“A divorce, it would seem. I thought you should know.”
He looked startled for a moment, then burst into laughter. “Oh, she's playing that game again, is she? Stupid female.”
“Again?” I asked.
“She does it every time I stay away too long. Doesn't really want a divorce, of course. She only married me for the title. If the divorce went through, she'd be back to being plain old Aggie Sugg—which was her name before she went on the music hall stage—and that wouldn't suit her at all. So don't worry your pretty little head, my dear. I'll send her a telegram promising to come home like a good boy on the next boat, and all will be forgiven.” He leaned confidentially toward me. “Between the two of us, I rather fear that I've outstayed my welcome in New York. Too many creditors knocking on the door, if you know what I mean.”
“So we may consider your case closed and not proceed any further with it?” I got to my feet.
“Oh, absolutely. I'm running home to Nanny to be a good boy again.” He gave me an endearing grin.
“May I ask your lordship one small question, if you don't think it impertinent of me?” He nodded and wiped egg from his chin with a large damask napkin.
“Would your lordship confirm, confidentially, of course, that you were in a private dining room at Delmonico's with Miss Kitty Le Grange on Monday last?”
The genial countenance changed. He got to his feet too. He was tall—at least six feet—and he towered over me. “What the devil do you want? Blackmail, is that what it's all about? Because you've come to the wrong place if it is. For one thing, I have no funds to pay you and for another, my recent dalliance with Miss Le Grange is common knowledge among the gossipmongers of New York.”
“I assure you that I am not a blackmailer,” I said. “I came here to spare you embarrassment, not to cause it.”
“Then what in blazes do you want?” He was still rattled.
“I am merely trying to put together the pieces of a puzzle that is only coincidentally to do with you and Miss Le Grange. My senior partner went to observe a couple in a private dining room last Monday. Something significant happened to him after he left. So if I knew you were the couple seen at Delmonico's, it would be a great help.”
He ran his hand through his thinning hair. “I can't wemember if we were actually there on Monday night, but it is a place we frequently dine together. So let's assume that we were there. Then what?”
“Then one piece of my puzzle falls into place. I am so sorry to have troubled you, m'lord. I thank you for granting me the interview.”
“Oh, not at all. The pleasure was entirely mine.” He gave a stiff little bow. “Carstairs will show you out.”
As I descended in the elevator I decided that I could cross Lord Edgemont off my list of suspects. He had no motive to kill. He was right: his dalliance with Miss Kitty Le Grange was well-known among New York society. He had run through his money and was about to retreat back to England with his tail between his legs. So nothing Paddy Riley could have discovered would have been a matter of life or death to him—unless, of course, he was a good actor and there was something that I, the bumbling newcomer, had not managed to uncover. Too late now, I decided as the elevator opened on the ground floor and the operator slid back the folding ironwork door for me. I had put my cards on the table. It was now up to Lord Edgemont to make the next move.
Thirteen