Page 36 of The Masterful Mr. Montague

Montague arched his brows, then raised a shoulder. “I can’t see why he would—at least not over what we’ve let fall to this point. All he knows regarding me is that Lady Halstead recently gave me a letter of authority to oversee her financial affairs. He doesn’t know she specifically engaged me to look into the odd payments. He also doesn’t know that I have all the Halstead papers and am analyzing them for the police. If we don’t mention those things, there’s no reason for him to believe I or my office pose any active threat. For all he knows, my involvement in this is, and will remain, purely superficial.”

Stokes’s lips slowly stretched in a predatory smile. “Which brings me back to the question of how to deal with the Halsteads.” He glanced around the table. “Given we believe the murderer is one of them, I intend to tell them as little as possible.”

“Hear, hear,” Barnaby said. “As Montague just illustrated, the less they know, the better.”

Stokes faintly grimaced. “In addition to that, however, at this juncture I think it will be best if Miss Matcham and Miss Westcott are also not informed of our progress. Even though we believe they’re entirely innocent, they are nevertheless suspects, at least in the family’s eyes, and”—he raised his shoulders in a slight shrug—“like it or not, we need to treat them as such.”

Penelope didn’t share that view and said so. Somewhat tartly.

Even though neither lady had yet met Violet Matcham or Tilly Westcott, Griselda agreed. “For all you know, they might be in danger, and not telling them of your findings might fail to put them on guard.”

Montague cleared his throat. “As to that, I believe Miss Matcham’s intelligence is such that she is already well aware that the murderer is most likely a family member. That being so, I can’t see that telling her of Runcorn’s murder at this point will serve any purpose other than to add to her distress.” He met Stokes’s gaze. “She met Runcorn recently, several times, when he called upon Lady Halstead.”

Stokes nodded. “So it’s agreed—we do our best to investigate the family while keeping our findings close to our collective chest.”

The men all agreed; the ladies abstained but didn’t argue.

“Right, then.” Stokes set down his empty ale mug. “I need to return to Runcorn’s office and finalize things there. And while I’m doing that, I’ll have the constables go around again and ask for any sightings of a veiled lady.” He met Adair’s, then Montague’s, gazes. “Just to ensure our mysterious lady hasn’t played a larger role in this drama.”

Adair nodded. “And I rather think I should return to Grimshaws Bank and see if anyone noticed which way the lady went. You never know—that might give us some clues.”

“While you’re there,” Montague said, eyes narrowing in thought, “you might ask to speak with the head clerk again and inquire as to how the payments were made. It’s a very long shot, especially with deposits made in cash, but one never knows—the tellers might recall.” He met Adair’s eyes and shrugged. “It’s worth asking. And if the head clerk doesn’t recall your connection to this matter”—he pulled out a card and handed it to Adair—“feel free to use my name.”

Adair took the card, raised it in salute. “I will. It’s a good point.”

“And I,” Montague stated, “will continue to seek information in my usual sphere. Those payments are puzzling. If I can’t get to the bottom of them by analyzing the Halstead accounts, I might call in a few favors and see if any of my colleagues have any suggestions.” He looked at Stokes. “All with the utmost discretion, of course.”

Stokes nodded and pushed back his chair. “So we all have things to do.”

Adair rose, too. “Matters to pursue, avenues to follow.”

Montague hid a smile and got to his feet. With compliments and thanks to Griselda, and a bow to Penelope, he followed Stokes and Adair through the house, out of the front door, and out through the gate.

Stokes paused on the pavement, met Adair’s, then Montague’s, eyes. “I suggest we meet again at your office in the City later this afternoon and pool what we’ve learned. We’ll need to see the family again, clearly, but I would like to have as much information as possible before we call them together again.”

Adair nodded. So did Montague. With salutes, the trio parted and went their separate ways.

Penelope stood at the front window of the sitting room and, with Griselda beside her, watched the three men stride away. “Off they go, busily investigating. What odds will you give me that they plan to meet later—just the three of them—to compare notes?”

Griselda snorted. “That’s no wager—it’s a certainty.” Arms crossed beneath her bosom, she nodded toward the pavement. “That’s what that little gathering was about—setting a time and place.”

“I suppose,” Penelope said, head tilting as she considered, “in the circumstances, the violence of murder can only be expected to make them more protective.”

“Not that they weren’t protective enough to begin with, but I take your point.” Griselda glanced at Penelope. “Matters have changed, and adequate adjustments have yet to be made.”

“Indeed.” Penelope nodded. “So they’ve headed off, and we know what they’re doing. What does that leave us to do?” After a second, she answered her own question. “I rather think we should see what we can learn about the Halstead family from a social perspective. The Halsteads, and the Camberlys, too.”

“Oh,” Griselda said, her voice rising with interest and subtle excitement, “I know just where to start.” She met Penelope’s eyes, read her speculative, questioning gaze, and smiled. “Just let me have a word to Gloria and make sure Megan’s settled, then I’ll grab my bonnet and show you.”

“Show me what?” Penelope asked.

Griselda grinned. “The other side of fashionable shopping.”

Penelope looked intrigued. She waved Griselda on, then followed on her heels. “I’ll get my coat and bonnet on and meet you at the door.”

Chapter 7

Stokes spent an hour and a half at Runcorn’s offices, finalizing details and overseeing the securing of the premises. “Just as a precaution,” he said to the local sergeant, “I want two men watching the place at all times, but there’s no need for them to make themselves visible. One can be inside, the other keeping an eye on the door and the street from the pub across the way.”