I looked between the two, not failing to note that they had arrived together. And that Eleanor looked suspiciously flushed.
Leaning back in my office chair, I rested my linked hands on my abdomen, smiling for the first time in who knew how long. Young love was enough to pull anyone from a foul spirit.
Mr. Rollins held Eleanor’s chair until she sat, then took his own. “Pardon me for not being immediately available, Lady Mary. I do have duties to attend.”
I suppose I’d earned that. In a more reasonable tone, I said, “It is inconvenient to have to call you hence every time we need to talk. We could set up another desk in my office for your use for the duration of the investigation?”
Rollins paused while removing his notepad, his hand half in his pocket. “No, I think not. Sir John Stauncey would hardly look kindly on such an arrangement, and I don’t want him removing me from this investigation.”
“But Lord Richford has hired you personally.” Eleanor reached over and rested her palm on his arm. “You can’t be replaced.”
Rollins traced his finger over the back of her hand, the motion so quick and light it could have been accidental. Butwhen he straightened and turned a guilt-laden gaze on me, I knew better. “With Richford fleeing to his country estate, I’m not certain where I stand. When I notified him of his son’s death, he…” Rollins sighed. “He was a broken man. I don’t know if he has the mental capability to remember he’s put me on retainer, much less to continue to contract me. It would be an easy thing for Stauncey to assign another agent.”
“Then we need to solve the murders before that happens,” I said firmly. “What can you tell us about how Bannister was killed?”
Rollins flipped open his notebook. “You already know the basics. Shot with a small caliber pistol at close range. We found a ruby necklace in his boot with the initials A.M. engraved on the clasp.” He looked up. “The Masseys reluctantly confirmed it was theirs.”
I reached for the walking stick leaning against my desk and tapped the silver ram’s head that topped this one against one palm. “So, it is confirmed the viscountess engaged in blackmail. And used my club to sell some of her ill-gotten gains.” The knowledge of that still burned. I wondered if White’s had to deal with being used as a meeting place for illegal behavior. One could only hope. “What about the other jewelry you found? Any luck tracing those items?”
Eleanor scooted to the edge of her seat. “No. None of them were distinctive enough for the jewelers I questioned to remember. Except for the posey ring. One man thought a former worker might have made it. He had no records of it, though. It didn’t seem as though this jeweler was overly fond of record-keeping. He did give me the worker’s name, however.”
“And I have men trying to find him,” Rollins added.
I nodded. “And what about the rest of the murder scene. Anything else of note?”
Mr. Rollins hesitated a moment. “Except for the body, it was undisturbed.” He shot a sidelong glance at Eleanor. “The door hadn’t been forced. Which leads me to believe Bannister invited his killer inside. He knew her. Or him.”
“But you think it was a woman.” I trailed my thumb over the ram’s head. The silver had been etched with rough hatch marks on the horns, the slight scratch on my skin helping to focus my thoughts.
“Judging from the angle the bullet traveled, the shooter would have been shorter than most men.” He ran a hand up the back of his head, mussing his auburn locks. “The fact that Bannister was shot at all makes me suspect the killer was a member of your sex. Lady Richford was a small woman. It wouldn’t take much strength to strangle her, but Bannister was a different story. The same method wouldn’t work for a woman, not unless she somehow incapacitated the man first. A different weapon was needed.”
Eleanor sighed. “I should have asked Miss Abbott about Lady Richford’s blackmail. As her dear friend, surely she would have known.”
“Or participated in it.” Mr. Rollins gave a growl of displeasure. “It’s a good thing you didn’t ask her. By your own account, she was angry enough with your questions. I don’t want to think what she might have done to you had she known you thought she was involved with the viscountess’s crimes.”
“If she was,” I felt the need to add, not wanting to accuse a possibly innocent woman. Although with Miss Abbott’s revolutionary feelings, would it be far-fetched to think she would take anything other than glee from stealing from the wealthy? She flaunted her disgust with traditional society and its rules, seemed to yearn for the impossible utopia her political leanings promised.
Eleanor pursed her lips. “It could explain how she affords her lodgings. They are quite nice,” she said to me, “for someone who only seems to have odd jobs to support herself.”
I frowned. We were getting off the point. “Yes, she might be involved with Lady Richford’s blackmail, but she didn’t kill her. We spoke with the host of the salon she attended that night, and with his staff. Miss Abbott was there until well after midnight. She didn’t leave early.”
Rollins cleared his throat, shifting. “Yes, I had already spoken with Mr. Poole and confirmed she was there.”
The ram on my stick smacked into my desk, the sound making Eleanor start. “And you didn’t tell us?” I asked, outraged.
He grimaced. “I’m not accustomed to relating my investigation to anyone other than the magistrate. I apologize.”
Knowing the Runner didn’t hand out apologies freely, I was slightly mollified.
“She said the argument between her and Bannister was because he took offense at the guidance she wanted to give him.” Eleanor wrinkled her nose. “For once, I can understand Bannister’s temper. I wouldn’t want Miss Abbott giving her opinions on my life, either.”
Especially if Miss Abbott was living immorally, as well. The hypocrisy would have rubbed anyone wrong. I slumped in my chair. If Miss Abbott had partnered with Lady Richford to blackmail members of theton, were there others? How many members of my club were looting the wealthy? The silver knob dug into my skin. And using my club to help them do it.
There was one man who might know. Or be able to find out. “What about the connection between Edric Cooke and Lord Anglia? If Cooke is connected with Anglia, and Lady Richford was in Anglia’s way politically, could the crime lord be involved?”
Mr. Rollins dragged his hand down his face and sighed. “I don’t want to add another suspect now, and I don’t think a man of Cooke’s reputation would have a woman strangled in a women’s club. If he wanted the viscountess dead, her body would never have been found. And what would be the motive for Bannister’s murder?”
I held up my free hand. “All right, it was only an idea.” And the fact that the Runner dismissed Cooke as their murderer so readily released a knot in my shoulder I hadn’t known was there.
