“But you should talk to Wilmot. He delivered the messages. He might know more than me,” she added.
“Wilmot?” Felix asked.
“The footman.” She supplied.
“Very well. If he’s available, send him to us.” Felix directed.
They were soon joined by a good-looking young man no more than twenty-five. He had a swagger about him and Val was sure he never lacked for female companionship.
“Thea said you’re asking about Miss Irene.” He told them. “What do you want to know?”
“How long have you worked with the Derry’s?”
“Seven maybe eight years.”
“How do they treat you?”
“Well enough.”
“Thea mentioned a Mr. Eastoft. Do you know this gentleman?”
“Sure.”
“How do you know him?”
“Miss Irene sent him notes and he sent ones back. I usually was to wait for the reply.”
“Do you know what the notes contained?” Felix asked.
Wilmot gave the sergeant a quizzing look. “What do you think they were about?”
“Tell us what you saw or heard and no cheek.” Felix said sharply.
“She was sitting for him. Some painting,” Wilmot told them. “He was sweet on her.”
“We were to understand Mr. Eastoft practices law.” Val said.
Wilmot shrugged. “I think she said that. But I recall there was a painting of some sort and she didn’t want it anymore. I don’t know all of it.”
“And Miss Derry and Mr. Eastoft. They were engaged? A secret engagement?” Felix asked.
“I don’t know nothing about that.”
“Are you holding something back?” Val suddenly asked the footman.
“If I tell you, I need this to not get back to the family. I don’t want to lose my job.” Wilmot said. “I’ve got a good, easy place here.”
“It depends on what it is you tell us. Anything illegal or—“ Val began.
“It’s nothing like that.”
“Tell us. We’ll be the judge.”
“Miss Irene. I liked her well enough I did. A pretty sort of girl. Lively and fun but she—“
“Yes?” Val asked.
“She was a tart.”