Holcroft reddened. ‘My wife must never see that letter.’
‘Even though it is a forgery?’ teased the other.
‘Miss Grayle’s good name must be protected.’
‘That will not happen if we release the letter to a scandal sheet. Her good name — and your own — would be in jeopardy. I should perhaps tell you, Lord Holcroft,’ he lied, ‘that we have already been offered a sizeable sum for the missive. We did not, of course, divulge your identity but we explained that you were a person of some importance.’
Lord Holcroft was squirming. His temples began to pound.
‘How can I be sure that you have the letter?’ he demanded.
‘Because I brought a copy with me,’ replied the other, taking a sheet of paper from his pocket to give to him. ‘You have a colourful turn of phrase, Lord Holcroft. If what you say in the letter is correct, I also have to admire your stamina.’
After reading the copy, Holcroft swore under his breath and scrunched the paper in his hand. He was cornered. Were his wife to see the letter, his marriage would come to an abrupt end. If his disgrace reached a wider audience, he would never recover from the scandal. There was no point in trying to reason with the stranger. Lord Holcroft was forced into a sour capitulation.
‘How much do you want?’ he asked.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Having worked as a tailor in Bond Street for over thirty years, Ebenezer Trew was inclined to judge everyone by his own high sartorial standards. When he first set eyes on Robert Colbeck, therefore, he took note of the cut and colour of his apparel and saw that he was a man of discernment. Colbeck’s height and well-proportioned frame were a gift to any tailor and his attire served to enhance his air of distinction. Trew was somewhat nonplussed, therefore, to learn that the visitor to his shop that afternoon was a Detective Inspector, and dismayed that he had lost what he hoped would be a potential customer.
Further disappointment followed. Colbeck opened a bag to produce a jacket that the tailor recognised at once. When he saw the bloodstains on the material, Ebenezer Trew winced. He was a short, neat, fastidious man with the hunched shoulders of someone who spent most of his time bent over a work table.
‘You know the jacket, I see,’ observed Colbeck.
‘I could pick out my handiwork anywhere, Inspector.’
‘Do you remember the customer for whom you made the suit?’
‘Very well. His name was Mr Slender.’ He reached out to take the jacket and looked more closely at the stains on the shoulders. ‘This will be almost impossible to remove,’ he warned. ‘Mr Slender was so proud of his suit. How did it come to be marked like this?’
‘Daniel Slender was attacked on the embankment, Mr Trew.’
‘Dear me! Was the assault a serious one?’
‘Extremely serious,’ said Colbeck, ‘I fear that your customer was bludgeoned to death.’ Trew turned pale. ‘If you had not providentially sewn his name into the lining, we might not have identified him.’
‘Mr Slender insisted on that. He told me that he had always wanted his name in a suit made by a Bond Street tailor.’ He wrinkled his nose. ‘The clothing he wore when he first came in here was of poor quality. Not to put too fine a point on it,’ he said, ‘it was very provincial — quite the wrong colour for him and made with such inferior material. Frankly, Inspector, I’d not have been seen dead in a suit like that.’ He chewed his lip as he heard what he had just said. ‘Oh, I do apologise,’ he added, quickly. ‘That was a rather tasteless remark.’
Colbeck studiously ignored it. ‘What else can you tell me about Daniel Slender?’ he asked.
‘That he had obviously never been to a place like this before.’
‘Was he shy and awkward?’
‘On the contrary,’ said Trew, ‘he was full of confidence. I’ve never met anyone who enjoyed the experience of buying a suit from us so much. He gave me the impression that he had come into an appreciable amount of money that allowed him to indulge himself in a way that he had never been able to do before.’
‘That fits in with what I know of the man,’ said Colbeck. ‘Until he came here, Daniel Slender worked as a locksmith in Wolverhampton.’
Trew wrinkled his nose again. ‘Those dreadful Midlands vowels travelled with him to London,’ he said with mild disgust. ‘I could make him look like a gentleman but he would never sound like one.’
‘I trust that you concealed your prejudice from him, Mr Trew,’ said Colbeck, irritated by the man’s snobbery. ‘None of us can choose the place where we are born or the accent that we inherit.’
‘Quite so, quite so.’
‘You, I suspect, hail from the West Country.’
‘Yes, I do,’ admitted the tailor, hurt that his attempts to remove the telltale burr from his voice had not been quite as successful as he thought. ‘But I have lived in London since the age of ten.’
‘How many times did you meet Mr Slender?’
‘Three, Inspector. He came in to place the order and returned for a fitting. The third time was to collect the suit.’
‘And to pay for it.’
‘He did that with something of a flourish.’
‘Did he ever tell you why he had moved to London?’
‘Oh, yes,’ said Trew, handing the jacket back to Colbeck. ‘It was an ambition that he had nursed for years but domestic concerns kept him in the Midlands. At long last, he told me, he had a means of escape.’
‘What else did he say?’
‘That he was going to enjoy his retirement.’
‘Not for very long, alas,’ said Colbeck, sadly. He looked around at the various items of clothing on display. ‘Being measured for a suit is usually an occasion for light conversation with one’s tailor. Did you find Daniel Slender a talkative man?’
‘To the point of garrulity, Inspector.’
‘In what way?’
Ebenezer Trew needed no more encouragement. Feeling that he had aroused Colbeck’s disapproval, he tried to atone by recalling snatches of the various conversations he had had with his customer. Most of it was irrelevant but enough was of interest to the detective for him to let Trew ramble on. When the tailor’s reminiscences came to an end, Colbeck seized on one remark made by Slender.
‘He told you that he intended to move in society?’
‘That is what I took him to mean, Inspector,’ said Trew. ‘I think that his exact words were that he would be ‘rubbing shoulders with a different class of person.’ It was one reason why he wanted a new suit.’ He gave an ingratiating smile. ‘Have I been of any assistance?’
‘A little, Mr Trew.’
‘Good. I aim to please.’
‘Did your customer furnish you with an address?’
‘Of course,’ said Trew, seriously. ‘I insisted on that. Had we not known where he lived, we would not have undertaken the work. We are very punctilious about such matters.’ He opened a ledger and leafed through the pages. ‘Here we are,’ he said, stopping at a page and pointing a finger. ‘Mr Slender had lodgings at 74, Delamere Street.’ He offered the ledger to Colbeck. ‘You may see for yourself, Inspector.’
‘There is no need for that, Mr Trew,’ said Colbeck, who knew the street well. ‘It seems that you were not as punctilious as you imagined. The last time that I was in Delamere Street, it comprised no more than two dozen houses. In other words, Daniel Slender was residing at an address that does not exist.’