“She had met someone that she wanted to marry. It had been at a ball. She claimed he was the perfect man to marry. Wealthy, titled.” He rubbed a hand across his forehead.
Val listened, alert and waiting for the name.
“It was after they met that we began to quarrel. She didn’t want me to sketch her anymore. She said it wasn’t the proper thing to do. We argued. I told her neither was our being lovers. She didn’t want to be with me anymore,” he said the last words quietly. “She wanted him.”
“So, you parted.” Val said.
“I loved her Inspector. I cared for her. I wanted to marry her. But our love, my love, such as it was, was based on a lie. It was never real to her. I was a fling to her.”
“Did you know the man she wanted to marry?”
Lyle shook his head. “I know he was the heir to an earldom. She told me that much. She actually flaunted his wealth and status in my face but she never told me his name.”
Val nodded. Charles Lyttleton, he thought. As Caroline had suspected.
Val cleared his throat. “Did Irene tell you she was expecting?”
“Expecting?” Lyle asked. “As in a child?”
Val nodded.
“That’s not possible. We had not been intimate for at least two maybe three months before her death.”
“I see.”
“But the last time I saw Irene, she was happy. She said she had news.” Lyle nodded. “When I asked her the news, she had smiled and said it was a secret but that this would be the thread that tied her to her lord as she called him.”
Lyle looked up at him and there were tears in his eyes. “I guess she had moved on while I was still holding on.”
???
Val placed his hat on his head as he entered the London streets. Bowler was not the murderer. He had loved Irene and wanted to marry her. If anything, from their conversation, he now believed this “lord” had a motive. Perhaps in their case, Irene had been the love sick fool and the lord had been using her. A young girl with visions of fantasies to live with her prince in a castle would not be taken well by a family that wanted an heiress and bloodlines for their son. For all that Irene seemed to come from a good family, she had neither pedigree nor a fortune.
Perhaps the lord had discovered her state of being in the family way and had decided to end everything once and for all with her.
Val made his way to visit Peter Davies to obtain the name of the person who owned the building where the opium den belonged.
Knocking on the door, he entered and was greeted pleasantly by the clerk who ushered him into Peter Davies’ inner office.
“Ah Inspector!” Peter Davies stood up and came across the table to shake the man’s hand.
“Mr. Davies.” Val said cordially.
“I’ll have my clerk get the information you were seeking,” Davies said nodding at his clerk.
Val settled into the chair opposite the estate agent. “I thought you might help me on another matter.”
“Of course. How can I be of assistance?”
“I’m looking to make a change in my lodging. I currently rent a room but I believe the time has come for something more permanent.”
“Indeed? You are absolutely right in wanting a change and it’s the perfect time to do so,” Davies smiled. “There are new buildings being built near and around Westminster and they are very elegant. You can give dinner parties and have guests over. Let me show them to you this week. You won’t be sorry.”
Val nodded. “They sound very interesting.”
“You won’t regret it! They are all the vogue. They have indoor plumbing and come with all the modern conveniences.”
“Such as?”