‘The doctor ordered most of his belongings burnt, you understand. Because of his... disease. I could not bear to do it myself, but Hamilton and Wolverton assisted with the task.’
Charlotte exchanged a disappointed glance with Lord Stanley. Of course Wolverton and Hamilton would have destroyed anything incriminating. Wolverton must have taken the black book from Frederick’s rooms whilst helping clear them out. That would explain how it came into his possession.
She hesitated before asking, ‘Did you keep nothing of his?’
‘I did keep one or two items. They were stored in his armoire, you see.’ His voice faltered. ‘No parent should ever have to bury their child.’
Despite everything, Charlotte felt a genuine flicker of pity.
Even Stanley softened, if only slightly.
‘What sort of things did you keep?’
‘Oh, a few personal effects. A gold pocket watch... a miniature portrait of him as a child. Then there was a jewellery box that belonged to his mother—set with precious jewels, very expensive, you understand. I could hardly allow that to be burned.’ He then tapped his cane on the floor. ‘Now tell me what this is about?’
‘We will need to examine those, Bainbridge,’ Lord Stanley said.
‘What?’ He struck the floor sharply with his cane this time and pushed himself to his feet as though preparing to strike someone. ‘Certainly not. What right have you to rummage through my son’s private belongings? I will not permit it.’
For a fleeting moment, Charlotte caught a glimpse of what he might once have been in his prime—forceful, domineering, even intimidating. Yet now the effect was somewhat spoiled by the fact he resembled little more than an overgrown child in the midst of a tantrum.
Lord Stanley remained unaffected by the outburst.
‘I regret to inform you that your son may have been involved in organising a criminal society engaged in kidnapping and murder.’
Bainbridge stared at him.
‘That is impossible,’ he said weakly. ‘Not Frederick.’
He sank heavily into his chair, as though something within him had finally given way. Perhaps, Charlotte thought, he had known the truth all along and simply lacked the courage to face it.
‘I was the best father... he would never...’
Stanley’s voice lowered, steadier now, as he explained their suspicions and the growing evidence against Frederick Bainbridge. With every word, the older man’s shoulders seemed to bow further beneath the weight of it.
‘We require certainty, nothing more,’ Lord Stanley said at last, more gently than before. ‘Allow us to search his things. Then we shall know the truth one way or another.’
After a long pause, Bainbridge reluctantly agreed.
‘Would it be possible to return to your estate with a few footmen and retrieve them?’
‘No need. I gave the jewellery box to my wife; she must have it upstairs. And the pocket watch and miniature are here.’
He withdrew the items from his pocket.
Charlotte and Lord Stanley examined them eagerly, only to be disappointed when they revealed no hidden secrets. The objects appeared entirely ordinary, though Lord Bainbridge reclaimed them as though they were priceless treasures.
Lord Stanley instructed a couple of footmen to accompany Lord Bainbridge to his wife’s room to fetch the jewellery box. But they did not expect it to contain anything of consequence either.
The moment Lord Bainbridge left the room, Lord Stanley spoke.
‘It is time we speak to Payne.’
Mr Payne denied everything. Neither veiled threats nor persuasion appeared to move him; he remained stubbornly defiant throughout.
‘I own warehouses, nothing more,’ he replied, folding his arms.
‘Warehouses with unusual security arrangements?’ Charlotte asked. ‘And rather curious business ties with Boulton, Hamilton, and Fraser?’
