A Stranger in Mayfair - Charles Finch [39]
“Did you like working there?”
She shrugged. “I liked the girls on the alley—oh, yes, the one where Freddie died,” she said in response to Lenox’s surprised look. “We lived our whole life in that alley, the ten or fifteen of us. There was a great deal of gossip and chat. It pleased me to think of him there, running out for small errands and meeting people.”
“A community,” Lenox murmured.
“Yes, precisely.”
Lenox made a mental note to interview other people “on the alley”—not just the footmen who had been friends with the dead lad.
“Did he ever wear a ring, that you recall?” asked Dallington.
“No,” said his mother. “What sort of ring?”
“A signet ring? With a picture on the front, gold?”
“No.” She shook her head firmly. “Certainly not.”
“In your experience did he often have much money? When he came to visit you on his holidays, for instance?”
“Oh, dear, no—he saved his money, I think.”
“Did he dress differently after he moved to London? In a nicer suit, for instance?”
“Not at all. He had his old suits mended and wore them until they were threadbare. He always offered me money, though. Not that I needed it—the Dove does quite well—but still, the offer.” She took a sip of tea, and a slight smile came over her face. “You can’t imagine how wonderful he was to me. Mr. Clarke is dead, you see, and when Freddie came to visit he was so thoughtful—so considerate. What a nice boy he was.”
“There, there,” said Lenox. She had tears in her eyes.
“He did all the chores a man usually does in the pub, when he was home. Fixed squeaky doors and creaking chairs, carried the kegs, rousted the patrons who had too much drink and were acting loud. It was a treat for me, not to be on my own.” Now she was really crying. “And he’s gone forever.”
Because of his work Lenox had seen so many grieving people in the last two decades that he was, to his shame, in some degree immune to their suffering. It was no different with Mrs. Clarke; he sympathized with her, but the rawness of her emotions—he could now feel detached from it. Inwardly he vowed to discover who had killed Freddie, if only to make amends for this own private callousness.
“Are you leaving town, Mrs. Clarke?”
She shook her head decisively. “Certainly not. Mr. Rathbone, who sold the Pig and Whistle some years ago, has come out of retirement to run the Dove while I’m away. I mean to stay here until I find out the truth.”
“Can I ask—who do you think killed your son?”
Her tears started afresh. “I don’t know!” she said. “I wish I did.”
“Do you recall anything else he said about life at the Starlings’, anything unusual? Anything about Mr. Collingwood?”
She thought for a moment, one delicate hand touching her pale chin. “He said that Collingwood was secretive, I remember. Freddie said, ‘I don’t have any friends in the house, only on the alley. Collingwood is far too secretive.’”
Freddie had his own secrets, thought Lenox, his mind on the money. “Did you ever send him money, by any chance?” It was a long shot.
She frowned. “No, not after his first month or so there, when I made sure he had enough. I didn’t want him to go, you see.”
“Oh?”
“He could have taken over the pub for me. Even if he had only wanted to live in London, he needn’t have been a footman. He could have taken lodgings and applied to be a tutor—he was excellent in books, you know—or any number of things. But he insisted on London, and on being a footman—and in fact on being a footman for the Starlings.”
“Why the Starlings?”
She shook her head. “He heard me talk about my days there, I suppose. He said he wanted a few years in London, and then he would decide what he should really do with his life. Do you have children, Mr. Lenox?”
“I don’t.”
“They’re mysterious creatures. You do your best with them, but in the end it’s not up to you how they live.”
Lenox took a sip of coffee, wondering to himself what could have made Freddie so adamantly desire to be a footman, a difficult job, and more specifically a footman at the Starlings’, when other options were available to him…and how did his job in Mayfair connect