Murder in Grosvenor Square (Captain Lacey Regency Mysteries Book 9) Read online

  His tone was firm. I had no reason to argue with him, except that I always had the compulsion to contradict him. “Mr. Travers’s family will bury him.”

  “They are threadbare poor. The second Mrs. Travers presents a picture of respectability, but the truth is that her husband is nearly always drunk, and the family is ever in danger of creditors. I will settle the account for Mr. Travers’s funeral myself.”

  I remembered Mrs. Travers stiffly proclaiming her husband was in bed and would not rise. Had he been too inebriated to come down and receive me? Or perhaps not in the house at all but at a nearby taproom?

  “You know much about them,” I said.

  “I make it my business to know. What I am coming around to telling you, Captain, is that I wish the Nines to close.”

  I raised my brows. “You do? Why? Because it is a criminal enterprise you do not control?”

  Denis gave me a look that was almost amused. “Precisely. I own many interests in the area, but the Nines eludes me. I would like you to shed bad light on the place. Spread the tales to the right people. Mr. Derwent has been badly hurt, Mr. Travers killed. The Nines has played a part in that. This should be enough to gain the attentions of the magistrates and reformers, including Sir Gideon. My voice, in this case, would have little weight, but yours would speak volumes. All are aware of your zeal about disreputable places. Remember the Glass House.”

  An establishment in the East End I’d had a hand in closing. I felt the need, however, to point out flaws in his plan. “I have not established that Mr. Derwent and Mr. Travers were badly hurt at the Nines,” I said. “Bertha—one of the butterflies—says not.”

  “And you believed her?”

  “Not necessarily. She is the sort who would say anything to keep the blame from herself. I am certain Leland and Gareth were roughed up at the Nines, but the mortal wounds came later.”

  “I am not interested in precision in this matter.” Denis made a motion with the flat of his hand, as though wiping away my arguments. “It will be enough that the Nines is implicated. I wish its doors to be closed by the end of the week.”

  “And then?” I gave him a penetrating look. “You will open them again?”

  “Probably.” He said nothing more than that. I imagined that when Denis ran the Nines, wealthy gentlemen of Mayfair would still be turning over all their money but this time to him.

  I could not yet give in. “If the ruffians at the Nines are arrested and convicted for the murder of Gareth Travers and bodily harm to Leland, the real culprit gets away. I do not want that to happen.”

  Denis made the slightest shrug. “Whoever did the crime is used to battering his victims. He will no doubt be caught for a similar occurrence.”

  “The Derwents deserve the truth,” I said stubbornly.

  Denis gazed at me for a long time. “It is you who seek the truth, Captain. You feel responsible, but that is foolish.”

  I thought back to my conversation with Gareth the afternoon before the terrible deed had happened. I’d been adamant about extricating myself from the affair and bidding him and Leland to have nothing to do with me. I’d told Gareth to make up his differences with Leland, to be friends again. They’d met up that evening and gone out, perhaps to celebrate being together once more.

  If I’d left them alone, hadn’t tried to play peacemaker, only for the selfish reason of keeping them far from my person, perhaps they’d be whole and well now.

  I did not bother to ask Denis how he knew of my guilt. Brewster had likely reported my meetings with Gareth, and even what Gareth and I had discussed.

  “I have regrets,” I said. “And I do not wish to disappoint a family who befriended me when I knew few in London.”

  “They are kind people,” Denis surprised me by saying. “I do not know many who act without a selfish motive, but members of the Derwent family are the exception. I can understand your protectiveness toward them. But we cannot protect everyone from the world. It is impossible.”

  His words were blunt but wise. “That does not mean I sit back and do nothing,” I said. “The Derwents shall have the truth.”

  “As you wish, but you will assist me in closing the Nines. Tell Sir Gideon and his band of reformers that Leland came to grief at that hell, and I will lend you help to find the real villain.”

  “If I deliver the men from the Nines to the magistrates,” I said, “will they listen when I hand them another set of villains who actually did the crime?”

  “They will if the evidence is strong enough. If you wish to appease yourself, Forge, who runs the Nines, is not innocent. He rigs his games, he assaults those who threaten to bring him to court, and he more or less runs a bawdy house. Plenty of reasons to shut him down.”

  I wondered who owned the Nines. Forge himself? Or perhaps it was owned by Denis’s competitor, a woman who called herself Lady Jane. She and Denis had a long-standing rivalry.

  “What sort of help are you lending me?” I asked. “In return for railing about the Nines?”

  Denis indicated Brewster with a nod of his head. “Mr. Brewster can be trusted, and he knows much about the London underworld. He will assist you in anything you need.”

  Brewster, who’d remained stoically by the door, indicated neither pleasure nor dismay at this announcement.

  “I have plenty of connections of my own,” I said. I knew a magistrate, Sir Montague Harris, who was always keen to catch villains, plus a man of the River police I trusted. “Mr. Brewster does not need to bother.”

  “Your ‘connections,’ as you call them, do not know the people I do, or Mr. Brewster does,” Denis said. “Brewster will be assigned to you until you are satisfied that justice has been done. But first, you will make a report about the Nines. I want everyone out of that house by the end of the week.”

  I took my time considering. I could tell Denis to hell with his offer and continue investigating on my own, but it was true that Denis could discover things I could not, and that Brewster could go among villains and come out unscathed. I doubted any denizen of the East End or rookeries around Seven Dials would like to go up against Brewster. Also, I would be happy to see a place like the Nines close, and Denis knew it.

  I’d tried since I’d met him to oppose Denis, and yet, I seemed to end up helping him a great deal. He knew how to play me, how to put his finger directly upon my weaknesses.

  “I will tell Sir Gideon and Sir Montague Harris what I believe happened at the Nines,” I said at last. “What about the Bull and Hen? Would you like that closed too?”

  Denis lifted his brows. “The house where gentlemen go to bed other gentlemen? I have no reason to see it shut down. In fact, if its clientele were arrested, I might feel a pinch. You would be astonished at the names to be found there.”

  Gentlemen in his pocket, I imagined. Denis owned MPs and magistrates—I wondered whether knowing they went to the Bull and Hen was part of his net around them.

  “I would like to find out if Leland and Gareth ended up there last night,” I said. “I imagine you have spies there, if you know so much about its clientele.”

  Denis only watched me. “If I can discover the information without putting those who work for me in jeopardy, you will have it. If there is too much risk of exposure, however, I cannot ask it.”

  I knew I had no say in the matter. Denis would not do a damn thing he did not want to. “I suppose I must be content with that.”

  Denis made no sign that he was pleased with my capitulation. He straightened his gloves. “Then I will bid you good day. Brewster has the key to this house, which you may use as you need it.”

  Without further word, he walked out of the room, lifting his hat from one of the tables as he went. The lackey he’d brought, who’d not said one word since we’d arrived, followed him closely out.

  “Well, sir,” Brewster said once we were alone. “Best be getting on, hadn’t we?”

  I picked up my own hat where I’d dropped it to a chair. “Mr. Denis nev
er consulted you in this, Brewster. If you have no wish to assist me, I will not compel you.”

  Brewster shrugged. “I work for Mr. Denis, don’t I? He gives me a job, I do it. I’d like to finish this one soon, though, if you don’t mind me saying so. I’ve promised the wife a trip to the seaside, when Mr. Denis can spare me.”

  *

  In spite of Brewster wanting to run up and down London to lay his hands on the villains at once, I preferred to return home. It was after noon, I needed to reassure my friends and family that I was well, and I wanted to confer with Grenville.

  The plain coach, which Brewster explained did belong to Mr. Denis, used when he wanted no one to realize he was out and about, took us to Mayfair.

  My wife’s house was one in which Brewster would concede to wait in the kitchens, and I went up to our private parlor alone. Donata was out of bed and dressed, reclining in her favorite place on the divan, and Grenville was with her, seated in an elegant chair.

  When I entered, Donata looked up with relief in her eyes, which she quickly masked. Grenville’s reaction so closely matched hers that for a moment, I wanted to laugh.

  “We feared the rough men of the Nines had spirited you away, old fellow,” Grenville said, rising to greet me. “A message from one of Denis’s chaps that you were being looked after did not relieve me much.”

  Donata sank back, the black and white day gown she wore flowing to the cushions beside her, which she patted. “Do sit down, Gabriel. Barnstable, bring the captain a large quantity of coffee and those cakes he likes so well. I doubt he’s given a thought to a meal.” When Barnstable departed, Donata spread her arm across the back of the divan. “Gabriel, tell us everything.”

  These were the two people in my life I’d learned to keep nothing from. I sat next to Donata, the fold of her skirt now over my leg. I talked, telling them what had happened since I’d followed Bertha from the card room of the Nines.

  Donata’s gaze rested upon me when I finished. “And will you?” she asked. “Shut down the Nines for Mr. Denis?”

  I shrugged. “It is a bad place.”

  “You have no guarantee he will not make it a worse one,” Donata said. “Whatever shall you do, Gabriel?” She was not admonishing me; she was stating a fact.

  “My choice is not much of a choice,” I admitted. “Do I ignore the place, and have it continue cheating its customers and beating them when they complain? Or let Denis run it?”

  Grenville tapped his fingertips together. “You could report to the magistrates that Denis means to have it. Montague Harris might be able to stop the sale.”

  “Possibly. Possibly not. He might also believe the house is better off under Denis’s control.”

  “Or,” Grenville said delicately. “You could report the matter to Mr. Spendlove.”

  Spendlove yearned to stop Denis and his empire by any means necessary. Of course, he’d be sure to drag me into the matter right alongside Denis. “I dislike being caught between the two men,” I said, my temper stirring. “Why they cannot leave me in peace is unfathomable.”

  “You are a loose cannon, my friend,” Grenville said. “When you charge about, there is no telling exactly what will happen.”

  I did not know whether to be indignant or to laugh. “Denis has called me that before. Is that your opinion as well?”

  Grenville raised his hands in surrender. “A mere observation to explain their interest in you. I must admit that there is no telling what will happen around you. It is why I befriended you in the first place.”

  Grenville had made no bones about telling me in the early days of our friendship that he had sought my acquaintance because he found me refreshingly interesting. I’d also foiled a burglary at his house, which had won me his respect and gratitude.

  “This discussion is bringing me no closer to a decision,” I said. “But I think it is clear. I will report what I’ve learned to Sir Gideon and Sir Montague, and no doubt they will make things happen. Sir Gideon will want to know exactly what happened to his son.”

  “Will you tell him all of it?” Grenville asked.

  Donata knew what we meant. I had told her, as we’d lain twined together, how I’d found Leland and Travers.

  “I swore to Leland I would keep his secret,” I said with a sigh.

  “I would not be surprised if Sir Gideon already suspected the lay of the land with his son,” Donata said. “But I do not believe knowing exactly how you found them would be of any comfort to him.”

  “Did you know?” I asked her. “When I was suggesting him as a potential husband for Gabriella, did you know what an idiot I was?”

  Donata leaned to fetch a cigarillo from a gilded box on the table beside her. “I had suspected Gareth and Leland of having a passion for each other, as have most of the ton. This sometimes happens with young men thrown very close together in their lives. They might grow out of it as they make their way in the world, but even if they do not, their proclivities should not prevent them making a good marriage. An astonishing number of married gentlemen take lovers, male or female, sometimes both. My objections to Leland were purely based on his character, and I have not changed my mind.” Donata closed the cigarillo box, rolled the dark stick between her fingers, and gave me a fond look. “I forget that you are unfashionable enough to consider possible infidelity as a bar to marriage.”

  “And we like you for it,” Grenville said quickly. “But it makes you rather singular in our set.”

  The discussion discomfited me. “I am sorry to hear I am so unique. Marriage vows should mean something.” Especially those involving my daughter, I added silently.

  “Again, we like you for it,” Grenville said. “My own father forgot his vows ten minutes after the ceremony. He could not keep his trousers buttoned for half a day, as I heard it. When I meet a lady I fancy, I have to quiz her about her antecedents before I consider any sort of liaison, for fear my father sired her.”

  Donata chuckled appreciatively. Her own husband had been unfaithful to the point of parading his mistresses through the house under Donata’s nose.

  “I believe I will keep my silence about Leland to his father,” I said. “For now. What about you, Grenville? Were you able to pry any more information from those at the Nines? And what about this man, Mackay? Has anyone heard of him?”

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Not a thing about Mackay,” Grenville said, shaking his head. He lifted a delicate teacup that was nearly lost in his hand, but he held it with the carefulness of a gentleman used to handing fragile things. “As for Percy Saunders, when Leland started making a fuss in the Nines, Saunders took himself to the far corner of the room, not wanting anyone to remember they’d come in together.”

  “Bloody coward,” I muttered.

  “Quite,” Donata said crisply. “Percy Saunders never had much to recommend him. Too fond of pushing the blame for things onto others.”

  Barnstable broke our discussion at that moment by bringing in steaming coffee for me and a large platter nearly covered with teacakes. I thanked him politely, though I wasn’t hungry, and the coffee Brewster’s wife had given me had been excellent. Barnstable liked to coddle me, and I’d learned that he grew hurt if I objected. He presented me with the tray and then bowed and took his leave.

  “We are not much further forward,” I said, lifting a currant-laden cake onto a plate with silver tongs. I knew the staff would not be happy if I didn’t eat some of the spread. “We must account for what happened after Leland and Travers left the Nines. So far, Leland remembers nothing, and there is no way to know whether he will regain the memories or not.”

  “Denis has a man inside the Bull and Hen, you say?” Grenville also took a cake, handling the tongs with an air of long practice. “What tales that fellow must tell.”

  I had no doubt that Denis used the information to tighten his hold upon many a man of power. “Denis indicated that he will not have his contact asking questions if he feels it will be too great a risk to
him. We might have to discover what happened ourselves, after all.”

  “As we discussed, it is a bad idea if either of us go inside,” Grenville began. “However, I—”

  “I could go,” Donata said.

  Grenville broke off, his mouth still open. Both of us stared at her as she took a pull of her cigarillo, its end crackling quietly as it glowed orange-red.

  “I could dress as a young man.” Smoke weaved around Donata as she spoke. “Go in, play cards, drop Leland’s name, listen to the response.”

  “No!” Grenville and I said at the same time.

  Grenville recovered first. “Dear lady, it would be far too dangerous, no matter how good your disguise. They will not know you and consider you fresh blood. You would never be left in peace.”

  Grenville articulated better than I did when I was in a fury, but now I let my words fly. “It is a damn fool idea, Donata. They would take you aside and have at you, without bothering to discover whether you were male first. In the dark, drunk, they might not realize their mistake until too late. I forbid it.”

  Anger flared in Donata’s eyes at the word forbid. “If you would let me continue, gentlemen, I said it in jest.” She flicked ashes into a porcelain bowl with an irritated jerk of her fingers. “I did such a thing not long after I was first married—a dear friend and I dressed up as men and went to a hell. It was one of the most entertaining nights of my life. Not one gentleman there suspected us—they were far too engrossed in play and the sort of women who did float about there. We emerged unscathed.”

  The story did nothing to calm me, and I was not convinced Donata had spoken in jest at first. She’d looked a bit too eager. My wife had a lively curiosity and a bold courage that made my blood run cold.

  “Very courageous of you,” Grenville said, his neutral voice what we needed to smooth over the moment. “I have a better idea for infiltration—I will search among my acquaintances I know to be of Leland’s mind, and try to find one who knows a bit about the place. One might have been there that night, or knows someone who was.”