Harold Fowler appeared in the doorway, a constable behind him.
“Mr. Crawford, make a note of Mr. Hastings’s comments concerning his attempt to murder Mr. Stalbridge,” Fowler said.
“Yes, sir.” The constable took a pad and pencil out of his pocket.
Anthony looked at Fowler. “I see you got my message.”
“Yes. We waited until we saw your father depart the premises with a young woman concealed in a cloak, as you suggested.”
Elwin stared at Fowler, desperation in his eyes. “I can explain everything.”
“There will be plenty of time for explanations, sir.” Fowler looked at Anthony. “I will want to speak with you, also.”
“Of course.” Anthony inclined his head. “I am at your disposal, Detective. You might also be interested in talking to the late Victoria Hastings. The last time I saw her she was unconscious in the basement. With luck she will still be there.”
Fowler’s bushy brows jumped. “I see. This affair sounds a bit tangled.”
“No,” Anthony said. “It is really very simple. You were right, Detective. When it comes to murder, there are only a small number of motives. Greed, revenge, the need to conceal a secret, and madness. In this case, there seems to have been something of all four.”
49
Two days later Louisa sat at her desk reading the report in the Flying Intelligencer. As usual, Mr. Spraggett had chosen a headline designed to capture attention from a wide assortment of readers. Several headlines, actually. Spraggett was never one to use a single sensational headline when two or three would suffice.
A CASE OF MURDER MOST FOUL IN HIGH SOCIETY.
BLOODY EVENTS IN A BROTHEL. MEMBERS OF POLITE
WORLD ARRESTED. MISSING WIFE RETURNS
FROM A WATERY GRAVE.
by
I.M.Phantom
The Polite World was shocked to learn that Mr. Elwin Hastings was recently arrested for the murder last year of a young lady named Fiona Risby and the attempted murder of his first wife, Victoria Hastings, long presumed a suicide.
The authorities discovered Mr. Hastings in a brothel. A valuable necklace that belonged to the murder victim, Miss Risby, was in his possession at the time. His wife, Victoria Hastings, long believed to be dead, was also on the premises.
Readers will be further astonished to hear that the first Mrs. Hastings is the proprietor of the notorious establishment on Swanton Lane known as Phoenix House. Her husband is an investor in the brothel and a frequent patron.
When found, Mrs. Hastings was dazed and bleeding from a head wound. She was described as suffering from an acute case of shattered nerves. Confronted with the sight of her husband she flew into a violent rage. She accused Mr. Hastings of having attempted to murder her by throwing her into the river. She attributed her survival to the merest chance.
In addition to Mr. and Mrs. Hastings, another man believed to be involved in criminal activities was reported to have been at the scene. He disappeared before the authorities were able to question him….
Someone banged the front door knocker. Louisa put down the paper and listened to Mrs. Galt go toward the front hall. The door opened. She heard Anthony’s voice.
“Never mind, Mrs. Galt. I’ll show myself into the study.”
“I’ll just go and put on the kettle,” Mrs. Galt said.
Louisa listened to Anthony’s footsteps coming toward the study. The familiar little thrill of longing and anticipation tightened her insides. He walked into the cozy room, a package under one arm.
“Good day, my love,” he said, crossing to the desk. “I trust I am not interrupting?”
“No,” she said quickly. “I was just reading the morning paper.”
“The excellent report by I. M. Phantom on recent murderous events in High Society, I presume.”
“Yes, as a matter of fact.”
“Shocking stuff.” He put the package down on the desk, reached down, and hauled her up out of the chair. “Absolutely shocking, but it does make for riveting reading.”
He kissed her soundly. She put her arms around his neck and softened against him. When he eventually released her and looked down at her, a familiar, exciting heat in his eyes, she blushed and pushed her spectacles higher on her nose.
“Have you any more news from Mr. Fowler?” she asked, sitting down again very quickly.
He exhaled deeply and lowered himself into one of the reading chairs. “This, it appears, is one of the great difficulties that arises when one engages in an illicit liaison with a member of the press.”
She beetled her brows. “What are you talking about?”
He spread his hands. “The latest news, rumors, and gossip always come first.”
“Hah. You know very well that is not true. You kissed me before I even had a chance to ask you about your meeting with Fowler.”
He raised a finger. “Only because I have learned to move quickly where you are concerned.”
She folded her hands on the desk. “Well?”
“I doubt that matters will conclude as neatly as one might hope, but there will, nevertheless, be some justice.” Anthony stretched out his legs and relaxed into his chair. “There is no word of Quinby’s fate as yet, but Fowler is not overly concerned. He told me in private that he has every expectation that Clement Corvus will take care of Quinby.”
She swallowed hard. “Oh, dear.”
Anthony’s eyes hardened. “Do not trouble yourself with sympathy for Quinby. He kidnapped you without a qualm. He knew full well that Victoria Hastings planned to dump you in the river. In fact, she was going to use him to carry out the deed.”
“Yes, I suppose that is true. Still, one cannot help but feel a certain pity for the man. How dreadful it must have been for him to live all his life cut off from the privileges that would have been his if his father had acknowledged him.”
“You are entirely too softhearted, my dear. As for Quinby, he should have known better than to cross Clement Corvus.”
“What about Mr. and Mrs. Hastings?”
“According to Fowler they are still hurling accusations and offering proof of the other’s guilt. Meanwhile, the second Mrs. Hastings is said to have moved back into the home of her parents and will shortly be filing for divorce on the grounds that her husband is a bigamist. Her grandfather has cut off all funds to Hastings. In order to dampen the scandal, there are rumors that Lilly will soon be wed quietly and quickly to a young man of her choosing. I suspect that he is the very same young man she brought up to her bedroom the night I opened Hastings’s safe.”
“I’m happy for her. What of Hastings?”
“According to the gossip in the clubs Hastings will soon be destitute. The investment consortium has fallen apart, naturally. Even if he does not hang, he will be utterly destroyed, barred forever from the only world that matters to him.”
“Society.”
“Yes.”
“I wonder what will become of Victoria Hastings.”
“Fowler is convinced that Victoria is quite mad and will likely be sent to an asylum.”
“Hmm.”
Anthony raised his brows. “You doubt that she is insane?”
“I wouldn’t put it past her to act the part if she thought it would save her neck.”
“I assure you, if she is sane, being locked up in an asylum would prove a fate worse than death.”
She shivered. “I do not doubt that.”
“There is one more thing to report,” Anthony said quietly.
“Yes?”
“I encountered Julian Easton at my club this afternoon.”
“Oh, dear. How did it go?”
“He was very subdued. He actually apologized to me. You were right. It seems he blamed himself for Fiona’s death. She had gone out into the gardens to meet him the night she died.nThey had arranged a rendezvous, but she ran afoul of Mr. and Mrs. Hastings before Easton went to join her. When he arrived at the appointed spot, she was not there.”