“Were you privy to his business before he died?” William said. “I just wonder how well the business will be run in the future if you only ‘tolerated’ each other. It would seem to me that you didn’t have the information needed to run such a large company.”
At least that question had something to do with the reason they were visiting. If they went too far afield, Mr. Harris might suspect something and refuse to answer any questions at all.
On the other hand, if he was in as dire straits as William’s man of business reported, he would put up with quite a bit of nosiness to get his hands on her money.
“You are correct on that point, my lord. I tried several times to get my uncle to bring me into the business. Learn how to run it and all that. But perhaps he merely felt that by doing so he was contemplating his death, since I was to inherit.”
Or encouraging his nephew to plan the event.
“That is true, but he did draw up a will, which is the same thing,” Amy said.
William leaned forward. “There
was an argument outside Mr. St. Vincent’s townhouse a few weeks ago. I was surprised to hear that, since I was under the impression that you did not reside in England but had spent most of your time on the Continent. I only ask because of my concern for Lady Amy’s investment, you understand.”
Amy couldn’t imagine how the argument between nephew and uncle would affect money she wanted to invest, but if Mr. Harris didn’t question it, she had no intention of pointing that fact out to him. She had to admit, for someone who might have committed a murder, he seemed somewhat relaxed in speaking of the man.
Mr. Harris ran his fingers through his hair. “Yes. I am sorry for that, too. Especially in light of his death only a few days later. In fact, after that argument, I left for London, where I stayed with my younger sister and her husband, who had just welcomed a new child. I returned to Bath once I received the message of my uncle’s demise.”
William’s eyebrows shot up. “You were in London when he was killed?”
“Yes. I needed time to cool off. When I say Uncle and I tolerated each other, I was being generous. He had no liking for me, nor me for him. In fact, he paid me to stay away from him.” The man’s shoulders slumped. “I would have liked to have had a better relationship, but he had no interest in me. He sent an allowance each month so I could live the life of a gentleman, but I would have much preferred to earn my living by working alongside him.”
All the air went out of Amy’s lungs. Not only had Mr. Harris not even been in Bath when St. Vincent was killed—and she was sure that if they checked that fact, it would be true—but he seemed to be almost sorry for the way he and his uncle had not gotten along.
She looked over at William, who stared back at her. They would now have to cross Mr. Harris off their list of suspects. Which, at this point, left only Mr. Miles.
It annoyed her that there was something in the back of her mind that kept nudging at her, but she could not recall it. Scattered pieces which might add up if she put them all together.
Since the reason for their visit had been settled, there was no reason to continue the conversation. She nodded at Mr. Harris. “I want to thank you for answering our questions.” She looked over at William. “Did you have any more questions, my lord?”
William shook his head. “No.”
Harris looked between them, obviously confused. “Would you care to have your man of business look over my books?”
There didn’t seem to be any point in doing that, except to see how badly these false funds were needed. Then she remembered there was still the question of Mr. Miles and Mr. Harris continuing the drug trade that St. Vincent had. How would those transactions appear in the books? Or would they not be there at all?
With Mr. Miles being the final name on their list, seeing the business records for the last few years might give them the necessary evidence to convict Mr. Miles.
“Actually, Mr. Harris, it might be a good idea for Lord Wethington’s man of business, Mr. Harding, to take a look at the records.” She turned to William. “Can you arrange that, my lord?”
“Yes. Of course.” William didn’t seem surprised at her request, so perhaps his thoughts ran along the same line.
William stood and pulled back her chair. The two men shook hands, and they all traversed the dimly lit corridor once again to the small office at the front of the building. The clerk was busy writing but stood as they reached his desk.
He smiled and offered a slight bow. “Have a nice day, my lord, my lady.”
“Thank you.”
William grasped Amy’s elbow, and they made their way out of the building and to the carriage.
Once they were on their way, William said, “If what Mr. Harris says is truth, and he was in London when your fiancé was killed—”
“Ex-fiancé.”
“—then there is no need to pursue him.”
Amy sighed. “Yes. I mentally crossed Mr. Harris off too, based on his comments. It is a simple matter to write to this sister and ascertain that he was there during the time he said. He would not lie about it, since it is too easy to disprove. That might be why the police weren’t looking in his direction. They might have already questioned him and were satisfied with his answers.”