Madman's Dance (Time Rovers #3)(64)
Fisher blinked rapidly, unaccustomed to Ramsey’s rebellious streak. “As far as I am concerned, Inspector, you are pursuing Desmond Flaherty and the explosives. I will expect your reports to reflect that, no matter your actual activities.”
Ramsey smiled grimly. “I knew you’d see it my way, sir.”
“Please take care, Martin. Your future at the Yard is at stake.”
Ramsey’s fury dampened. “I know, sir. If Warren’s pulling back on your reins, I wonder how high this goes.”
Fisher tapped the list where it sat on his desk.
“Assume it goes all the way to the top.”
~??~??~??~
Keats studied the man who had put him in the dock. There wasn’t much to be said about Nicci’s butler: middle-aged, eyes glassy, hands with a fine tremor. An alcoholic devoted to his debauched mistress. He might feel sympathy for the fellow if the tables had been turned.
Arnett started right in. “Mr. Landis, how long had you been in the employ of Miss Hallcox?”
“Um, ah, a little over a year, sir,” Landis replied, his voice like gravel.
“Enjoyed your service, did you?”
“It had its good points,” the butler allowed.
Her liquor cabinet, for one.
“Was she a fair employer?”
“Yes, as they go.”
“Paid you well?” Arnett asked.
“Yes.”
“As Lord Wescomb has pointed out, apparently she was very social.”
The butler’s face turned crimson. “Yes,” he affirmed tersely. Keats leaned forward in the dock, watching the man intently.
“The Friday evening before her murder, Miss Hallcox hosted a party.”
The butler shifted his position in the witness box, uncomfortable. “Yes.”
“What was the nature of that soiree?”
“Umm…a costume party, sir.”
“Everyone was in costume?”
“Yes.”
Costume? Hardly. That’s not the way Keats remembered it. Dryads and queens, satyrs and other mythological beasts all cheerfully ravaging each other in a haze of opium and too much alcohol. It was a nightmare he would never forget.
“Was the prisoner in costume as well?”
“Ah, no. Neither he nor his female companion.”
“Female companion?” Arnett quizzed, feigning surprise. “What was her name?”
“She didn’t give it out.”
“Tell us what happened that night when the prisoner arrived.”
“He acted in a belligerent fashion, demanding to see my mistress.”
“What did you do?”
“I asked her if she was willing to receive him. My mistress agreed. They spoke for a few minutes, and then he left.”
“And his companion?”
“She left with him.”
“Let’s move ahead to the night of the murder. You said the prisoner visited earlier in the evening. How long did he stay?”
“Only a few minutes.”
“How many? Two, five, ten?”
“Five, if that. He was out of there like a shot, and very angry.”
“Ah, yes, in your statement you indicate he left in a fine fury. Did he say anything?”
The butler glowered in Keats’ direction. “He said my mistress was an abomination and that the Devil would claim her soul someday.”
Trust the fool to remember every word.
“How dramatic,” Arnett remarked. “Did that sound like a threat to you, Mr. Landis?”
“It did.”
Before Wescomb could object, the Crown Prosecutor continued, “During his second visit that very evening, you stated the prisoner entered the house without your knowledge. Was the front door left unbolted?”
“No.”
“Did the sergeant have a key?”
“Not likely.”
“Did your mistress let him in?”
“My mistress did not greet guests at the door,” the butler replied tartly.
Arnett’s eyebrow went up. “Then how did he get inside the house? That is a puzzle, isn’t it?”
“Yes, sir.”
The lock picks? Surely, Arnett wouldn’t dare suggest he’d broken into the house like a common criminal?
The Crown Prosecutor gave a pleased nod. “Thank you, sir. That will be all.”
Wescomb rose. “Mr. Landis, how long have you been a butler?”
“Five years.”
“How many positions have you held during that time?”
Landis instantly went crimson and tugged at his collar. “Six.”
“Why so many? Better opportunities?”
“Yes,” he responded quickly.
“Your previous positions have been terminated because of your fondness for drink, is that not correct?”
“One or two.”
“I have letters from each of your former employers, and they say—”
“All right, all of them.”
“Were you drinking before your mistress’ body was discovered?”
“I might have had a drop.”
“Of course. On the night of the party, you state that Sergeant Keats acted in a belligerent fashion. Could you explain further?”