Belgrave Square - Anne Perry [45]
“I am afraid most of our progress so far is merely a matter of excluding some of the more obvious possibilities,” he said without preamble.
Byam’s eyes widened a fraction; it was far less than a question, he simply waited for Drummond to continue.
“There were two lists of debtors in Weems’s office,” Drummond went on. “A long one, of very ordinary unfortunates who had borrowed fairly small sums at regular intervals and were paying back similarly. Most of the poor devils will never repay all the capital at his rate of usury, but be scraping the bottom for the rest of their lives. It is a despicable way to profit from other people’s wretchedness!” As soon as the words were said he realized they were out of place. He should not have allowed his own feelings to intrude.
But Byam’s face twisted in sympathy and harsh humor.
“He was a despicable man,” he said in a hard voice. “Blackmail is not an attractive manner in which to acquire money either. If my own life were not at stake I should not give you the slightest encouragement to find out who killed Mr. Weems, I assure you. But since it is, I am obliged to pursue the matter with all the vigor I have.”
It was an invitation, even a request, to continue more relevantly. Drummond took it.
“So far we have eliminated a great number on account of their having been in company at the time Weems was shot—”
Byam pulled a rueful face.
“I wish I could say as much. Unfortunately even my servants did not disturb me that evening.”
Drummond smiled back at him. “That is a small advantage to poverty; they live in such cramped quarters allowing of almost no privacy at all, they have a number of witnesses to swear they were here or there, well observed, at the time. Many of them share one room with an entire family, or were working, or in a public house.”
Byam’s face quickened with hope. “But not all?”
“No, not all,” Drummond agreed. “Pitt and his men are pursuing those who were alone, or only with their wives, whose testimony cannot be relied upon. It would be most natural for a wife to say her husband was with her, as soon as she understood the meaning of the questions.” Drummond shifted his position a fraction. “And of course word of Weems’s murder spread very quickly. Some who lived outside the Clerkenwell area had not heard. But the very fact that the police are inquiring is a warning to them that something serious is amiss. They have the arts of survival.”
“Not very promising.” Byam attempted to sound light-hearted, but there was a catch in his voice; the smoothness of it was gone, the timbre thin, and the knuckles of his hands on the chair back were white.
“There is another list,” Drummond said quickly. “Of people who have borrowed considerably more heavily.”
“Why did you not try them first?” Byam asked, not abruptly, but with obvious failure to understand what seemed to him so plain a point.
“Because they are gentlemen,” Drummond replied, and phrased that way he disliked the sound of it himself. “Because they were borrowing equally according to their means,” he added. “Perhaps less. And probably they have a better likelihood of coming by the extra to repay, should their ordinary income not stretch to it. They would have possessions to sell, if that were a last resort.”
“Perhaps he was blackmailing them also,” Byam suggested.
“We had thought of that.” Drummond nodded fractionally. “Pitt will investigate that also, but it must be done with discretion, and some care, simply in order to learn the truth. Men do not usually admit easily to such things.” He met Byam’s wide, dark eyes and saw the flicker of humor in them, self-mocking. “And other secrets may not be as merely tragic as yours. They may be something for which one would have to prosecute.”
“I suppose that is true,” Byam conceded. Suddenly he became aware that Drummond was still standing. “I’m sorry! Please sit—I cannot, I simply find it too difficult to relax myself. Does it discomfit you?”
“Not at all,” Drummond lied. As a matter of courtesy