She waited for Sam to object. But the detective nodded. “Aye. That’s sound thinking, miss.”
She continued, “As I said, we considered men that fit the general profile—affluent, between twenty-five and forty-five. That’s when this type of killer hits their prime. The Duke and I then eliminated anyone who is not a landowner or doesn’t have access to property. We further narrowed the field by removing all the locals who never or rarely visited London. Finally, we crossed off any men who aren’t currently in residence because they’re traveling abroad. That leaves us with eight possibilities within the ten-mile radius. We need to find out where they were on the night of the murder.”
“’Tis a process of elimination—a logical approach.” The Duke nodded in approval.
Sam gave Kendra a thoughtful look. “’Tis an approach that’s worked well for the Runners.”
“Since Mr. Dalton has no alibi for the time in question, I assume he must remain on your list of suspects,” Rebecca commented, earning a surprised glance from Sam.
“You actually asked the guv—er, the gent where he was on the night of the murder?”
“No. Miss Donovan made the inquiry. I fear he was displeased.”
“Imagine that,” Alec murmured.
Kendra ignored the sarcasm. “I’d like to check into Mr. Dalton’s background. His wife left him for another man—I’d like to learn more about that, and about what she looked like.”
Sam eyed her curiously. “You think she may resemble the lasses?”
“May have, past tense. Mr. Dalton’s wife died—another thing to be explored. How’d she die? And when?”
“I’ll have one of me men look at Mr. Dalton’s background,” Sam agreed.
“His family is from Manchester,” the Duke told him.
“Thank you, sir. I’ll send someone up north ter make inquiries.” Sam rubbed his nose. “I can return ter London Town ter continue my inquiries at the brothels, but I’d just as soon stay here ter help with the investigation. If you’re interviewing the gents, I can talk ter the servants and like.”
“You might want to start at the King’s Head,” Alec said abruptly.
Kendra stared at him in surprise. She hadn’t expected him to volunteer that information.
His gaze was cool as he met hers. “I don’t believe my brother committed these atrocities, Miss Donovan, and I intend to prove it by having his alibi confirmed. I won’t have his reputation besmirched by the vile suspicion that he is a killer.”
Aldridge leaned forward, looking at both of them. “Gabriel? What does he have to do with this business, pray tell?”
“He and Captain Harcourt left the castle after the dinner on Sunday evening to attend Hawkings’s cockfight,” Alec told his uncle. “If you recall, the publican has a cockpit behind his tavern.”
“Yes. I had not realized they left the castle that night. But surely you don’t think Gabriel—”
Kendra cut him off sharply. “No one can be ruled out unless they have a verifiable alibi.” She was afraid, she realized, very afraid that they’d let their personal bias dictate the investigation. She couldn’t let that happen.
Aldridge frowned at her. “It is entirely plausible that Gabriel is telling the truth, my dear. I am not an admirer of the blood sport of cockfighting. ’Tis gruesome business to watch an animal literally peck the eyes out of another. But I understand it is a lucrative venture for Hawkings. Many attend. There is no reason to think Gabriel did not.”
“I’m not thinking anything. That’s my point. We must approach this rationally rather than subjectively.”
“What about being presumed innocent until proven guilty, as Sir William Garrow so eloquently argued?” Rebecca asked. “Should we not give Lord Gabriel the benefit of the doubt?”
“He’s not on trial. We’re . . .” Kendra didn’t know what to say. Law enforcement? Only she and Sam Kelly belonged to that group. And she still wasn’t entirely sure about Sam Kelly’s position. He seemed to understand basic police procedure, but Bow Street Runners were paid by their clients, not the citizenry of the town they were sworn to serve and protect. At the moment, he was being paid by Aldridge. Because of that, he might not be entirely objective when he dealt with the Duke’s nephew.
“I’m feelin’ a might thirsty for a good English ale,” Sam declared suddenly, and stood up, effectively ending the argument. “I think I’ll go ter the King’s Head.”
“Very good, Mr. Kelly.” After the Runner left, Aldridge searched his desk until he found the list of names tucked in the ledger. “Now we must go over the names again. Mayhap Alec and Rebecca will have suggestions . . .” He spread the foolscap in front of him. “Then we will divide up the names between us, and conduct the interviews. Does that meet with your approval, Miss Donovan?”
It would have to.