“How are you doing?” Alec asked. He’d known the captain before he’d lost his arm, when their lives had intersected on the Continent during the war. Afterward, the captain, disabled and discharged, had opened the Red Devil. Alec knew Lawlor was making a fortune from the enterprise, but he couldn’t help but wonder if there was something more involved here, since the majority of Lawlor’s customers were wealthy aristocrats who’d spent the war years arguing in Parliament about strategy, never setting foot on the battlefield.
Now the captain shrugged. “Plummy, for a one-finned fellow, I suppose.” He tossed back the whiskey. “But it’s the damnedest thing. There are times when I could swear my fingers on my left hand were itching like the very devil.”
“I’ve heard of the phenomenon.” Alec waited until the other man settled into the chair behind his desk, before coming right to it. “Arthur Weston, the Viscount Dawson—is he under the hatches?”
“Dawson . . .” Lawlor eyed Alec across the desk. “Has this anything to do with Lady Dover’s murder?”
“Why do you ask?”
Lawlor looked amused. “I’m missing an arm, Sutcliffe, not my brain—or my ears. Men are no different than women when it comes to gossip. Mayhap even worse, since their mouths become unhinged so easily when they’re foxed. There has been talk that the House of Lords is considering charging you for the lady’s murder.”
“I did not—”
“You don’t have to convince me, Sutcliffe. During war, one becomes adept at reading characters.” He paused, and then gave another one of his sardonic smiles. “And in a gaming hell.”
“I can imagine.”
The smile vanished. “I’ve heard what was done to Lady Dover,” Lawlor said. “I do not believe you are responsible.”
Alec inclined his head. “Well, thank you for that.”
“Unfortunately, I don’t know if your fellow noblemen will see it the same way.”
“Which is why I’m being forced to investigate on my own.”
“You and the Duke of Aldridge. And his ward . . . an American. A woman.”
Alec stared at the other man. “What have you heard about Miss Donovan?”
The captain smiled again, this time slyly. “As I said, men gossip. They say she could be a pretty thing, but too much of a bluestocking and too outspoken and too damned odd. Then again most of the rakes who haunt the hells won’t care if she’s touched in the head. As the Duke’s ward, they may have expectations of a fortune.”
Alec scowled. “Men have been talking about marrying her?”
Lawlor cocked his head and regarded the Marquis with interest. “Do you have expectations there yourself, my lord? It would certainly be clever to keep the Duke’s fortune in the family.”
“I’m not here to gossip about Miss Donovan.”
“Of course not. You want to gossip about Viscount Dawson.” He lifted the glass to his lips and took another sip. “As to that, yes. The foolish pup has found himself with his pockets to let. I’ve heard the entire family is dipping their toe into River Tick. Weston has had some bad investments lately. Not impoverished, mind you. But their country estate is undoubtedly looking a tad shabby these days. They married off two of their daughters and continue to dangle the last daughter in front of Lord Ludlow, but I fear the scandal regarding the Weston family necklace has frightened the fellow off. He’s a straitlaced old sod.”
“If the family is in financial difficulties, what is Dawson using for credit?”
“He had a small inheritance from his maternal grandmother, which he’s undoubtedly blown through by now. The fool plays deep, hoping to recoup his losses, and—”
“And ends up losing more,” Alec supplied. It was all too common in the Ton, like a sickness they couldn’t control.
“I think he may have sold a few family heirlooms to get the blunt to use at the tables. Mayhap that’s why he was in such a dither about his father giving the Weston necklace to Lady Dover.”
“Why hasn’t Weston stopped him?”
“Weston’s been a bit preoccupied,” Lawlor remarked with a cynical glint in his eyes. “I believe the plan is for his son to marry well.”
“An heiress.”
“It’s what polite society does. Unfortunately, Dawson has become tainted goods because of his father’s rather public association with Lady Dover. I’d heard he was in a temper about the whole thing, even said some unflattering things about the lady in question. He was well into his cups, but I believe he wished her to Jericho.”
Alec gazed at the other man. “It’s one thing to talk. It’s another thing to do what was done to the Countess.”
The captain dropped his eyes and contemplated the glass he was holding. “Dawson is spoiled and immature and he has a violent temper when pressed—or when he’s had a run of bad luck,” he finally said, and looked back to Alec. “I think he can be a nasty piece of work, in the right circumstance. But I also think he’s the kind to sneak up on you in a dark alley.”
Or attack a defenseless woman in her home? Alec wondered, but kept that to himself.
“I’ve had Lord Weston in here as well, you know,” Lawlor said suddenly. “I can see where the son gets his temper.”
“Weston can be violent?”
“He accused a man of cheating and planted him a facer right at the card table. I think he would’ve done a hell of a lot more if two of my lads hadn’t stopped him.”
“Was the man that Weston went after a Captain Sharp?”
Lawlor shrugged. “Possibly.”
“If the man was cheating him, one can hardly blame the Earl for being provoked into violence.”
“What is more interesting is that I’d heard the gambler was attacked several days later in one of the more unsavory neighborhoods in London. Beaten pretty badly.”
Alec silently absorbed the unspoken implication. Then he said, “You believe Weston did it?”
“Maybe. Or hired someone. I don’t know. I don’t care for the man myself.” He gave another shrug, this one slightly embarrassed. “He appears the gentleman, but there’s bad blood there, I think. I can’t explain it.”
“Do you think he could have killed Lady Dover?”
Lawlor drained the rest of his whiskey before answering. “Possibly. You and I have both seen men—even gentlemen—do things that are hard to credence. Vicious, vile things.”
“In the lust of war,” Alec countered, but something inside him tightened.
“Not always. Sometimes people do ugly things when they feel threatened or cornered. Sometimes they commit violence because they feel wronged, and they want revenge. I think you know all these things, milord.”
Alec said nothing for a moment. Then he pushed himself to his feet. “Thank you, Captain. You’re insight is invaluable.”
Lawlor got to his feet as well and walked him to the door. There, Alec paused. “The father or the son—who do you think could have killed Lady Dover?”
Lawlor didn’t hesitate. “If I had to bet, my money would be on Weston.” He cocked his head and smiled at Alec. “Keep in mind that I’m the owner of a gaming hell, my lord—and the house usually wins.”
37