Death by the Book (16 page)

C
harles Russ stopped at the door to the interrogation room and turned to Drew. “Would you like to come in with me? When Mrs. Montford rang me up to ask me to represent her son, she said you were acting on her behalf and were to have whatever cooperation I could give.”

“I don’t suppose she mentioned that Daniel and I haven’t exactly hit it off.”

“She did, as a matter of fact.” Russ smiled, and his thin, mustached face lost a bit of its hawkishness. “Never you mind that. I was in partnership with his father long enough to know young Daniel can be a bit of a hothead, but I can handle him. His father spoke highly of you, you know, and I wouldn’t mind having an extra set of eyes and ears in on our side.”

“I was thinking I’d just wait for you and see what you found out, but I’d much rather hear it firsthand. But you’re the solicitor. I’ll just do my best not to antagonize anyone.”

“Very good. Now we’ll see what’s what.”

At Russ’s knock, a man in a dark suit opened the door and
showed them inside. Birdsong and Daniel Montford were seated at a large table, which was the only furniture in the small, grim room.

“Ah, Detective Farthering, come in.” Birdsong indicated the man in the dark suit. “This is Sergeant McRae. I presume this is the solicitor we’ve been hearing so much about.”

Russ shook Birdsong’s hand. “I’m Charles Russ of Whyland, Montford, Clifton and Russ. I’ll be representing Mr. Montford.”

Daniel’s eyes flashed. “I told them I didn’t have to say anything unless you were present. And what’s
he
doing here?”

Despite his glare, Drew merely nodded and sat down.

Russ sat down, as well. “Your mother wants him here, Daniel, and so do I. Do try and behave yourself. Now, Inspector, what are the exact charges against my client?”

“It’s a bit premature for charges, Mr. Russ. As I told Mrs. Montford earlier this afternoon, we merely want to sort things out. No need for any unpleasantness, provided of course our questions are answered to our satisfaction.”

“I see. And just what questions do you have in hand?”

Birdsong consulted his notes. “When we spoke to her after her husband was murdered, Mrs. Montford said her son hadn’t left home the day of his father’s death, and Daniel here confirmed that. Now we have evidence that he was just round the corner from the scene of the murder, and that’s before
and
after the established time of death, and we’d like to know why he didn’t mention that to us in the first place.”

Daniel shook his head. “I told you—”

But Russ quickly lifted his hand to silence him. “How reliable is your evidence, Inspector? Perhaps your witness saw someone who only looked like Mr. Montford here.”

“He was identified by a waiter at Le Jardin d’Idylle Restaurant
at half past twelve that day, and by a cab driver at the corner of Jewry and St. George’s Street at a little after two. The driver claims he seemed agitated at the time. It’s rather unlikely that both would be mistaken. So, Mr. Montford, I would like to ask you again. Where were you on the afternoon of your father’s murder?”

Sneering at the inspector, Daniel remained silent.

“Young man,” Birdsong said, raising his voice a little, “if you don’t give us a reasonable explanation for why you were seen near the Empire Hotel that day, we’ll have no alternative but to assume you don’t have one.”

“All right, Inspector. You want to know why I was seen there that day? I was seen there because that’s where I was.”

“And what were you doing there?”

“I was eating lunch, and then I was riding in a taxicab, neither of which is against the law.”

“Were you alone?”

“I presume your network of spies has already answered that one for you.”

“I’d rather you told me yourself.”

“Very well, I wasn’t alone. There was an entire restaurant full of people and later there was the cabman.”

The sergeant huffed his impatience, while Birdsong let out a sigh.

“How about we save the clever talk for your university friends, shall we, Mr. Montford? Were you in the company of someone in particular that afternoon?”

Daniel folded his arms across his chest and said nothing.

“Do you know a tall, slender young lady with dark hair?” Birdsong persisted. “Perhaps wearing a navy-colored jacket?”

Drew struggled to keep his face blank. A tall, slender young
lady with dark hair? Surely not. Not the father
and
the son. He kept his eyes on Daniel, searching for clues in the younger man’s haughty face, but Daniel merely stared at the peeling gray paint on the wall. Russ fixed his attention on the papers he’d brought with him, though there was a keenness now in his expression.

Birdsong glanced over at the notes the sergeant had taken so far, stroked his mustache contemplatively, and then looked at the solicitor. “You may wish to advise your client to reconsider, Mr. Russ. If he refuses to cooperate, I will have no choice but to charge him with the murder of his father and place him under arrest.”

“I would like to speak to Mr. Montford in private, if I may, Inspector. I can hardly be of use to anyone until I’ve gotten sufficient information.”

“Very well. We don’t seem to be making much progress as we are.” Birdsong stood. “Come along, McRae.”

The two members of the constabulary made their departure, and then Drew nodded toward the door.

“Shall I . . . ?”

Daniel’s eyes flashed. “Yes.”

“No. Do stay here, Mr. Farthering.” Russ laid his hand on his client’s arm. “Daniel, I want you to tell me about that afternoon. I don’t care if you were stealing the crown jewels or setting fire to St. Paul’s, I want the truth, every bit of it, and I shall absolutely know if you’re lying to me.”

Daniel ducked his head, pouting. “I didn’t kill my father. I didn’t kill anyone. Isn’t that enough?”

“Then tell us why you were near the hotel that day.”

Daniel hesitated and then leaned closer and lowered his voice. “You want to know why I was there? I’ll tell you. Why I was there is none of your business.”

Drew held back an incredulous smile. The little blighter was working himself into the hangman’s noose, yet he couldn’t see it.

Russ looked the prisoner up and down, an air of almost disdain in his expression. He took out a cigarette, lit it, and leaned back in his chair. “Your mother will want to know how you are. What shall I tell her?”

Daniel’s lower lip quivered, but he only shrugged.

“I mean, what shall I tell her apart from the fact that you’ve been charged with your father’s murder and won’t cooperate with the police or with me. Of course, we could get you another solicitor, if you like, though if you’re determined not to answer questions with honesty, I don’t see the use of that.”

Again Daniel shrugged. “Do as you please. I tell you I didn’t kill my father, and that’s all anyone need know.”

“Very well.” Russ took another drag of his cigarette and then smiled at Drew. “Sorry, Mr. Farthering. I suppose you’ll have to tell Mrs. Montford you couldn’t be of much help, either. The chief inspector will be pleased to know he can close this case without much trouble.”

Drew nodded. “I daresay he will be. It’s rather amazing how quickly they can push these things through with the right suspect. Of course, there are the guilty ones, but they always have some ready excuse, don’t they? On those, it seems to take forever to get a conviction. But the others, the ones where a fellow was put in a tough spot because whatever would alibi him for the murder he’s charged with would ruin someone else? Can’t but feel bad for a chap like that.” He looked at the prisoner, who was staring at the floor with a tautness in his body that belied his show of disinterest.

“Quite right.” Russ tapped the ash from the end of his
cigarette. “A gentleman never mentions his peccadillos in public, especially if there’s a lady involved. But it’s a bit extreme, isn’t it, to go to the noose for a woman’s reputation?”

“Rather, but I expect, at least in some of these cases, the woman’s name need never come out.” Drew glanced at Daniel once again. “Tell me, Mr. Russ, if the inspector were satisfied with the alibi, he needn’t bring charges at all, isn’t that right?”

“Oh, yes, certainly.”

“And, I expect, if such a chap were to tell his solicitor, in absolute confidence, of course—”

“Oh, of course.”

“Then that solicitor could advise him on whether it might not be worth his while to make a clean breast of it with the chief inspector.” Drew smiled. “If there were such a case.”

“Ah, well.” Russ stood and picked up his hat. “No use talking hypotheticals at this point, Mr. Farthering. I suppose we ought to be going along to Mrs. Montford’s.”

Drew nodded and stood, as well. “I hate to tell her we’ve come a cropper on this whole thing already, but there it is.” He put on his hat. “Anything you’d like us to have your mother send on to you, Mr. Montford?”

“All right. All right.” Daniel glared at him, his eyes red-rimmed and his chin trembling. “You two don’t have to go on being so terribly clever. I’ll tell you, Mr. Russ. But I swear, if a word of this gets out, I’ll kill you both.”

Drew sat back down, removed his hat, and refrained from mentioning that one’s claim to be innocent of murder was not likely to be supported by repeated threats against the lives of those hoping to prove that innocence. Daniel Montford had enough to worry over at present.

Russ took his seat again and faced his client. “Just tell me,
Daniel, what you did that day. Whatever it was, at least then we’ll know how to proceed.”

“It was rum luck, that’s all. I didn’t know my father would be there at the hotel, especially not that one in particular. I expected he’d be in London, as he always was on weekdays, if not in court then at the office working.”

“Rather a coincidence,” Drew observed.

“I didn’t kill him!” Daniel slammed his fist against the worn, laminated tabletop. He then drew himself up straight in his chair and wiped his face on his sleeve, abruptly calm. “He was my father. I didn’t kill him.”

“All right then.” Russ’s voice was low and soothing. “Tell us what happened.”

“I went to have lunch with my . . . with someone. We went to the French place there on the street just the other side of the Empire Hotel, and afterwards I took a cab ride in the countryside and then back to the train station. It’s nothing more than that.”

Russ nodded. “And who were you with?”

“What difference does it make? It’s the truth.”

“Then you won’t mind if we contact this person to see if the story can be corroborated.”

Daniel shook his head. “You can’t do that.”

Russ waited for him to continue, and finally Daniel smiled, a bitter smile.

“Very well. It was a woman. A married woman. I suppose it’s nothing different from what you see every day in your practice.”

Russ sighed. “Did you usually meet this woman in the afternoon?”

“While her husband was at his office generally. When I was supposed to be in class.”

“Did you generally meet in public?”

“Sometimes. Not in London, of course, because we might be seen. But we did sometimes meet in Winchester or Canterbury or anyplace where she wouldn’t be known. It was all a lark, taking the trains down and all, pretending to be strangers again and again.”

“Any particular reason you wanted to meet at a restaurant this time?”

“I didn’t want her to make a scene.” Daniel fidgeted in his chair. “I suppose I thought she’d control herself in public.”

“Did you have reason to believe she wouldn’t otherwise?”

Drew could see Daniel struggling with the question, how best to respond to it. He could see too that Russ, competent solicitor that he was, already knew the answer.

“Daniel?” Russ prompted.

“I had decided to break off with her. I reckoned she would be upset, and I knew she couldn’t afford to make a scene. Not with me there and her husband elsewhere.”

“I see. And why had you decided to break off with her?”

“My father.” Daniel started to laugh. “My father had found out about her. He told me it wasn’t right, that marriage was a sacred bond that should never be broken. And I believed him.” He laughed again, laughed until the laughter turned into deep, painful sobs. “I believed him, and he was the greatest liar and hypocrite ever born.”

Drew waited until he’d calmed himself a bit and then said, “Your mother doesn’t think there’s anything to what this Allen girl says.”

“Mother.” Daniel laughed again, low and half hysterically. “Dear mother.”

Russ blew twin streams of cigarette smoke from his nose. “Let’s keep on the subject at hand, shall we? The Allen girl is
of no importance at the moment. How did your father find out about this woman you were seeing?”

“I had been asking him for money, some of the money my gran left me. I’m not supposed to have it for another four years, but I knew he could have approved some withdrawals if he’d wanted to.”

Russ nodded. “But he didn’t want to.”

“No. He said he’d have to know what it was for and it would have to be a pretty good cause, as well. I told him I couldn’t tell him, and he asked me straight out if it was for a girl. He wanted to know if I’d gotten someone in trouble, but I told him it was nothing like that. Still, he kept at me until I told him. That’s when he went on about marriage and honor. And to be honest, I thought he was grand about it at the time. He didn’t scold me or try to shame me. He just told me to consider what I knew of right and wrong and said he hoped I would think it best to ask God’s forgiveness and end things with the woman.” Daniel’s eyes filled with tears, but he ignored them. “And that’s what I did. I suppose I’d known it was wrong from the beginning. But I guess he knew about that well enough himself.”

For a moment, there was only silence in the little gray room, and then Russ cleared his throat. “What else did you do that day?”

“That was all. I told her I couldn’t see her again, I wished her well, and I went home.”

“How did she take the news?” Drew asked.

“She shrugged. She said it’d been fun and all, but she’d already realized that the thing had run its course. She said I hadn’t been her first and I wouldn’t be her last.” Daniel shook his head. “And I’d been afraid I’d break her heart.”