“I’m afraid I must apologize. When you came to see me about King’s whereabouts the night Lourdes disappeared, I said he was with me. I lied. He was not. I saw him very briefly at Devonshire House.”
“I see.”
“I was asked to lie, Inspector. Though at the time, I was told there was an accident. I didn’t know until I asked the sergeant what had happened.”
“Now you know.”
“Yes.”
“When Mr. Parker asked you to lie, did he give you any indication of where he had been?”
“He said she had made a scene and that he took her back to her hotel. Then he went home. He said it was late and that no one was about at the hotel, and his staff at home was asleep.”
Inspector Thompson nodded. “And he told us she was at his home, a fight ensued, and she left. A note was delivered bidding him to come to the hotel, but he didn’t.”
Ford stepped in. “I’m here in two capacities, Inspector. One is to support Ruby. We intend to marry once we reach Paris. But I am also a detective employed with the Pinkerton’s through the New York branch. I have been employed by King in the past, but this whole affair has me concerned, so I’ve done my own digging.”
As he spoke, Ruby watched the inspector begin taking furious notes, and the sergeant perked up as Ford relayed the information he had collected.
“You don’t say!” Thompson shook his head. “The butler. I should have guessed.”
“Yes. And the pregnancy the coroner informed me about gives King a motive. He wouldn’t want that kind of a mess. He wanted to marry Ruby with no complications.”
Thompson cast a searching glance at Ruby, then consulted his little notebook. “Seems his first wife, Caroline Parker, had been ill for some time and died recently.”
“That’s true,” Ruby confirmed.
“And the rumor mill had it that the death was very convenient.”
“I don’t know anything about it except what you said. She was ill, and the death was sudden,” Ruby told him.
“Hmmm. I can’t give you my word that you won’t hear more about this, Ms. Sutton. You lied to a detective chief inspector during a murder inquiry. You gave a false alibi.”
Ford eyed the man before him. “And I came forward with my own investigation, giving you a lead for a butler who could be a witness as well as bringing Ms. Sutton here to recount her story.”
Thompson nodded. “True. Very true.” He stood and came around his desk. “Thank you for the information, Mr. Rutledge. We will look into it. Leave your Paris address for me so I can contact you.”
Ford wrote the address of the Paris hotel, and Thompson inclined his head to Ruby. “Ms. Sutton.”
As Ruby and Ford stepped into the street, a light rain began to fall.
“Wasn’t so bad,” Ford said.
“No. I feel like a weight has been lifted. I never should have lied. That was wrong. It’s been wearing on my conscience.”
“King is persuasive. He used his financial backing of the tour to place you into a corner. His corner. I suspect he knew what he was doing all along. He never meant to remain an admirer for long.”
He placed an arm around her waist as they hailed a taxi. “Let’s collect our bags and get to the train station.”
Bessie was waiting for Ruby whe
n they returned. She had given her a hasty explanation for not sleeping in their room that previous night, and everything came pouring out as she packed. Her relationship with Ford, whom she had always loved, and her avoidance of King, whom she did not love, which Bessie already knew. She omitted the death of Lourdes and King’s role in it as she didn’t want to burden her friend unnecessarily.
“Marry in Paris? I may swoon from jealousy,” she teased.
Ruby tossed her gloves and petticoats into the trunk and laughed. “You know I’ve always loved him, Bess. He’s always been in my heart, and now I’m in his. I have everything I want.”
“I should say you do! The king of England came to our show and singled you out. You are a star, Ruby. You have fans that love you! They send you poems and flowers. I can’t imagine what the French will be like!”