Page 79 of Murder in Blackfriars

“And what did they say?” I demanded.

Daniel laid down his fork, his face settling into serious lines. “Draper, Barlow, and every single gent we asked swore up and down they had nothing to do with Banks’s death. They confessed to everything else—changing the paperwork for the ships, stealing the goods, selling them on, blackmailing those in the shipping offices and on the docks because they’d lost heavily in Draper’s gaming house. But not to killing Banks. That, every one of them protested, in amazement, no less, they had not done it. Hadn’t even realized Banks was anywhere near that day.” Daniel sighed, regarding me limply. “The thing is, Kat, I believe them.”

26

“All of them deny it?” I asked in shock. “That can’t be.”

“I’m afraid so.” Daniel idly turned his teacup in its saucer. “None of them are trustworthy, no, but I’ve noted that a villain will most indignantly protest he did not do a crime he is truly innocent of, even when he’s guilty of so many others.”

“Oh, dear.” I deflated. “I was certain Mr. Draper had him killed. Mr. Banks must have known about the smuggling ring, but as he seemed an honest man, he was murdered to keep his silence.”

“A very good theory.” Daniel nodded. “But until we can find the evidence of it, we must unfortunately discard it.”

“At least Mr. Naismith will be pleased.” I rested my elbows on the table and lifted my teacup for a disgruntled sip. “You’ve rid him of a problem so that he can continue his own criminal ventures unimpeded.”

“I did not do this to helphim,” Daniel said easily. “We just happened to have the same ambition at the same moment.Now that I have done him a favor, he will owe me one, which is how I prefer things to be.”

Of course. Daniel would never have agreed to assist Mr. Naismith, even to save himself or me or his friends, without somehow turning the situation to his advantage.

“If he will uphold his end of the bargain,” I said darkly.

“He will.”

Daniel’s grim conviction was chilling.

I set down my cup. “Then I think we should look more closely at Mr. Ramsay,” I said, to return to our main topic. I told him what Albie had reported, that Ramsay too had probably lost in Mr. Draper’s gaming house. “Ramsay might have had a quarrel with Mr. Banks, followed him that day—or lured him down to the docks—and killed him. Or killed him to get his hands on the medal, which could fetch some money. It might be about nothing more than theft, after all.”

“A man at the wrong place at the wrong time.” Daniel became thoughtful. “The question remains, why was Banks in that wrong place? Grimes said he went across the bridge, heading for the pub, but then diverted into the lanes leading to the docks and disappeared.”

An awful thought occurred to me. “You don’t suppose Mr. Grimes had anything to do with it? I shouldn’t like to think so, but we only have his word that Mr. Banks vanished among the warehouses and then turned up dead.”

The cheerful Mr. Grimes, who’d saved my life earlier this year, and had spirited me away from the scene of the crime before the constables could arrest me, was, in fact, a hardened criminal himself. I never asked him why he avoided police stations as adamantly as he did, but presumably because inspectors would wish to interrogate him about some past crime or other.

“I do hope not,” Daniel said. “Though I’m certain if he did, he’d have made himself very scarce. I feared that was why I couldn’t lay hands on him a week or so ago, but it turned out Errol had commandeered him.” He heaved a sigh. “I really don’t know. I don’tthinkhe did, but I would have to ask him point-blank.”

“Mr. Grimes had no reason to kill him.” I tried to cheer myself up with that point. “I can’t think of any, that is.”

“They were both from South London. Who knows what sort of connection they might have had? As I say, all I can do is ask him.”

“Please don’t,” I said quickly. “I don’t want to offend him. Mr. Grimes is a good man, and we are only speculating, because we don’t have another solution.”

“I agree. I owe him much.” Daniel reached for my hand. “We will not bother him about it unless we can find no other answer. I prefer the culprit to be Ramsay. He is hiding something, though it might simply be money he owed Banks that he doesn’t want the heirs collecting. But I don’t trust him.”

“He did not seem as grieved as he made out to be,” I said. “We might wrong him, but perhaps Acting Inspector Scott could have a word with him.”

Daniel’s lips twitched. “That would send a cold wind down Ramsay’s spine, wouldn’t it? I will do more poking around in Banks’s old haunts and see what I can turn up.”

“Good.” I released his hand to slide my notebook over to me. “While you were busy chasing criminals—thank you very much for not getting hurt while doing so—I have been thinking over our other mystery. The mystery of you, I mean.”

Color eased into Daniel’s cheeks. “I’ve decided to forget about it. We know Banks meant to tell me about Mrs. Kerr, but whether or not I was one of her strays, there is no way ofknowing. Your idea of the picture book I think won’t help either. Too many random pieces of information, not enough specific ones. Besides, we don’t know for certain exactly what Banks was going to tell us. We only have Ramsay’s guess.”

I sent Daniel an impatient frown. “Well, if you are going to simply give up, clear off so the rest of us can work on the problem.”

“Kat—”

“Your friends are being very diligent for you,” I said with vigor. “Do not dismiss them. I know that you pretend to be resigned because you don’t want to be disappointed.”

“Yes, because I have been disappointed so often,” Daniel returned. “When I was a lad, I believed Carter was my father. I imagined he’d lost track of me, and that’s when Compton picked me up. When I got away from Compton, and Carter found me, all was well. I nursed that version of my life for years before accepting that it wasn’t true.”