Madman's Dance (Time Rovers #3)(65)

“He arrived without an invitation and insisted he had to speak to my mistress. When I said she was willing to meet with him, he demanded to know if there was a party in progress.”

“Why?”

“Said he didn’t want to be there if there was.”

“Now that’s singular. Most of us like a good knees-up.” Chuckles in the room. “Why would Sergeant Keats not want to attend Miss Hallcox’s soiree?”



“I don’t know,” Landis replied, his fingers drumming nervously in his lap.

“What was the nature of this…gathering?”

The butler’s eyes widened at the word. It told him Wescomb knew precisely the nature of that evening. “It was…”

“Go on.”

“It was a…” He coughed, a haunted expression spreading across his face.

“We are waiting, Mr. Landis,” Wescomb prodded. No reply. “Perhaps I shall assist. Was this a debauchery, sir?”

Landis nodded stiffly as murmurs spread through the courtroom.

“How many were present?” Wescomb quizzed.

“About thirty or so.”

“Is that the usual number for one of Miss Hallcox’s parties?”

“About. Sometimes it was more, others less.”

“Were these participants above the age of consent?” Wescomb asked, his voice suddenly brittle. A collective gasp came from the audience at the implication.

“Of course,” the butler replied swiftly.

“Well, at least that’s a relief. You said Sergeant Keats emphatically stated he did not want to be at one of these events. Had he been to one before?”

Keats’ heart double beat. It was fortunate that Nicci burned through servants as fast as she did lovers, or someone might have remembered him from all those years ago, en mirage or not.

“Not that I know of,” the butler replied.

Keats exhaled silently.

“Still, it sounds as if Sergeant Keats was aware of your mistress’ reputation and had no desire to be tainted by it.”

Excellent!

“I object, my lord,” Arnett said, rising. “He’s leading the witness.”

“I agree,” the judge ruled.

“I shall take more care in future, my lord,” Wescomb replied politely. He turned his attention to the witness once again. “What was the sergeant’s reaction when you ushered them into the room where this orgy was unfolding?”



“He was very angry. He began to look for a way out. He seemed very worried about the young lady who was with him.”

“I can imagine. Your mistress spoke with them?” A nod. “Did you overhear their conversation?” Another nod. “Please tell us what it entailed.”

“My mistress was upset that he wanted to ask her questions instead of participating.”

“So he was on official business?”

“I can’t say that for sure. I didn’t hear much beyond that. I was called away to refresh the drinks.”

“Ah yes, I would guess that bacchanals are thirsty work.” There were chortles in the courtroom, earning Wescomb a scowl from Justice Hawkins. “How soon did they leave?”

“Almost immediately.”

“They did not participate in any manner?”

“No.”

“Let’s step forward to Saturday, the day of the murder. Please give us an account of who visited your mistress in the last…oh, twelve hours before her death.”

The butler paled. “But—”

“No need to reveal his name, Mr. Landis.”

“Her first visitor was…a lord at about half past three.”

“An elderly lord in his late eighties, was he not?” Wescomb asked.

“Yes.”

Turning toward the gallery, Wescomb delivered a knowing smile. “Such stamina at his age. I tip my hat to the man.”

Keats joined in the light laughter that rippled through the crowd. It was a masterful moment.

“Who else paid calls on Miss Hallcox that day?” Wescomb asked, not missing a beat.

“A banker at half past five, and then the sergeant.”

“Was Sergeant Keats expected that evening?”



“My mistress did send him a note.”

“When?”

“At approximately six.”

“Filling in her social schedule, was she?”

“I don’t think so, sir. She usually didn’t send her gents any letters.”

“Then how did she arrange these assignations?”

“Spoke with them directly.”

“So the note to Sergeant Keats was something unusual?”

“Yes.”

“Did you see what it contained?”

“No.”

“Come now, we all know that domestic staff peek at their employer’s correspondence.”

“I didn’t. Neither did Tilly.”

“That’s Miss Ellis, the lady’s maid?” A nod. “Was that Saturday a particularly busy day for Miss Hallcox?”

“A bit busier than normal, sir.”

“What color is the elderly lord’s hair?”

Landis delivered a startled look. “Silver-white.”