The Seven Dials Affair, page 31
"He did," Kitty said. "I tripped him."
"Ah." Allam flashed a grin at her. "My thanks, ma'am." He poured three glasses of gin and took a drink from his own glass. "What do you know about Allegra?"
Mélanie curled her hands round her glass. "We're investigating her murder."
He didn't look as surprised as she'd have expected. "Clear you weren't ordinary morts. I heard there was a posh crew looking into Allegra's death. I've been waiting for someone to show up ever since I got the news. Which wasn't until today. Been out of town. Sooner talk to you lot than Bow Street."
"Accommodating of you." Kitty untied her shawl, which she'd wrapped round her shoulders to keep it out of the way during the chase.
"I want to learn what happened to her."
"You'd known Allegra a long time," Mélanie said.
"She wasn't more than sixteen when we met. Before she ran off with Gresham. You know about him?"
"I spoke with him yesterday," Mélanie said.
Allam cast a glance at the peeling wallpaper and chipped moldings. "Allegra always liked Seven Dials. She said the world came alive here. Course, it was easier for her to like it when she could leave."
"How did you meet?" Kitty asked.
"She came looking for me."
Kitty raised a brow. "An usual way for a love affair to start."
"Love affair?" Allam threw himself back in his chair with a laugh. "You've got the shoe on the wrong foot. Allegra wasn't my mort. She was my sister."
Mélanie cast a quick glance at Kitty. "But you didn't grow up together?"
"God no. I didn't know she existed until that day she wandered into the Three Queens. She was tough even then, but one glance said she didn't belong here. Sixteen-year-olds in Seven Dials look years older than she did." For a moment his face softened with what might have been affection.
Mélanie had learned to turn on the illusion of youth as a spy, but she'd left youth behind long before her sixteenth birthday. "What did you say to her?"
"Usually I'm wary of people asking for me," Allam said, "but in her case I thought I should say yes before someone else took advantage of her." He met their gazes, his own at once hard and abashed. "Just because I make my trade in Seven Dials doesn't mean I'm entirely without feelings."
"We never said you were," Kitty said.
"I took her to a table in a corner and got her the mildest ale we pour. Didn't want to take her to a private room and risk all sorts of talk. Just wanted to find out how she knew my name and figure out how to get her home. That's when she said she thought she was my sister. I just stared at her as if she'd gone mad. Even madder than I'd thought she was for coming to Seven Dials in the first place. My mum worked at the Three Queens. I had two sisters who died of a fever, and my mum died when I was eight giving birth to a third who didn't survive. Nowhere for Allegra to fit in. I said as much, and she said it wasn't our mother. It was our father. She'd always been sure her father wasn't her mother's first husband, and now she knew who he was, and she'd been digging and she thought he was my father too." Allam took a drink of gin and frowned into his glass. "That caught me. I mean, it was possible. Never knew who my father was. But my mum said he was a gentleman who had her in keeping for a while. Was never sure if that was just a pretty story to cover my being made in a night's trade or if it was truth. My mum told a lot of fairy stories. But I couldn't deny it was possible. And I couldn't deny I was curious. Though I thought it was a bit odd Allegra was so eager to prove she was born on the wrong side of the blanket. Allegra just laughed and said our father was a much more interesting father than her official father. At that point, I had to ask her who this paragon was."
"And she told you?" Mélanie asked.
"Lord Warkworth." He watched the words take effect on their faces. "I didn't even know who he was then. But I've learned he's quite a nob."
Mélanie had met the Earl of Warkworth. The first time on her first trip to Britain, in 1814, when Napoleon had been on Elba. She'd sat next to him at a long dinner for the Tsar of Russia. In between the endless toasts, he'd been politely flirtatious. Her main memory of that night was sipping champagne and focusing all her attention on the need to smile over the wreckage of the last remnants of the Revolution. She'd nearly thrown up at a toast to the restored Bourbon king. An image of Colin clutching a white Royalist flag Fanny had bought him in Hyde Park had hovered before her eyes.
But Warkworth had been kind. Malcolm had later told her Warkworth was a seasoned diplomat. He hadn't been posted to the Peninsula or France. In fact, she thought he'd been sent to South America. Which had been mildly interesting then and suddenly was of keen interest.
"Warkworth spent time in Brazil and paid a visit to Buenos Aires while I was there," Kitty said, looking at Allam. "I don't know if he saw Allegra, but she was there then too. Have you met him?"
"No." Allam made the curt word as final as a door slammed shut. "Wouldn't be interested in me." He dragged the toe of his boot over the floorboards. "Part of me liked the idea of looking the man who fathered me in the face. But another knew he'd dismiss me. And that's not a pleasant thought. Being denied by one's father."
"No," Mélanie said.
"Did Allegra meet him?" Kitty asked. "I can't remember if they saw each other in Buenos Aires, but before?"
"Eventually. And then she kept saying the fact that we were his children made us special." He gave a wry smile. "Funny. I've learned her mother and stepfather thought everyone was born equal. I even read some pamphlets she brought me." He looked from Kitty to Mélanie. "My mum taught me to read. She wasn't from Seven Dials. Didn't like to talk about her past, but her parents were farmers on some grand estate. Warkworth's, I think now, or maybe one of his friends'. Anyway, I learned to read. I like to read."
"So do a lot of us," Mélanie said. "And having taught my children, I'm constantly amazed at the wonder of mastering the skill."
Allam grunted in acknowledgement. "A lot of sense in those pamphlets. But Allegra was awfully focused on birth making her special. That first day, I told her I was glad we'd met, but she had to get home. Walked her out of Seven Dials and scrounged up enough to pay for a hackney. But she insisted we set up a way to trade messages before she left. After that, she'd sneak out to visit me. Once or twice she met a man at the Three Queens. Wasn't best pleased, but figured it was better she was having assignations where I was about to keep an eye on things. Then she told me she was going to run off and join an opera company. Made a certain sense. She had a lovely voice. Sang for me sometimes. Didn't see her for ages after that. She wrote once or twice. Then suddenly she was back, saying opera hadn't worked and her protector had left her. As had her next protector. Well, they do, don't they? And not long after, she told me she was marrying. A Bow Street runner." He shook his head. "Never thought I'd have a family connection to Bow Street, even if it's on the wrong side of the blanket. But she said she'd known him from childhood, and he was someone she could trust."
"Did you know she was with child when she married?" Mélanie asked.
Allam shifted in his chair. "Know that, do you?"
"And so does her husband," Mélanie said. "It doesn't change the way he feels about his son."
Allam nodded. "I knew. She said she didn't have a choice but to marry, at that point. And that this Roth would be a good father. She said she'd always liked him. That he was interesting. But I don't think she found being his wife very interesting. Being a wife, that is. Allegra always wanted drama."
"She went on visiting you?" Kitty asked.
"Oh, aye. She'd slip away, from time to time. More often, as time went on. Sometimes she'd—"
"Meet a man here?" Mélanie asked.
He met her gaze squarely. "Sometimes. I don't think fidelity was in Allegra's makeup."
"I didn't used to think it was in mine," Mélanie said.
"Your husband must be a remarkable man."
"He is. But I'm the one who changed."
"He's a lucky devil, if you'll pardon my saying so, ma'am."
"Thank you." Mélanie tightened her fingers on her glass because she needed to grip something. "But I'm the one who's fortunate."
"Did Allegra tell you she was planning to leave England?" Kitty asked.
Allam's fingers tightened on his own glass. "She told me. She looked happier than I'd seen her in years. I was worried about the boys—losing my mum wasn't easy on me. But she said Roth was a better father than she was a mother. And our father hadn't seen us at all. Though I didn't count that a virtue in him, as I told her."
"Did she say where she was going?" Mélanie asked.
"The Argentine. She said it meant silver. I laughed and said then she'd make her fortune. She got an odd look and said perhaps she would, but that wasn't why she was going. She was going because she'd found something that would make her life worth living. I laughed again and said I couldn't imagine what would make a life worth living. Except getting through to the next day." He frowned into his gin. "Course, that was before I met Mandy."
"Blonde?" Kitty said. "Green eyes? Works at the Three Queens?"
"Aye." Allam shot a glance at her. "She sent you to me?"
"Mmm." Kitty regarded him. "She's not best pleased with you."
"Got scared," Allam said. "Afraid of pulling her into a mess. Like Allegra. Afraid of how it would change my life. Which is barmy, because what's so special about my life? I never had illusions about that. Not like Allegra." He took another drink. "Allegra wrote once or twice from the Argentine. Said she had the life she'd always wanted. She felt a world away. Which she was. Never thought I'd see her again. Then suddenly, last week, she walked back into the Three Queens. She wanted to talk in a private room this time. Said she was here with her lover and didn't want her husband to know."
"What else did she say?" Mélanie asked.
Allam picked up the bottle of gin and refilled their glasses. He'd finished his, but it seemed as much prevarication as desire for another drink. He swirled the glass in his hand and took a deep swallow. "That it was good to see me, but she wasn't back for long and couldn't afford to get entangled with her old life. That was Allegra. Never the sentimental sort. She had people she needed to meet with, and she couldn't do it at her hotel or anywhere her lover might know. He wouldn't understand."
"Why?" Kitty asked.
"She didn't say. But given that one of the people she needed to talk to was her husband, I can hazard a guess."
"Did she say she needed to talk to her husband?" Mélanie asked.
"Not then. Asked if he'd come looking for me or I'd heard anything about him. Which I hadn't. I did say didn't she want to see her boys? Sentimental of me, I suppose, but damn it, I'd want to if they were mine. Damn lucky she has children, if you ask me. But she said it was better not to. It was only later she told me she was going to have to talk to her husband, and she'd better do it at the Three Queens. She said she needed his advice."
"That's an odd way of putting it," Mélanie said.
"Yes, that's what I thought."
"What else did she want you to do?" Kitty asked.
Allam shifted in his chair. "She had a job for me."
"She wanted you to steal something?" Mélanie asked.
He flashed a look at her.
"It's that or that she wanted you to tend bar. And somehow I think she'd have turned to the staff at Mivart's for entertaining."
He gave a short laugh. "You're right at that."
He hesitated again.
"We're not working with Bow Street," Mélanie said. "We want the truth of what happened to your sister. But we have no cause to turn you in."
He grunted. "What people have cause to do has a way of changing."
"You saw me bash a man over the head," Mélanie said.
"Like anyone would believe me if I turned you in. Like I could without betraying myself. Still, I seem to have thrown my lot in with you lot. And we at least have a goal in common." He took another drink of gin. "Allegra wanted me to break in and nab something for her."
"We're spies," Kitty said. "We aren't shocked by break-ins. Where did she want you to break in?"
"House in Cambridge. Some tutor there. Nab some paper hidden in a damned classical statue thing. She gave me money to pay for the stage. But when I got there and made inquiries, I learned this tutor's daughter had left for London with a parcel that sounded a lot like the marble. Bound for Mayfair. Hill Street."
"You're good at gathering intelligence," Kitty said.
"Part of doing a job well. So I headed back to town. Got in last night. Hadn't heard about Allegra. I went to this house in Hill Street and broke in to get the marble—or rather, the paper in the marble. Only I got chased out before I could snatch it." He looked from Mélanie to Kitty taking in their reaction. "Does that mean something?"
"It's the home of friends of ours," Mélanie said. "One of our friends chased you into the street."
"Your friend's quick on his feet. I only got away because some nobs blundered between us."
"Why did Allegra want the paper?" Mélanie asked.
"She didn't say. But she said it could be the key to her future. Mine too. Not that I believed that. She said I'd be handsomely rewarded, if so. But that isn't why I did it. I did it because she's Allegra. And then after I escaped back to Seven Dials, I learned she was dead." He looked from Mélanie to Kitty. "What was in the paper?"
"It's in code," Mélanie said. "I can't promise we'll tell you what's in it when it's decoded, but I can promise we'll do everything we can to learn what happened to her."
"Fair enough." He looked between them again. "I know Roth's your friend. And Allegra didn't seem afraid of him. I said we had a goal in common. And we do. But if Roth killed her, we won't anymore. Because I think you'll want to protect your friend. And I want Allegra avenged."
"We have no reason to think Jeremy Roth killed Allegra," Mélanie said.
"He was found with her body," Allam said. "And he was her husband."
"And spouses are always suspect." Mélanie saw no point in not confronting that. "We realize that. But we don't think he's guilty. And until such time as we learn differently, I hope we can be allies."
Allam sat back in his chair and stretched his legs out, glass clutched in front of him. "Talking to you, aren't I?"
Kitty took a drink of gin. "You said Allegra wanted to meet people at the Three Queens. Whom else did she meet there besides Jeremy Roth?"
"Don't know for a certainty." Allam took a drink from his own glass. "I just set it up that she could have the use of a room. I think she preferred it when I wasn't there so she didn't feel anyone was watching what she did. She never quite got past the days when she was sixteen and I was a concerned elder brother. God, talk about a role I never thought I'd play."
"We all play unexpected roles," Mélanie said. "I never thought I'd be a mother. You have no idea who else she met?"
"Well, there was one night I was working the bar. And I wasn't really surprised to see them, given what I'd seen in the past. I think he still felt for her too. But Ledgwood was always hard to read."
"Philip Ledgwood?" Kitty had gone still as ice.
"Aye. You know him?"
"Yes. And I knew Allegra knew him. But I thought they met in the Argentine."
"Oh no. They met in London. Used to rendezvous at the Three Queens. Talk about times I felt like a concerned brother. Never trusted him."
"Nor did I," Kitty said, knuckles white on her glass. "But it seems I wasn't nearly suspicious enough." She tossed down the last of the gin and clunked the glass down. "I need to talk to Philip."
"He's a friend of yours?" Allam asked.
"At this point I'm not sure what he is."
CHAPTER 40
Harry put up a hand to anchor his hat as a gust of wind threatened to yank it off. "I left the code with Allie. She'll make faster work of it than any of us."
Malcolm nodded. Harry had found him in the pub with Esquivel, and they were walking home along Old Bond Street.
"Fitzroy didn't know anything conclusive about Ashford. But he'd heard rumors about Ashford's death." Harry described his talk with Fitzroy as they threaded their way round dirty patches of snow, between the crowds hurrying in and out of shops. At least Bond Street was less of a crush than in more clement weather. "It sounds as though Ashford has protection from Whitehall. Horse Guards, perhaps. We can ask Kitty, though I suspect she won't know."
"So do I. But it could relate to what Ashford was doing in the Argentine. Which could relate to Allegra Roth's death." Malcolm stared at the gray sky. They'd had a bit of sun in the morning, but now clouds were massing. "What do you think?" he asked.
Harry swung his gaze round. "About Ashford or Allegra Roth?"
"About Roth. About his story. Which keeps changing."
Harry, being Harry, didn't shy away from difficult facts that might interfere with his preferred thesis. "You mean, do I think he murdered his wife?"
"Yes." A relief in a way to actually say it, though his throat hurt.
"I don't," Harry said, in the voice of a detached scholar. "Though I recognize my biases. And I'm less convinced he's innocent than I was two days ago."
"So am I." Malcolm watched a haberdasher's sign swinging in the wind. It was coming off one of its hinges. "Every instinct tells me the man I've known for a decade couldn't have done it. But I'm always saying one can never be sure of what anyone might be capable of, in the right circumstances." The sign creaked, as though it couldn't decide where to settle. "And there's no denying I haven't shown myself the best judge of knowing when people I'm close to are lying to me."
They moved past a gentleman in a padded coat and a young woman, probably a lady's maid, arms full of shopping parcels, stopping to flirt despite the weather. "It's all right, you know," Harry said.
A landau clattered past. When the noise died down, Malcolm turned his head to meet his friend's gaze full on. "That I haven't shown myself the best judge of my loved ones?"
Harry's gaze was steady and open. "That this couldn't but remind you of some uncomfortable situations in your own past."
