An Appetite for Murder (16 page)

‘John’s study is always locked, as I understand is the habit of many gentlemen of business,’ said Alice. ‘I never trouble myself about business matters so it is of no moment to me, but I am sure that if he has any secrets they are there. The only person who has free entry to the study is his valet, Mr Yeldon, who he trusts in everything. He may collude with my husband, but I have been unable to prove it.’

‘Mrs Finn,’ said Frances carefully, ‘can you be quite certain that you are correct in your suppositions? It seems that you have never actually been a witness to anything that might cause you disquiet. Is it possible that your husband may, after all, be blameless?’

‘But it really cannot be denied, Miss Doughty,’ said Alice with some surprise, ‘after all, you have met him and the situation is quite plain for all to see. Why, all my friends comment on it.’

‘They do? What do they say?’ asked Frances, mystified.

‘They tell me that I must speak to him and make him stop. And I have done so, many times, but he denies everything. That is why I have come to you. I must have proof.’

‘Very well,’ said Frances, wondering what it was in Mr Finn’s demeanour that had escaped her notice. ‘I will see what can be done. First of all, I will employ my agents to follow your husband and discover where he goes and whom he meets. They will be able to do so very discreetly and he will never suspect that he is being watched. Since you think that Mr Yeldon is somehow complicit in the matter, and that your husband has polluted your home, he too will be followed. I will receive daily reports on both their activities. In addition, I suggest introducing an agent into your home in the guise of a daily cleaner, a lady who assists me in many cases of a domestic nature and who will make careful observations. Do you have any thoughts about the methods of deception employed by Mr Yeldon? How is he able to satisfy your husband’s requirements without anyone else in the house seeing what is transpiring?’

‘I really can’t say for certain,’ said Mrs Finn, thoughtfully, ‘but I assume that John supplies him with the necessary funds, and he purchases what is needed and brings it to him in his document case.’

Frances paused. She was either about to be subjected to a horror she had never previously known existed or something quite different. ‘Mrs Finn,’ she said carefully, ‘please could you describe to me exactly and very precisely what it is you believe your husband has been doing in secret.’

‘Why, eating of course, what else?’ said Alice, innocently.

‘I see,’ said Frances. She re-read her notes and made a pencil mark through most of them, relieved that Alice appeared to be unaware of her mistake.

‘Does Mr Finn usually take his meals at home, or does he dine out with friends and business associates?’

‘He breakfasts at home, every day, and luncheon also. Usually he dines at home, but there are occasions when he dines with friends. He has always had a hearty appetite, and I fear, takes too little exercise, but in the last few months I have become very concerned for his health and taken a firmer hand in the matter. I know that there are men and women who carry excess fat on their persons without it affecting their comfort and wellbeing, but my husband is not so fortunate, and I have noticed that he moves with less agility than is usual for such a young man. He is only twenty-eight, Miss Doughty, but men more than twice that age are lighter on their feet and more vigorous. Sometimes his digestion is upset and his back gives him pain. Two months ago I instructed cook that henceforward she should only provide light and wholesome food and not too much. He is not allowed the fat of meat, and very little butter. Bread and potatoes are also restricted, and if he is hungry, he is offered vegetables and fruit. Pastry and sweets are never on our table. He has always been moderate in his consumption of wine and I think it does no harm to allow him one glass a day. But he has still failed to reduce his weight and may even have gained a little. I am led to the conclusion that while complying with my wishes when in my company, he makes other arrangements in secret. He may call at the pastrycook’s, or the confectioner’s, or send Mr Yeldon there. Miss Doughty, I love my husband dearly, he is the very best husband any woman could wish for and I do not want him to die as Mr Whibley did, still in the prime of his life. I do not wish to be a widow and the sole guide of two fatherless children.’

‘Does Mr Finn belong to any clubs?’ asked Frances. ‘I understand that many of these establishments pride themselves on providing a generous table.’

‘Not so far as I am aware. In fact, he has never shown any inclination to join a club. He always says they are full of cigar smoke, the smell of which disgusts him, and men drinking to excess, which he never does. He was invited to join the Literati, the Freemasons Lodge, which is very well thought of, and a number of his friends are members, but he declined.’

‘When you task him on the subject of his diet, does he deny that he is eating to excess?’

‘Yes, I am afraid he does,’ replied Alice, unhappily. ‘And that cannot be true. I do not think he means to deceive me, rather I think he may be deceiving himself.’

‘Does he provide an explanation for his corpulence?’ questioned Frances. ‘He commented to me that a little fat does a man no harm, but privately, does he admit to being dangerously overweight?’

‘He admits to being a little plump but he sees nothing wrong in it. He thinks he was just born to be that way and nothing can be done to change it. I have begged him many times to take a cure for my sake, and he has done so, but with very great reluctance. He went to Harrogate once, and another time to Brighton. There was no doubt that it benefitted him, but he said afterwards that he did not enjoy himself and felt faint when he did not have proper food. I doubt that he would be willing to try it again. More recently, I suggested he try banting, but when Mr Whibley died John said that he would not do it, as it would be dangerous. He says it is more healthful to be too fat than too lean.’

‘Mrs Finn,’ said Frances, carefully, ‘I am going to ask you a very impertinent question. It is, I fear, something I am often obliged to do, and I do hope that you will not be offended. Please understand that it is necessary.’

‘Of course,’ said Alice, sitting a little straighter in preparation. ‘What is your question?’

‘You have told me that you suspect you husband of eating more than the meals he receives at home, which is affecting his weight and his health. You would like him to be observed, and that I can do. Can you assure me that this is indeed your only motive for consulting me? I ask this because in the past whenever a wife has asked me to have her husband followed it was never in order to supervise his diet. Bluntly – do you believe that your husband may have a mistress?’

Mrs Finn gasped. ‘Miss Doughty, I am very shocked indeed. I find it hard to believe that respectable Bayswater ladies have any need of the services you describe. Supposing anyone was to suspect that I have come here for that purpose – what might they think? Oh, it is too horrible!’ She put her hands to her cheeks, which had gone pink with shame.

‘I regret,’ said Frances, ‘that as a detective I encounter as a part of my daily work situations that respectable persons would consider to be inconceivable, even impossible. But sadly, they are fact. However, you need not worry about any misunderstanding as regards yourself. Ladies of the most impeccable character often consult me about servant problems, and missing pets, although in such instances they will always mention in their letters what it is that concerns them.’

Alice gazed at her with a new expression, the admiration and wonder replaced by discomfort.

‘You have nothing to fear,’ said Frances. ‘I am not tainted by my profession. Virtue is stronger than wickedness, and most of those who commit crimes are either foolish or arrogant, and so I find them out.’

‘But as a weak woman …’ Alice protested.

‘That is my strength,’ smiled Frances.

The usual arrangements having been decided upon, it was agreed that Sarah would shortly present herself at the Finns’ home and acquaint herself with the domestic arrangements, bringing any messages from Frances directly to Mrs Finn by word of mouth. Fortunately, Alice had sway over all the household arrangements, her husband being very understanding and compliant on the matter.

When Sarah returned, she reported on the funeral of Mrs Sweetman, which through the agency of her nephew had taken place in the main part of All Souls and not where the paupers were usually interred. The only other mourners were Inspector Sharrock, hoping perhaps that the murderer would come to gloat over his work, and Edward Curtis. ‘How dreadful to die so friendless,’ said Frances, ‘and so neglected by her own children.’

‘They might be dead,’ said Sarah, ‘or in America, or in prison,’ her voice holding no hint as to which of these fates she considered to be the worst.

This sombre mood was enlivened soon afterwards. When Frances told Sarah about the interview with Mrs Finn, and the initial confusion as to its subject, she thought her assistant would never stop laughing.

C
HAPTER
T
WELVE

S
arah’s capacity for hard work, carried out thoroughly and without complaint, always excited both wonder and gratitude in Frances. During her day spent under the direction of Mrs Finn, Sarah was to undertake all the heavy cleaning tasks, which would by their nature give her free access to most of the house. As she did so, she was to watch for evidence of food smuggling and secret feasting, make a note of what provisions were ordered, cooked, served and eaten as part of the normal family meals, to see if Mrs Finn’s estimation of her husband’s restraint when eating at home was correct. Frances had also requested that she gain the trust of the other servants and, if at all possible, see inside the study. It was, Frances realised when she had outlined the plan, far more than even Sarah could achieve in a single day. Nevertheless, Sarah departed early with an expression of determination that had rattled many a would-be dissembler.

A letter arrived for Frances from a Dr Jilks of Kensington advising her that he was the medical man who had been attending Mr Whibley, and he had received a note from his friend Dr Adair saying that she wished to speak with him. He was, with some reservations about confidentiality, willing to see her that afternoon. Frances sent a reply confirming the appointment.

Her first call of the day was the offices of the Bayswater Display and Advertising Co. Ltd, where, disappointingly, the proprietors had still failed to reappear. ‘Off makin’ their fortunes,’ said Tom, who, judging from his activity as he marshalled his band of scurrying ‘men’, was already half way to making his own. ‘Oh, Miss Doughty, I did see a sight yesterday!’ he exclaimed suddenly. ‘I was down at Mr Jacobs’, doin’ a job, and I saw such a peach, such a little pearl as I have never seen before in all my life. An’ she is called Pearl which is jus’ the right name an’ all. Turns out she is Mr Jacobs’ niece.’ An expression of bliss passed across his face, which Frances had only previously seen when he was drinking cocoa.

‘How old is the lady?’ asked Frances.

‘She is six,’ said Tom, ‘so she is not growed into a lady yet, but she will do. I don’t mind waitin’, and it’s all to the good really, as when she is old enough to marry I will be a rich man and will deserve her.’

‘You are very ambitious, Tom,’ said Frances.

‘Don’ get nowhere without ambition,’ said Tom.

‘Well, I have a job for you, which will earn you something to take you further on your way.’ Frances described both Mr Finn and Mr Yeldon, and where they were to be found, explaining how they were both to be followed, the former for evidence that he indulged in secret suppers and extra luncheons, and both in case their perambulations involved purchases of pastry and bonbons.

Her next visit of the day was Paddington Green police station. The unfortunate Mr Sweetman was still in the cells, where Edward Curtis and Mr Marsden visited him daily. There had been no further developments, and would be none until the resumed inquest and hearing before the magistrates; however, Frances thought that she might extract useful information from Inspector Sharrock. She also wanted to confront Mr Sweetman about the letter his wife had written to Mr Manley and her thoughts on its implications. Even though her client had impressed her as an honest and truthful man, there might still be actions of which he was ashamed and which he had not therefore described to her. She would also ask if there was anything further he could recall about his conversation with Mr Whibley. Perhaps Whibley had known something about Benjamin and Mary after all, and had hurried away on some errand that was a consequence of that conversation.

At the police station, Frances, who was confident that she and Inspector Sharrock had in the last year achieved an uneasy understanding, was astonished to receive an openly hostile reception. He must have heard her voice when she asked for him at the desk, and came storming out of his office with a face of fury. ‘Miss Doughty, have you taken leave of your senses?’ he thundered. When this produced no response other than a look of surprise, he gestured angrily. ‘You’re to come into my office! Now!’