A Particular Eye for Villainy: (Inspector Ben Ross 4) (26 page)

Elizabeth Martin Ross

THE FOLLOWING morning I received a short note, posted early the evening before across town. It was from Flora Tapley.

Dear Mrs Ross,

I hope you will forgive my troubling you. I wonder if it is possible for you to meet me in the park in Bryanston Square, where we met before? I should very much like to speak to you.

Again, I apologise for presuming on your kindness. But I should be most grateful.

Yours sincerely,

Flora Tapley

Ben had left for the Yard. Probably neither he nor Dunn would approve my taking further active interest, but Flora’s request was a personal one. The poor child was clearly worried and not surprisingly!

We set out, Bessie and I. Bessie had assumed she would be coming along, too, and wouldn’t be dissuaded.

‘It’s a very funny business, missus. You need someone to look out for you. At least I’ll know where you are and what you’re doing. If anything horrible happens, I’ll be able to tell the inspector about it.’

‘Nothing horrible is going to happen, Bessie!’

Bessie’s small face contorted in a knowing sneer that added nothing to her already plain looks. ‘I don’t suppose as poor old Mr Tapley thought anything horrible was going to happen to him, not living with a respectable Quaker lady like Mrs Jameson. But he got his head bashed in, didn’t he?’

‘No one is going to bash – to knock me on the head in Bryanston Square!’

‘Not while I’m there to watch out!’ declared Bessie triumphantly, bringing her argument full circle.

So we went together. Flora was already there, waiting on a bench. Just as Bessie guarded me, so the suspicious Biddy lurked in the background to watch over Flora. Bessie promptly descended on the maid and engaged her in conversation.

‘It is very kind of you to come, Mrs Ross,’ said Flora, rising to greet me. ‘I am taking up your time. The fact of the matter is, I have no one to talk to, no one except Aunt Maria; and I can’t unburden my heart to her as I feel I can to you. I hope I am not presuming?’ she concluded anxiously.

‘Let us sit down,’ I invited, ‘and you can tell me everything on your mind. Don’t worry about taking up my time. I can stay here as long as you like.’

I nodded. ‘Yes, she went to Scotland Yard and, I believe, showed her marriage certificate. I understand it’s being checked but the police think there is little doubt it’s genuine.’

‘Both Aunt Maria and Uncle Jonathan are in a dreadful state about it,’ Flora said wryly. ‘It is because my father left no valid will, you see. He had made a will, but when he remarried in France, it was automatically revoked and he didn’t make another.’ She paused. ‘We went, Aunt Maria and I, to a hotel yesterday afternoon to meet my stepmother.’

‘What did you think of her?’ I asked, rather tactlessly.

‘Aunt Maria disapproved of her. She said afterwards that Victorine, that is my stepmother’s name, is “vulgar”. When Aunt Maria says that of someone, they have no chance of ever winning her approval. She also told Uncle Jonathan that Victorine was “brazen”. Uncle Jonathan can hardly mention her name for rage.’

‘But you?’ I persisted. ‘What did you think, Miss Tapley? How did you judge her?’

Flora’s cheeks reddened. ‘You see, dear Mrs Ross, this is why I asked you to come. I can speak so frankly and honestly to you and I couldn’t speak so to the others. I didn’t find her vulgar or brazen. She appeared rather more collected than I fancy Aunt Maria and I had expected, but I found her rather dignified. To tell the truth, I felt sorry for her, for Victorine.’

I must have shown my astonishment. Flora put out a hand and laid it on my arm.

‘Perhaps that does not worry her so much, as it would worry you or me,’ I said with some asperity, ‘if it is true.’

‘Oh, it is true. Uncle Jonathan and Aunt Maria don’t like her. I think your husband and the other man, Superintendent Dunn, don’t like her much. The people in the hotel don’t like her. I could tell that from the way they looked at her. Think how awful it must be not to have a single friend in a strange city.’

‘My dear Miss Tapley,’ I said firmly. ‘You are probably right. Being generally disliked must make some difficulty for Mrs Victorine Tapley socially. But it is her difficulty and not yours, do you understand? You have a very kind heart. Don’t let it mislead you. You are not required to redress the balance all by yourself.’

‘You see?’ said Flora with a sad smile. ‘Even you don’t like her, and I do not believe you have met her.’

This was said with such a childlike spontaneity that the words contained no sarcasm.

‘We don’t know she is not a nice person,’ objected Flora. ‘She told us how she nursed my father when he was ill. He became very muddled after his illness, she said, and suspected everyone of plotting against him. Then he disappeared from their house on the outskirts of Paris and she has been seeking him ever since. Only think how worried she must have been. Now she’s discovered he’s dead. It is so sad, Mrs Ross. How can we not pity her?’

What could I say? In the event, I said nothing, and that is very unlike me, as Ben will tell you.

Flora grew brisker and continued, in a businesslike way, ‘Arrangements are being made for my father’s funeral. The service will take place at St Marylebone parish church, at the top of the High Street, so I trust you will not go to St Mary’s Church in Wyndham Place in error, although that is nearer to our house. Uncle Jonathan and Aunt Maria were married at St Marylebone and we have always worshipped there. After the service we shall all go, with the coffin, to the Brookwood Necropolis railway station and travel by train out of London to Surrey as a funeral party. My father will be buried there, in the Necropolis burial ground. A plot is purchased and final arrangements are being made. I do hope that both you and Inspector Ross will come.’

‘Of course,’ I said.

‘I will see you are sent proper notice.’ Flora took my hand. ‘Dear Mrs Ross, thank you again for coming and listening to me. I do so value your support. I must go back to the house now. I will see you at the funeral.’

‘What do you make of all that?’ I asked Ben that evening.

He had listened carefully to what I’d had to say and his expression had grown steadily more sombre. ‘I don’t like it; I don’t like any of it.

‘See here, Lizzie, if Flora’s kind heart makes her generous towards her stepmother, Victorine will have sensed it instantly. From her point of view, she will already have won a valuable ally in the matter of the disputed estate. She will use any advantage ruthlessly. Jonathan Tapley is Flora’s guardian, of course, and Victorine won’t win him over. He is her implacable enemy.

‘Moreover, she faces another problem. Jonathan Tapley will use all his legal skills to contest her claim and if necessary spin things out through the courts. Legal processes are notoriously slow. It could be many months before the estate is settled, perhaps a year or more. It’s not unknown! If it’s true that Victorine has limited funds, then she does indeed find herself in a very difficult situation. Even to stay in that cheap hotel will be eating away at her reserves. She may find herself forced to return to France, at least for a while. If she does that, and the estate is not yet settled, she will be at a great disadvantage, having abandoned the field. Napoleon did the same at Waterloo, and look what that cost him! Who would represent Victorine in any court proceedings? She probably can’t afford a lawyer. Desperate situations sometimes lead to people taking desperate measures. Victorine is very clever and, frankly, as hard as nails. Of course I am worried on Flora’s account.’

‘By the way, the French Embassy has informed us that the marriage certificate appears to be completely in order. We have not yet heard from the French police.’

‘I have yet to meet Victorine,’ I said. ‘I’m looking forward to it, but it will have to be at the funeral.’

‘As to the funeral, I should attend anyway, as investigating officer. Now we’re invited to attend by the deceased’s daughter, I shall be spared having to lurk in the background, trying not to offend by my presence.’ Ben smiled grimly. ‘As for Victorine Guillaume Tapley, well, I have not yet played all my cards.’

Inspector Benjamin Ross

‘And this chap, Mas,’ Morris went on, ‘he could either have stayed in a private house or, most likely, some sort of bed and breakfast establishment, a rooming house, or a public house with a bed or two to rent. There are hundreds of them, sir, in London. We’d need a dozen men to go round them all and take probably over a week about it. Even then, if Mas paid the owners a couple of guineas to deny he’d ever been there, they’d be happy to oblige.’

‘So, what sort of a man was he, Morris?’ I asked.

‘One who was up to no good,’ opined Morris. ‘That’s my view of it, sir. But, there again, he might be what they call eccentric, or just very thrifty. But my best bet would be, he don’t want to be noticed.’

The following afternoon I was able to set in motion, with Dunn, a little plan I had hatched. I was confident of its success but knew I’d look a fool if it failed, and the best-laid plans, as the poet wrote, can go so very wrong. I know he wrote something Scottish, but I cannot quite recall what it was. I should ask Lizzie. She would know the reference. At any rate, he was right.

Accordingly, a few minutes before two, I was waiting nervously with the superintendent. A thump of boots announced Constable Biddle who appeared, red faced, to tell us, ‘The lady’s on her way up, Mr Ross, sir – and Mr Dunn, sir!’

Perhaps reflecting he had got the names in the wrong order of seniority, Biddle’s face grew even redder.

‘Yes, yes! Get yourself out of sight, boy!’ snapped Dunn.

Biddle vanished. He had barely disappeared when a lighter footstep heralded our lady visitor. We could see her, through the open door of Dunn’s office, coming along the corridor towards us, clad in her mourning attire. She had just passed by the open door of my office when a voice from within that room boomed, ‘Bless my soul! If it isn’t Miss Guillaume. A great pleasure to see you again, mademoiselle, and a great surprise!’

Victorine gasped and spun round as a gentleman in a tweed suit emerged from my office, hat in hand, and bowed to her in a military manner.

‘Major Griffiths, ma’am, if you remember me?’ he identified himself. ‘You called at my home, The Old Hall near Harrogate, together with your brother, some time towards the end of last year.’

She may have been taken by surprise, but she was aware that Dunn and I listened from his office and she was not so foolish as to deny it. I had to admire the quickness with which she rallied.

‘Indeed I do, Major! May I ask what brings you here?’

‘Well, it’s all rather unexpected for me, too,’ returned the major cheerfully, ‘I admit I seldom come to London these days. The fact of the matter is, I have travelled down this morning to attend the funeral of my landlord, Mr Thomas Tapley, later in the week. I mean also to spend a few days looking out my old haunts. I never knew Tapley personally but I have lived in his house for a number of years. All my household staff know of the family. It seems right to show my face, pay my respects. Poor Tapley was murdered, you know. That is why I am here at the Yard, asking how the investigation progresses.’ Griffiths leaned towards her and added in a confidential tone, ‘And I don’t mind telling you, my dear Miss Guillaume, that I was also dashed interested to see the famous Scotland Yard, what?’

Well done, Major! I thought as I walked down the corridor to join them.

‘Ah, madame!’ I greeted her. ‘So you know Major Griffiths? This lady, Major, is the widow of your landlord.’

‘Is she, b’gad?’ replied the major, frowning. ‘You didn’t make yourself known as such, ma’am, when you called on me with your brother. I feel I was remiss in not offering you more hospitality at the time. I should have done, had I known.’

‘You were quite hospitable enough, thank you, Major Griffiths,’ said Victorine icily. ‘Inspector Ross, I understand I have an appointment with Superintendent Dunn. Please excuse me, Major Griffiths.’

‘Delighted to see you again, ma’am, delighted,’ he said.

Clearly Victorine was not delighted, but she swept past him and into Dunn’s office.