to see you well settled.’
‘Want me under their eye.’ He leant across the table grinning, and lowered his voice. ‘Know my elder brother, do you?’
‘Only by sight.’
He gave me a significant look. ‘Coughing.’
‘ Coughing ?’
‘All the time.’ He dug in his fingers again, waved a piece of pie crust at me. ‘And blood in it. One of these days, there’ll be a notice in the paper. Died of a painful and lingering illness . . .’
I stared at him. Not shocked, because illness and death is part of the normal course of life, but surprised. ‘I’d no idea. But you have another brother.’
‘In Narva with my father. Nasty place, Narva. Like all these foreign places. Thieves and robbers everywhere. And then there’s the ships. Ships can founder, go to the bottom in a flash.’ He made a whooshing noise and gestured broadly with his hands, spraying gravy across the table. Heaven help any family, I thought, whose future depended on Cuthbert Ridley.
I sat back, and fragments of other conversations drifted to me. About the latest price of coal, returns on government stocks, the difficulties in Europe, the squabbles between Austria and France and the damage it was doing to trade. ‘You must have come home the day the woman was knocked into the river,’ I said casually.
He squinted at me. ‘Oh?’
‘And her child drowned.’
‘Oh, that .’ He grinned.
‘It was your first night at home,’ I said. ‘Don’t tell me you sat quietly in the house.’
He winked.
‘Went out looking for fun?’
He gave me a smirk.
‘In a brothel? Best brothels are on the Key.’
He was staring at me with some calculation now. Despite the drink, he’d clearly sensed something significant in my questioning. I said as lightly as I could, ‘Did you see anything?’
‘I was otherwise engaged,’ he said, pronouncing his words carefully.
‘But?’
He grinned at me over the top of his tankard. ‘I may have.’
‘Such as?’
He stared a moment longer, speared a chunk of meat on the end of his knife, looked as coy as Mrs Annabella ever did. He leered at another serving girl who walked past, followed her for a moment with his eyes. ‘It was foggy.’
‘So you saw nothing?’
‘I heard her. She screamed.’
‘The woman who fell in the river?’
‘There was a pig.’ He grinned broadly at me. ‘Did you see the pig? Squealed like it was being stuck. She sounded just like a pig. And whoosh!’ He threw up his hands again. ‘Up went the baby and down again and such a splash.’ He gulped down beer. I clenched my fists under the table.
‘Were you alone?’
He roared with laughter. ‘Me? At the Old Man? Never.’
‘Who was she?’
‘She? They !’ He poked at my shoulder. ‘Never take one when two are available!’ He spoke rather too loudly and an elderly gentleman nearby leered at him with salacious interest.
‘Who were they?’ I asked. ‘What were their names?’
He gave me a reproachful glance. ‘Who worries about their names? Not making friends of them for life! A little financial transaction—’ He mimed the passing of money, then grinned and made an obscene gesture. ‘A little . . . intimacy . Don’t want to live with ’em. Although,’ he added on second thoughts, ‘they’d be more fun than my mother.’
He roared at Charlotte for more beer; she was across the far side of the room, chatting to one of the other girls. ‘You ask a devil of a lot of questions, Patterson.’
‘So I’ve been told.’
‘Had a good time with this woman, did you?’ He sneered at me. ‘The baby that died – had a personal interest there, did you?’
‘I did not,’ I snapped, then added more moderately, ‘I merely want to catch the fellow responsible for its death.’
At least two gentlemen were glancing across at us, as if we were talking too loudly. Charlotte slapped down another tankard in front of Ridley and made off again with all speed. Ridley wagged a finger at me.
‘Take my
‘Want me under their eye.’ He leant across the table grinning, and lowered his voice. ‘Know my elder brother, do you?’
‘Only by sight.’
He gave me a significant look. ‘Coughing.’
‘ Coughing ?’
‘All the time.’ He dug in his fingers again, waved a piece of pie crust at me. ‘And blood in it. One of these days, there’ll be a notice in the paper. Died of a painful and lingering illness . . .’
I stared at him. Not shocked, because illness and death is part of the normal course of life, but surprised. ‘I’d no idea. But you have another brother.’
‘In Narva with my father. Nasty place, Narva. Like all these foreign places. Thieves and robbers everywhere. And then there’s the ships. Ships can founder, go to the bottom in a flash.’ He made a whooshing noise and gestured broadly with his hands, spraying gravy across the table. Heaven help any family, I thought, whose future depended on Cuthbert Ridley.
I sat back, and fragments of other conversations drifted to me. About the latest price of coal, returns on government stocks, the difficulties in Europe, the squabbles between Austria and France and the damage it was doing to trade. ‘You must have come home the day the woman was knocked into the river,’ I said casually.
He squinted at me. ‘Oh?’
‘And her child drowned.’
‘Oh, that .’ He grinned.
‘It was your first night at home,’ I said. ‘Don’t tell me you sat quietly in the house.’
He winked.
‘Went out looking for fun?’
He gave me a smirk.
‘In a brothel? Best brothels are on the Key.’
He was staring at me with some calculation now. Despite the drink, he’d clearly sensed something significant in my questioning. I said as lightly as I could, ‘Did you see anything?’
‘I was otherwise engaged,’ he said, pronouncing his words carefully.
‘But?’
He grinned at me over the top of his tankard. ‘I may have.’
‘Such as?’
He stared a moment longer, speared a chunk of meat on the end of his knife, looked as coy as Mrs Annabella ever did. He leered at another serving girl who walked past, followed her for a moment with his eyes. ‘It was foggy.’
‘So you saw nothing?’
‘I heard her. She screamed.’
‘The woman who fell in the river?’
‘There was a pig.’ He grinned broadly at me. ‘Did you see the pig? Squealed like it was being stuck. She sounded just like a pig. And whoosh!’ He threw up his hands again. ‘Up went the baby and down again and such a splash.’ He gulped down beer. I clenched my fists under the table.
‘Were you alone?’
He roared with laughter. ‘Me? At the Old Man? Never.’
‘Who was she?’
‘She? They !’ He poked at my shoulder. ‘Never take one when two are available!’ He spoke rather too loudly and an elderly gentleman nearby leered at him with salacious interest.
‘Who were they?’ I asked. ‘What were their names?’
He gave me a reproachful glance. ‘Who worries about their names? Not making friends of them for life! A little financial transaction—’ He mimed the passing of money, then grinned and made an obscene gesture. ‘A little . . . intimacy . Don’t want to live with ’em. Although,’ he added on second thoughts, ‘they’d be more fun than my mother.’
He roared at Charlotte for more beer; she was across the far side of the room, chatting to one of the other girls. ‘You ask a devil of a lot of questions, Patterson.’
‘So I’ve been told.’
‘Had a good time with this woman, did you?’ He sneered at me. ‘The baby that died – had a personal interest there, did you?’
‘I did not,’ I snapped, then added more moderately, ‘I merely want to catch the fellow responsible for its death.’
At least two gentlemen were glancing across at us, as if we were talking too loudly. Charlotte slapped down another tankard in front of Ridley and made off again with all speed. Ridley wagged a finger at me.
‘Take my
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