to do that. I do have a dog whistle, I kept it by me to remember my rascally Charlie, who I adored. I do sometimes carry it in my handbag.’ Her face wore a sad, contemplative look; the look of a woman who had deeply loved her dog. ‘As for a syringe, I know nothing about that. If there is such an item in my bag, it must have been put there without my knowledge.’

‘I can show you my bruises,’ Ursula said hopelessly. She could see that the inspector was very taken with this quietly spoken, well-behaved woman. Then she remembered a detail that might support her version of events.

‘Inspector, I think you can see that Mrs Bruton’s jacket is torn. That happened while she was trying to inject me with cyanide. The material caught on a nail.’

Mrs Bruton looked at the rip. ‘Oh, dear, it’s one of my favourites. Do you know, I don’t remember how it happened! In fact, I don’t remember anything from the moment I bought our tickets. Did you give me a draught of something, Ursula? Why, no, I think you, or someone, hit me with something very hard. There is an awful lump on my skull.’ She felt the side of her head with a graceful gesture.

‘Do you need medical attention?’ asked Drummond.

‘I think it would be as well. I might be suffering concussion. I know that can be serious. But what are you trying to accuse me of?’

‘Murder,’ said Jackman grimly.

Mrs Bruton gave a little screech, ‘Murder? You can’t be serious? Do you have witnesses?’

Inspector Drummond looked from Jackman to Ursula. Neither said anything.

‘You see!’ Mrs Bruton said simply. ‘Can you really arrest me on the word of two persons who seem to have very little credibility? I am so disappointed in Miss Grandison. I shall have to check all my records most carefully now in case she has interfered with them.’

Ursula felt a slow burning anger gather in her. Surely the woman could not get away with this attitude? Surely the inspector would not believe that Jackman could have conjured up a syringe full of cyanide and deliberately put it in Mrs Bruton’s handbag?

‘I saw what happened.’

Ursula turned; Millie was standing behind them.

‘I was on duty in the circus and I caught sight of these two women sitting right at the top, in the empty seating. Well, it seemed strange, so I looked more closely and saw this woman,’ she gestured towards Mrs Bruton, ‘get something out of her bag and put it to her mouth. Then the lions began to behave funny so I looked back at her and that’s when I saw her take what looked like a syringe out of her handbag, big bag it was, and a big syringe as well, and she tried to stick it into Miss Grandison, here. I knew it was Miss Grandison because I recognised her coat.’

Ursula gave silent thanks that she had lent the garment to the girl.

‘I was going to get someone to stop her,’ continued Millie, ‘only the audience was in such an uproar and we were all being told to help calm them because they were exciting the lions even more than what they already was.’ She looked apologetically at Ursula. ‘I reckoned you were able to take care of yourself. I did come looking for you after everything had quietened down, only you had both disappeared. I picked up your hat, though.’ She handed it over to Ursula, who took it and found herself speechless.

‘So, now you’ve got your witness,’ said Jackman to the inspector.

‘Surely you are not going to trust the word of a bitch like that?’ For the first time Mrs Bruton’s performance cracked.

‘You’ll all need to make statements,’ said Inspector Drummond. ‘And I’m taking you into custody, Mrs Burton, or whatever your name is. Officer, cuff her, take her to Marylebone station and put her in a cell.’

Mrs Bruton’s eyes narrowed. ‘You’ll regret this, inspector. I know people. Your career will be finished.’

‘We’ll see about that. I’ll be along shortly to question you. And, Jackman, you hand over that bag, together with its syringe, whistle and all. You and Miss Grandison can come with us to make your statements.’

‘Wouldn’t you prefer to do that in the morning rather than on Sunday evening?’ said Jackman.

‘Sunday? What’s a Sunday when you’re in His Majesty’s Metropolitan Police?’

Glad as she was to see Mrs Bruton being taken off to a police cell, Ursula was full of aches and pains. She needed rest, and for the first time since arriving in England six months earlier, she longed for a cup of a tea.

After they had signed their statements, Jackman insisted on escorting Ursula back to Mrs Maple’s boarding house. Not only that, he hailed a hansom cab and overrode her objections.

‘The case is solved. Drummond will have to release Alice now and my fee will be paid. Not that I have earned it, I shall insist it goes to you. After you receive it, you can repay me the cab fare.’

Ursula laughed. ‘Oh, Thomas, sometimes it’s difficult to take you seriously. You were the one who did all the leg work. The fee is yours.’

She couldn’t help thinking, though, that she now had no job. She stroked a sleeve of her new coat, blessed the fact that it hadn’t suffered in the fight with Mrs Bruton, but wished for a moment that its cost had been placed in a savings account.

‘For a moment in that van, I thought Mrs Bruton was going to carry all before her. I told you she was a quick thinker. She must have put that story together the moment she came round from your bash on her head. So simple and so effective. I could see Drummond absorbing it like turkey does gravy. It was only after Millie said her piece that he wavered.’

‘And so did she.’

‘Do you think Drummond will search Mrs Bruton’s luggage for the beret? Surely that will be another piece of evidence against her?’

Jackman put a hand on her shoulder. ‘He may well be able to wear her down under interrogation. Right at the end she seemed to be crumbling.’

‘But the journey to the police station will give her time to recover. I’m sorry I couldn’t produce more hard evidence.’

His hand pressed a little harder and she found it comforting. ‘No investigator could have had a better assistant. Without you, I would still be looking at Miss Rachel Fentiman for the part of murderer.’

‘Or even Millie?’ Ursula smiled at him. ‘Let’s face it, there wasn’t a great deal of evidence against anyone, was there?’

‘You know,’ Jackman said after a moment or two, ‘I’m thinking of asking you to work as an assistant to me. I can probably afford to pay you whatever you were earning with Mrs Bruton and maybe those
Maison Rose
people could keep you on. Maybe working together we could earn enough to afford a proper West End office.’

Before an astonished Ursula could respond, the cab arrived outside Mrs Maple’s and Jackman handed Ursula down and paid the fare.