Jasper was incredulous at the man’s uncaring attitude. “You didn’t worry that your wife seemed to have traveled alone for hours in the night, in a storm, along darkened roads?”
The man did not answer, and his expression remained impassive as he sipped his drink. No. He had not loved his wife. He’d likely only married Helen for her money. She had met with someone last night, though from the wording on the unsigned note currently in Jasper’s pocket, it could have been with a friend or a lover—though Jasper leaned toward it being a lover, considering she’d been carrying a child. She had been at least four or five months along, according to Leo’s estimation.
Had Anthony discovered she was meeting someone? Or that she was pregnant?
If Anthony was lying about being home last night and had instead gone to London, he would have needed a horse and carriage to get there. If Helen was killed around five in the morning, that would have given Anthony more than enough time to hasten back to Harrow and pretend to have been abed all night. However, his curricle and horse would show signs of use. Jasper would be making a visit to the stables.
“I’m going to need a handwriting sample from you, Mr. Dalton,” he said. He’d told Warnock and Price to get handwriting samples from everyone on staff as well.
The man scowled. “Whatever for?”
“I just require it,” Jasper replied, his patience thinning. He would not breathe a word about the note until he matched up the writing and knew who had sent it to Helen. Her maid, who might have delivered it to her, might also be aware of the sender’s identity.
Anthony grumbled but took his drink to a small writing desk. Using a fountain pen, he scratched something onto a piece of stationary. He slammed the pen down and stalked toJasper, thrusting the paper at him. “Here. Now, unless you have anything more to ask?—”
“I do, thank you,” Jasper cut in, taking a cursory glance at what appeared to be a sloppily done signature. He couldn’t be sure until he compared the writing side to side, but he didn’t think it was a match.
“Were you present in Helen’s life when her younger brother, Theodore, died?”
The way he jerked his chin back in surprise, it was evident this wasn’t a question Anthony had anticipated. “That was what...ten or so years ago?”
“Twelve.”
He scoffed. “I met and married Helen eight years ago. So, the answer is no, Inspector. What has that to do with my wife’s murder?”
The remote way Anthony spoke of Helen’s demise without so much as a quivering chin or a catch in his throat continued to bother Jasper. He seemed to accept it far too quickly and willingly.
“Eight years,” Jasper said. “Did you never want children?”
It was a prying question, however, asking this type of question was what his job was all about. Anthony’s cool glare went even more wintry.
“We were never blessed. Is that all, Inspector? I need to inform the viscount.”
“I will be doing that, Mr. Dalton, though you are welcome to come with me,” Jasper said, hoping Warnock and Price were making good time interviewing the servants. The constable and sergeant had instructions to meet Jasper at Cowper Hall once they’d concluded their inquiries and to bring Helen’s maid along with them for additional questioning.
Jasper crossed his arms. “I will wait while you dress.” He would not let Anthony Dalton out of his sight just yet.
While the occupant of Field’s End Manor showed a distinct lack of shock and sorrow at the news of Helen’s death, those under Cowper Hall’s roof were appropriately horrified.
Jasper and Anthony arrived past midnight to an utterly dark manor. They’d taken Anthony’s curricle, allowing Jasper time to speak with the stable hand, who confirmed his employer had arrived home just past ten o’clock the previous evening. The stable hand had cleaned the mud spattered over the whole of the conveyance and had groomed the horse, which had been equally muddy. The curricle and horse had not left the stables since.
With that assurance, it was looking as if Anthony Dalton had not gone into London during the night after all. It would have been too easy, Jasper supposed, to find Helen’s husband responsible for her murder. But he still did not trust Anthony and would not rule him out completely.
It took at least a quarter hour for the viscount’s butler, Decamp, to awaken the household and for them to make their way to the main drawing room. Jasper and Anthony spent the time in silence, with Anthony pouring and downing two single malts by the time Viscount Cowper entered the room.
“What is the meaning of this, Inspector?” Lord Cowper asked, his expression twisted not into a look of loathing but into one of fear.
Jasper delivered the somber news, and the older man staggered to an armchair. He put his forehead in his palm and stayed that way. Helen’s sister, Nadia, appeared then and, seeing her grandfather in distress, rushed to his side. When he mumbled to her what had happened, she cried out and burst into tears. Their grief seemed genuine to Jasper, and he hadseen plenty of crocodile tears in his time. The room devolved into chaos over the next few minutes, as Frederick and his wife arrived and learned of Helen’s fate while the shocked butler ordered a tearful maid to wake the housekeeper and return with strong tea and brandy.
Their reactions were unfolding as expected, so Jasper stood back and observed. Anthony continued to drink as he stayed detached from the commotion. Frederick’s wife, Millicent, remained dry-eyed as she calmly patted Nadia’s shoulder. Frederick sat hunched on the sofa, appearing a little green and holding a clenched fist to his mouth.
Once quiet had descended upon the room again, Jasper began.
“I will need to know all of your movements from after dinner last night through this morning,” he said. “My constable and sergeant will be here shortly to speak to your staff as well.”
Millicent lowered her hand from Nadia’s shoulder. “Our movements? You cannot think that any of us had something to do with Helen’s death?”
“She was murdered, Mrs. Cowper, and as I have not yet determined who killed her, everyone associated with Helen is to be questioned.”
