When they were seated in the music room, Lady Polly nudged her daughter. “That’s Roger there,” she hissed, pointing with her fan.
Rose surveyed Roger. He was undoubtedly very handsome. He had thick wavy fair hair and a strong nose and firm mouth.
As if conscious of her gaze, he turned his head and gave her a half smile. Rose ducked her head and twiddled with the sticks of her ivory fan. “He smiled at you!” exclaimed Lady Polly. “You must flirt, girl.”
Fortunately for Rose, any further lecture was cut short by the start of the concert. A heavily built German gentleman sang Lieder, followed by a soprano who sang ‘I Dreamt That I Dwelt in Marble Halls’. She received noisy and rapturous applause from an audience who did not have to dream about living in marble halls because they already did. The soprano was followed by a Pole who played Chopin with great verve and then came the interval.
Lady Polly stood up and called, “Elizabeth!” She pinched Rose’s elbow. “Roger’s mother. Be charming.”
“Polly, my dear.” Lady Cherm, who joined them, was unfashionably thin, to the point of emaciation. Her low-cut gown showed sharp bones.
“Where is your gorgeous boy?” cooed Lady Polly.
“Right there. Roger! Come and be introduced.”
Roger came to join them. His eyes were grey and fringed with fair lashes. After the introductions were effected, Roger held out his arm to Rose. “Shall we walk a little before the next half? I find rout chairs demned uncomfortable.”
Rose took his arm. “I have read a lot about you, Lady Rose,” said Roger. “You do seem to have a lot of adventures.”
“I hope they are over now,” said Rose, looking around for Harry and not finding him. “I have not seen you at the Season before.”
“I’ve been travelling. I adore seeing other countries.” He began to describe his travels and Rose found herself becoming very interested. “I’ll need to settle down one day,” said Roger, fixing her with his clear grey gaze, “but it would need to be with someone as adventurous as myself.”
Rose felt a pulse of attraction for him. Harry was such a difficult man. What would it be like to be free to travel the world with an adventurous husband?
“It’s starting again,” said Roger with a groan. “Not my thing. I say, would you like to go driving in the Park with me tomorrow?”
Rose was about to refuse, but then a spurt of rebellion prompted her to say, “I should like that very much.”
Why should she forgo the chance of a drive with a handsome man for someone like Harry who, as usual, had not even bothered to show up?
♦
Harry had been refused an invitation. Mrs Blenkinsop had recently tried to hire him to find her lost dog and Harry had declined. She had not forgiven him. He wondered how he was going to be able to see Rose. He also realized that he could not afford to keep turning down minor cases and so he told his secretary to advertise in the newspapers for detectives. Daisy was not in a condition to go out detecting and he needed Becket with him as an assistant as well as a driver.
He was disappointed that Rose had not called him to tell him of any social engagements where he might meet her. He wrongly assumed that she would understand that he had been unable to secure an invitation.
Then he suddenly thought that at least Daisy could call on her and tell her all about the latest developments. Unfortunately, he forgot to tell Daisy why he had failed to appear the night before.
Rose listened in growing horror as Daisy told her of the death of the prison guard. She almost thought of cancelling her outing with Roger but then realized if she did so, her mother would be furious with her.
“I wonder how Kerridge got on with interviewing Jones,” she said. “I would have loved to be there.”
“What I was wondering,” said Daisy, “was how a haberdasher from a shop in the Mile End Road could suddenly afford a large shop in Notting Hill, not to mention a flat in Chepstow Mansions.”
“Do you mean he might have been some sort of criminal using the shop as a cover?”
“Something like that. I’m thinking of going back down the East End to make some inquiries. Can you come?”
Rose looked at the clock. Three in the afternoon. She planned long preparations to dazzle Roger. “I cannot, Daisy. I am going out driving with a gentleman and want to look my best.”
“And who is this gentleman?”
“Lord Cherm’s son, Roger. He is well travelled and is very interesting.”
“And what about the captain?”
“Daisy, he promised to be at the Mrs Blenkinsop’s last night and he did not bother to come. Delighted as I am to see you, I feel he should have made a push to see me himself.”
“Perhaps he was unable to get an invitation.”
“Pooh, I happen to know he has done work for Mrs Blenkinsop in the past. He does not care enough. If he had really loved me, he would not have become enamoured with Dolores.”
Rose, much as she liked to consider herself democratic, felt that there was something seriously wrong when Harry could be charmed by a vulgar creature from the East End.
“I’ll go myself,” said Daisy.
♦
Harry went to Scotland Yard. “How did you get on with Jones?” he asked Kerridge.
“Jones got a lawyer here very quickly. He acted the outraged shopkeeper. As we had nothing so far to connect him with either Carver or Biles, we had to let him go.”
“What did you make of him?”
“I’m puzzled. He does seem a respectable man, rather weak and fussy. It would take a great stretch of my imagination.”
“If he is innocent, why did he refuse to see me?”
“Perhaps he has something murky to hide other than murder.”
“I wonder. He does seem to live in style and have a large shop. Quite a social jump-up from the East End. I think I’ll go down there with Becket and ask around where the shop used to be.”
♦
Daisy had had the same idea. The shop was now an ironmonger’s. She pushed open the door and went in.
A huge man in a brown overall stood behind the counter. Without Rose’s purse to back her up, Daisy did not want to spend the small amount of money she had with her by buying items of ironmongery. She decided to be direct.
“I am working for the Cathcart Detective Agency,” she said. “Did you know the previous owner, Mr Jones?”
“I bought the shop from him, that’s all,” he said.
“The thing that puzzles me,” said Daisy, “is how he got enough money out of the sale to buy that big shop up west?”
“Why don’t you ask him?”
“I tried. Anyway, the police are questioning him today.”
“I don’t like nosy parkers.” He came round the counter and loomed over her. “Do you know what happens to nosy parkers round here?”
Daisy turned to go.
“They end up in the river,” he shouted.
Daisy reached for the door handle but a vicious blow struck her on the back of the head.
“I’ll deal with you later,” growled the shopkeeper.
He decided to close up. When Becket and Harry arrived, he was putting up the shutters.
Harry approached him. “I would like a word with you.”
“Haven’t got the time,” he said. “Closing up.”
“Bit early for that, isn’t it?” asked Harry.
Becket got down from the car and stood beside Harry. Then Becket heard a faint cry from the shop. “Help me!”
The shopkeeper snarled, “Go away,” and tried to get into the shop. Harry struck him a savage blow behind his legs with his stick and the man fell to the ground.