Murder's Sad Tale Read Online Free PDF Page B

he had done. His roguish nature easily convinced him to take Byron to call on Corinne. He thought Luten would have left by now but found him still there talking to Mrs. Ballard, who looked as if she’d as lief be in a lions’ den. Prance had no fear of Luten’s wrath, however, as he had a legitimate excuse for bringing this trouble-making poet to call. He would have brought him in any case but Luten didn’t have to know that. He controlled his amusement at the stiff smile Luten forced on to his face and the sparkle in Corinne’s smile.
    “Any new developments?” he asked the company, after he and Byron were seated. “Byron knows all about it.”
    “We’ve just been discussing what we must do,” Luten said. “We’ll see what Coffen comes up with at Green Park. He’s a good worker. You never know, he might find a clue. This Russell claims to come from Keswick. You have relatives there, Prance. You could write and see what you can learn of Russell.”
    “I’ll do it this very night.”
    “You said you’d enquire amongst your artistic friends as well.” He turned to include the unwelcome caller in the conversation. “You never heard of this James Russell fellow, Byron? Tall, dark, handsome, in his forties is the description we have.”
    “He has!” Prance said. “That’s why we’re here.”
    “Really!” Luten was so pleased he actually smiled at his competition.
    “I’ve only met the fellow once, don’t really know much about him,” Byron began. “I was working out with a fellow called Grimsby at Jackson’s Boxing Parlour. Grimsby’s written a long poem, apparently a modern version of Milton’s Paradise Lost. He wanted to quiz me about how he should get his work published. We went to a tavern and had a few rounds. While we were there this Russell fellow came in. Grimsby knew him. He’d played cards with the man.”
    “Was it at a club?” Corinne asked. “Miss Fenwick mentioned Russell spent time at his club, but she didn’t know what club.”
    “I understood it was a private game. I’ve never seen him at any of the clubs.”
    “A Captain Sharp is he, this Russell?” Luten asked, to draw Byron’s attention away from Corinne.
    “Nothing like that was mentioned,” Byron said, turning to Luten. “Russell was joshing Grimsby about how much money he’d won. Grimsby, I mean. Russell had one ale with us and said he had to leave. Ordinarily I wouldn’t have remembered, but it only happened last week. After he left, Grimsby mentioned Russell was tied to some lady’s apron strings. He hinted the man was after the lady’s fortune. It seems someone was quizzing him about it over that card game I mentioned. That’s really all I know about him.”
    Luten nodded. “That gives us a clue as to his character.” Mrs. Ballard, who had been caught unawares by Byron’s arrival, hadn’t managed to escape. She looked as if she would like to say something but she didn’t speak. “Cooper thought the same thing,” he said aside to her. Then added to Byron, “Is Grimsby a respectable sort? What I’m trying to find out is what set Russell traveled in.”
    “Grimsby was a Harrow boy, like myself. He’s from a decent family. His grandfather made his fortune in trade, bought himself an estate in Kent and a knighthood. The Grimsby we’re talking about is pretty well to grass, or his father is. Set up a carriage and a team of bays I wouldn’t mind having myself. Grimsby plans to run for parliament — as a Tory, actually. Sorry, Luten. I tried to talk him out of it, but the family’s been true blue for eons. His father sent him to town to meet the right people, learn the ropes. Like any greenhead, Grimsby is running a bit wild and meeting all sorts.”
    “Perhaps you could speak to him, see if he knows any more about Russell,” Luten suggested.
    “I didn’t get the idea they were friends at all. It was Russell who accosted us. He had to remind Grimsby where they’d met. I’ve no idea where