“Tell me, did you share yourentirelist of suspects with the chief constable?” Dermott chuckled when Tennant nodded.“Hearing Bertie’s name amongst the potential culprits made his day, I’ll wager.”
When they reached the top of the steamer gangway, Tennant said, “Speaking of wagers. On our railway journey, I asked you to handicap the suspects. Major FitzGerald is your favorite. How does Captain Frederick Locock rate on your racing form?”
Sir Lionel shrugged. “I have nothing against Freddie.”
“That’s not an answer. Assess the man’s capacity for murder … and his motives.”
“I know nothing that could help you with either.”
“The Royal Victoria marina master said Locock recently purchased a yacht. An expensive hobby for a doctor’s son.” Tennant waited for a reply. Then he said, “Socially, Captain Locock seems an ‘odd man out’ in the prince’s set.”
“Does his social standing affect his status as a suspect?”
Once again, Dermott had deflected. “No. But it makes it harder for me to fit him into the picture frame.”
“He and Ollie Montgomery were in the same regiment, the Royal Horse Guards. Locock is in the Colonial Office now.”
“In a position of some confidence?”
“Not really.”
“Newly married, I understand,” Tennant said.
“Yes.”
“Do you know his address?”
“Don’t recall it offhand. I’ll send it to you.”
Somehow, either the loquacious Sir Lionel had grown bored with the game of coppers and culprits, or …or what?
Tennant said, “Should I have reason to suspect Major FitzGerald? Something beyond your dislike of the man.”
Dermott’s slow smile spread. “Now that I consider it, I can think of one reason FitzGerald might kill to cover up a dalliance.”
“What is that?”
“His father-in-law’s money. It cost FitzGerald a thousand pounds of the old Marmalade King’s tin to jump from captain to major. It’ll be thousands more to purchase the rank of colonel. And I hear Fitz covets the crown-and-star for his collar.”
“Then the major has a motive for good marital behavior … or its appearance.”
“Rumor is the old man tied his daughter’s money tighter than a sailor’s knot. Most of it jumps a generation, settled on the major’s ‘heir and spare.’”
“So, in a divorce—”
“Harriet FitzGerald’s lovely lucre vanishes …” Dermott fished a shilling out of his pocket, palmed the coin, and then opened his empty hand. “Just like that.”
CHAPTER 8
Mrs. Ogilvie had decked the halls of the Lewis town house in Christmas trimmings, but Julia felt low on holiday cheer. Inspector Tennant had dropped by briefly on his return from the Isle of Wight. But Sir Richard Mayne was impatient for the inspector’s report and expected him that evening. He stayed only long enough to wish them a happy Christmas.
Dr. Lewis had asked, “Do you have plans, Richard? My sister is our only guest. You’d be most welcome to join us.”
Tennant hesitated. “Thank you, sir. That’s kind of you, but I spend Christmas in Kent with Hannah, our old housekeeper.”
Julia accompanied the inspector to the front door. “I’m sorry to refuse your invitation,” Tennant said, fiddling with the brim of his hat. “Hannah is … well, she’s something more than a servant.”
“I gathered that last June in Kent,” Julia said. “Over tea, she called you ‘Richard.’ Not many housekeepers use the Christian names of their employers.”
