The rest of his interviews were similarly unfruitful. He was able to establish an approximate time for the murder, sometime after the doorman Bernard Lox had made his parting rounds around midnight and had seen nothing in the Great Room, and twelve twenty-three, when Lady Mary and Miss Lynton had found the body.
“It was twelve twenty-three exactly,” Lady Mary said. “There’s a longcase clock in the Great Room, and immediatelyafter I sent Miss Lynton to find help, I went and checked the time.”
Bobby Carhart confirmed that time frame. The footman was probably in his mid-twenties, with sandy-colored hair and a permanent smirk that made Frederick’s hand twitch. “I’d made it to Haymarket, about five minutes away, when St. Martin’s bell tolled the half hour. The watch-box was only a few minutes farther.”
Frederick made notes in his book. Twenty-three minutes was a small window for someone to come into the club, strangle the victim, and escape. “And no men, excepting the workers, are allowed on the premises?”
“There are a few exceptions made, such as yourself, lecturers, that sort of thing.” Lady Mary shook her head. “But none on that night.”
“And you didn’t know Lady Richford was still at the club?”
Lady Mary stared at the ceiling. “I’d seen her earlier in the night, probably around ten or so. But I’d thought she’d left when we closed our doors at eleven.”
Frederick pinned Bobby with a stare. “Did you see her leave?”
“No.” The footman lifted one shoulder. “But I didn’t see her not leave, if you take my meaning.”
None of the other footmen had seen Lady Richford during their nightly rounds, either. The woman had hidden herself in the club, or she’d come back after closing. “And the exterior doors remain locked?”
“Always, except for the front door, of course.” Lady Mary nodded at Bobby. “The workers have keys. There’s a door from the Great Room that exits into the back alley, and a door next to this office that leads outside. Unless we’re accepting a delivery or taking out the garbage, those doors remained closed and locked.”
Frederick closed his notebook. “Thank you, Bobby. That will be all, for now.”
The footman rose. “Can I bring you a snifter of liquid excitement?” he asked Lady Mary. He bobbed his head at Frederick. “This must be monstrously dull for you.”
Frederick folded his hands over his abdomen. He could only hope that Lady Mary found this investigation dull. It would solve at least one problem for him.
“No, thank you,” Lady Mary said. “You were the last? No one else to send in?”
Bobby winked as he went to the door. “You finished with the best.” And then he was gone.
“Quite full of himself, isn’t he?” Frederick removed his handkerchief and wiped the lead dust from his fingers.
“At that age, aren’t most men?” She planted her elbows on the desk and rested her chin on her interlaced hands. “That seemed like a singular waste of time. No one had anything bad to say about Lady Richford which could indicate why she was killed.”
Frederick frowned. He wasn’t much older than the footman, and he’d never acted so cocksure. “Or no one dared.” He pushed out of the chair and started to pace. “What do you know of the woman?”
She blew out a breath. “Not as much as I should. She didn’t seem like a bad sort, but she was one of those people whom I met that I realized instantly would not become a bosom-friend. She did seem to be close with Miss Abbott. At least she spoke with her more than the others.”
Frederick nodded. He’d already made a note to speak with the woman. “No arguments you heard about? No disputes?”
“Not to my knowledge, but I’m not the grand confessor here. There are many members like Miss Abbott who were not here today and who might know more.”
Frederick turned, and a fern leaf batted against his face. He frowned. “Your workers all seem to have a standard uniform. Are there any exceptions?”
“No.” She gave him a shrewd look. “That cravat wasn’t worn by one of my footmen.”
She wasn’t stupid, he’d give her that. He’d examined the murder weapon when he’d gone to the Bow Street offices. It was made of a fine linen in a shade of cream. There had been no manufacturer’s mark, no distinguishing feature of any kind. “Perhaps Lady Richford brought it with her,” he murmured. “I’ll have to ask her husband if he recognizes it.”
Lady Mary leaned back. “You seemed to have a previous acquaintance with the viscount.”
As she hadn’t asked a question, he refrained from replying. His previous relationships were none of Lady Mary’s business. And after all, what good could come from revealing how he and the Richfords had first met?
“Thank you for the use of your office.” He slid his notebook and lead back in his pocket and nodded. “I’ll notify you if I need any further assistance.”
He took his leave, ignoring the twittering of the ladies as he passed. He thought of the Richfords again and reaffirmed his decision to remain silent on how he’d first met them.
The woman was dead. There was no need to tarnish her reputation.
