‘Because we have a certain local notoriety?’ she said.
‘Because you have an unusual reputation for the solving of mysteries and you give the impression of being the sort of women who would fight for justice, no matter what the consequences for the rich and powerful. In short, you seem like decent folk and, as far as I have been able to ascertain, you have no involvement in local politics. You might work for His Majesty’s Government for all I know, but you’re above the cesspit of petty squabbles and grubby corruption that calls itself our “city council”.’
‘Politics is a murky world, Mr Brookfield, and it always has been.’
‘I’m not so naive as to think otherwise,’ he said, slightly defensively. ‘But that doesn’t mean we should accept it. It doesn’t mean that we should allow the venal, the power-hungry, and the privileged to feather their nests at the expense of the honest working man.’
‘It happens that I agree with you,’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘Though I wonder how you manage to square your disdain for privilege with your desire to seek my help. Surely a titled lady with a private income is entirely the sort of person whom you despise.’
‘You imagine yourself privileged, my lady?’ he said. ‘For whom did you vote in the last general election?’
‘Touché,’ she said. ‘Well, then. Are we right to assume that the late Mr Morry was the subject of one of your investigations into council corruption?’
‘I have investigated many members of the council,’ he said. ‘I have uncovered the illicit dealings of a great many rogues, but I found that Mr Morry was not one of them. He was certainly no saint, but he was that rarest of creatures, the honest and principled politician. Wealthy, generous, respected, and now very dead.’
‘It was murder, you think?’
‘I know,’ he said. ‘I was listening to the witnesses as they gave their accounts to the constable. One of them said they saw a scuffle on the flat roof of the building and then saw Morry pushed off. He was somehow caught on the top of the tram wire post and must have thought himself saved. But you saw for yourselves that he was far from safe.’
‘Whom do you suspect?’ I asked.
He turned to look at me, seeming slightly surprised that I had finally spoken. ‘During the course of my investigations I found that he had many enemies, Miss Armstrong, any of whom might have wanted him dead. For the past six years, for instance, he had been conducting a discreet, but not-so-secret love affair with the wife of Oswald Craine, the coffee importer in whose shop we’re drinking; perhaps he finally tired of playing the cuckold and had the councillor bumped off. He had lent the Honourable James Stansbridge, third son of the Earl of Keynsham, many hundreds of pounds to pay off gambling debts; perhaps he or his family had tired of being beholden to a mere councillor and decided upon a drastic means of cancelling the debt. Council elections are coming up in June; perhaps Redvers Hinkley, his bitter rival, found a way of guaranteeing his own victory and finally securing a seat on the council.’
‘Quite a list,’ I said.
‘And not an exhaustive one,’ said the young journalist. ‘Morry might have been an adulterer and a friend of fops and dandies in his private life, but he was noisily ethical in his political dealings. He voiced his opposition to a number of lucrative, but exploitative schemes; a number of businessmen and local politicians would benefit from his passing.’
‘But,’ said Lady Hardcastle, ‘why not take your suspicions and such evidence as you have already collected directly to the police? Surely they are best equipped to deal with such matters.’
‘I approached the inspector shortly after he had spoken to you,’ he said. ‘But he refused to speak to me. He was perfectly civil about it, but he left me in no doubt that I should leave this one alone. He saw me looking over towards you and said that you’d been told the same thing.’
‘We were indeed.’
‘And do you intend to do as you’re told?’ he said, belligerently.
‘You know,’ she said after a moment’s thought, ‘this time I thought we might. I have great respect for Inspector Sunderland, and if he thinks that our involvement in the case will cause more problems than it solves, then I for one trust his judgement. My plan was to stroll to the bottom of Park Street, order a new hat, and then go home. I was hoping to be able to read about the case in the newspaper tomorrow.’
Mr Brookfield’s manner changed abruptly. ‘And that’s all?’ he said. ‘I’ve told you it’s a murder, I’ve told you I have a list of suspects – all with excellent motives – and you’re just going to buy a hat?’
‘And possibly some gloves,’ she said, calmly.
‘You were right,’ he said, getting up. ‘You are just a pampered, privileged idler. I thought you a woman of principles, a fighter for justice, but you’re just another one of them.’ He all but spat the last word. ‘You can pay for your own coffee.’ And with that, he stormed out.
‘Charming,’ said Lady Hardcastle, taking another sip of her drink. ‘Still, at least it’s coffee worth paying for.’
With our coffee drunk, we set off once more in the direction of Park Street and the milliner’s shop that Lady Farley-Stroud had recommended. Away from the scene of the tragedy, life carried on as usual and the people obliviously passing us by would be quite unaware of the incident until they read about it in tomorrow’s newspaper.
‘Did you mean what you said, my lady?’ I asked.
‘About what, pet?’
‘About keeping our noses out of the murder.’
‘Well, now, there’s a quandary,’ she said. ‘On the one hand I do love a mystery; on the other hand, I value our friendship with dear Inspector Sunderland. On the other hand–’
‘You have three hands?’ I suggested.
‘We have four between us, Clever Clogs. On the other hand, Mr Brimstone…?’
‘Brookfield, my lady.’
‘That’s the fellow,’ she said. ‘Mr Brookfield seemed like a chap with a conscience and a fair amount of knowledge, I do wonder if joining his crusade might be for the greater good.’
‘We parted on bad terms,’ I said.
‘He did turn on us rather sharply, didn’t he. A mercurial fellow, certainly.’
‘Trustworthy, do you think?’
‘After all these years I’m not certain that anyone is entirely trustworthy, pet.’
‘And if the police are already working on it, what value would we add? Especially if we get in the way and cause trouble for Inspector Sunderland.’
‘Well, now, you see, that’s the very thing that’s edging me towards sticking my nose in.’
‘Causing trouble for the inspector?’ I said.
‘No, the value that we might add. The inspector says that he’s being closely scrutinized from above. Mr Bramley–’
‘Brookfield, my lady.’
‘That’s what I said. Mr Brookfield spoke of corruption and dirty doings among the great and the not-so-good–’