“And Mrs. Locock? Will she confirm your statement if asked?”
“Damn it, Inspector. I don’t want her bothered. She’s not strong, and she’s worried about our baby just now.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. And where were you Thursday night and into the early hours of Friday morning?”
“I was at my club and returned home around one. And before you ask, I let myself in with my latchkey and slept in my dressing room, not wanting to disturb my wife.”
“Can a coachman or cabbie confirm the time of your return?
“I belong to the Army and Navy.” Locock glanced at Tennant’s regimental tie. “You know the club and my address in town?” Tennant nodded. “Then you know it’s a short walk along Pall Mall to my house.”
“I believe your town house is a grace-and-favor,” Tennant said. “Interesting term. Tell me, whatfavormade the princegraceyou with that expensive address?”
At last, Tennant thought he’d rattled the man. Locock licked his lips. His gaze dropped to the desktop. “Bertie … His Royal Highness is generous to his friends.”
Tennant stood. “It’s unfortunate that you can’t supply an alibi for any of the days and times in question.”
“That proves nothing.”
“True. But it means you remain a person of interest.” Tennant tugged his hat in place. “Good afternoon, Captain.”
The inspector exited and glanced back at the nameplate on the closed door. He smiled.I’ve rattled Captain Frederick H. L. Locock, Director of Affairs for the Crown Colony of Malta.
Dr. Andrew Lewis folded Tuesday’sTimesand laid it beside his breakfast plate.
“Why the sigh, Grandfather?”
“At my age, one shouldn’t read the death notices. It’s not a week into the new year, and I just saw a familiar name.”
“Someone I know?”
“Ancient history, my dear. A great beauty from the time just after Waterloo.” Dr. Lewis chuckled. “One should be grateful not to find one’s name on the page.”
Mrs. Ogilvie entered the dining room with a fresh pot of tea and a note for Julia.
“A footman is waiting for a reply.”
Julia held the letter and looked around the table. “I have jam on my knife. May I borrow yours?”
“Allow me.” Dr. Lewis slit the black-bordered envelope with a clean blade and handed it back.
“From Lady Styles,” Julia said. “She asks if she and Mrs. Frederick Locock could come in tomorrow morning for consultations.”
“My, my. Early in the new year, and you’re attracting the carriage trade. Things are starting well, my dear.”
Julia smiled wryly. “No need to consult my diary to see if I’m free. Willie Oakes is coming in today and—”
“The young chap who lives at number twenty-six?”
“Yes. A sprained wrist and time for the splint to come off. But my appointment book is blank for tomorrow.”
The housekeeper brought in a pen, paper, and an envelope; Julia scratched out a reply.
“Mrs. Frederick Locock …” Dr. Lewis mused. “Sir Charles’s daughter-in-law?”
“Yes.” Julia signed with a flourish. “So, I must be on my mettle.” Julia sealed up the note and handed it to Mrs. Ogilvie. “For the footman.”
Dr. Lewis reached across the table and squeezed Julia’s hand. “Thingsarelooking up, my dear.”
