“I could not speak for the ladies,” Solomon said tactfully. “There would appear to be several possibilities as to how he came to be where he was found. Was Mr. St. John in the habit of frequenting such establishments?”
Cordell shook his head. “I can’t imagine it. He was a fastidious sort of fellow. On the other hand, I believe he did have a long-term mistress.” He shot another glance at Solomon.
“Another conversation not to have with Mrs. St. John,” Solomon agreed. “But to be honest with you, Mr. Cordell, I am seeking the truth for my wife’s sake. I would appreciate the name and direction of this mistress.”
“I didn’t learn this from St. John,” Cordell said quickly. “It’s only rumor and gossip. But I have seen him in this woman’s company. He even introduced me to her openly as his ‘old friend,’ Miss Zenobia Paul. Are you thinking he might have been on his way to or from her house when he was killed?”
“It’s a possibility. Unless you know otherwise?”
“I dined with the family that evening, after which Mr. St. John went out—to his club, I think. I believe his valet saw him return about eleven, but he obviously went out again. That is all I know.”
“Thank you,” Solomon said. “It seemed criminally bad manners to question the family, but I do need to know the truth.”
“I suppose the police hold your household in suspicion also,” Cordell said. “I must admit, I did not bargain for such unpleasantness when I proposed to Miss St. John.”
Solomon cocked an eyebrow. “Regretting it?”
“Good Lord, no,” Cordell said easily. “Always prepared for the ‘better or worse’—I just didn’t expect the ‘worse’ quite so soon!”
“When is it you plan to marry? Will you have to postpone it?”
“At the end of June.” Cordell tugged at his left ear. “I don’t want to postpone, but I shall leave it up to Bella.”
“Most understanding of you. Did you spend the rest of St. John’s final evening with your betrothed’s family?”
“I did. You sound like the policeman.”
“I beg your pardon. What time did you leave the St. John house?”
Cordell blinked.
“Sorry,” Solomon said. “I don’t mean to interrogate you. I am only trying to establish where Mr. St. John was at what time. Did you see any sign of him, or anyone that might have been him, on your way home?”
Cordell looked thoughtful but shook his head. “I left just after eleven and walked home, but I don’t recall seeing anyone. A few passing carriages, perhaps.”
“Where is home?”
“Brook Street.”
“Not so far, then. Did you remain there, or go out again?”
Cordell cast him an amused sideways glance. “Now youdosound like the policeman. I met friends at my club, which I’m sure the police have already ascertained. I had no reason to kill my prospective father-in-law. I liked him, and he was happily in favor of my marriage to his daughter, of whom he was inordinately fond. I am, you know, an eligible bachelor, of good family, and financially sound. And he knew I was devoted to Bella.”
“I never doubted it,” Solomon said smoothly. “Forgive me for what must seem unpardonable curiosity. My wife and I run aprivate investigation business, so asking questions to clarify all aspects of a situation has become second nature to both of us.”
“Good Lord,” Cordell said, fascination in his gaze. “I’ve never heard of such a thing. What sort of things do you investigate—er…privately?”
“Oh, various matters, from ghostly sightings to lost and stolen property and missing persons. Some such have involved murder. And then there are the people who wish their prospective employees to be investigated.”
Cordell’s lip curled. “And wives their straying husbands? Or vice versa.”
“We do receive such requests,” Solomon admitted, “but we never accept them.”
“On the grounds of vulgarity?” Cordell asked, clearly amused.
“On the grounds that we cannot solve private issues of trust.”
Cordell tilted his head. “You are a very odd sort of fellow. From all I ever heard of the mysterious Solomon Grey, I thought you were this hideously wealthy semi-recluse from the West Indies, who only emerged into public to secure deals that made you even more money. Now I discover you to be a smart English gentleman married to London’s most famous courtesan and employed for purposes I can only call prying.”
