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“Mr. Livingstone, did you mean what you said last night?”
He swallowed heavily. “Wh… What did I say?”
“You said you would have your revenge on the gossipers, and that the last person who wronged your daughter found his way to an early grave
He closed his eyes and groaned.
“Mr. Livingstone, you must see how it looks. You implied that you killed Ambrose McDonald after he spread rumors about Amelia. We know you met with him in the library just a short time before he died. Is that when you did it?”
His eyes sprang open. “It wasn’t me! I have an alibi.”
He remained seated, allowing me to relax a little. Accusing him in his own office had been a gamble, but one I’d been prepared to take. It could have gone terribly wrong, however, hence I’d left the door open.
I flexed my fingers around the knife I held inside my pocket but did not release it. “You didn’t mention an alibi last time we spoke. Nor did you deny going to the library.”
“That’s because I did go to the library to speak to McDonald. But someone saw me leave and must have also seen McDonald alive at that time. I didn’t mention the witness last time because I was hoping to keep his name out of it. We met outside the library and went to a sitting room. The room was decorated in a lot of pink.” He wagged a finger at me. “I remember seeing a large stuffed ginger cat by the sofa. Ugly looking thing. That’s why I remember it.”
“Rooms don’t make very good alibis. I’m afraid you’ll have to tell me who you were with and why.”
“He’s a gentleman who wanted to negotiate terms for the marriage of Amelia to his son. A fine, noble gentleman of upstanding character; determined too. He was prepared to agree to very favorable terms. You see, there were several others vying for Amelia’s hand, so he wanted to work quickly.” A flicker of pain crossed his face and he lowered his head. He pressed his fingers into his eyes. “I cannot believe this is happening. It was all going so well. The suitors lined up to dance with her. They were captivated by her beauty, her wit and charm. And with my money, she could have had her pick of them. I managed to secure the best for her. With the deal as good as sealed, I refused to bow to McDonald’s demands for his silence. I refused to pay him.”
“You told him that when you met with him in the library?”
“Before that. At the beginning of the night. It was much later when I asked to meet him in the library. As soon as I heard the first rumor blackening Amelia’s good name, I knew I needed to do something quickly. So I met with McDonald again and promised to pay his dirty money if he stemmed the tide of his vile gossip. Then I left the library and that’s when I met my daughter’s future father-in-law.”
“You sealed the deal with him.”
He gave a nod, but it was not convincing. I suspected the terms of the agreement required Amelia to remain pure. Mr. Livingstone knew the deal had been snatched from his grasp at the last moment.
It sounded like a business arrangement because that’s precisely what it was. For people like the Livingstones, emotions rarely mattered when finding a marriage partner. Feelings counted for nothing. The best deal for both parties was all that counted. Last night’s outburst had been a result of Mr. Livingstone knowing the deal was off.
“Who was the gentleman?” I asked.
“I’m afraid I can’t tell you. I haven’t seen him since…” He cleared his throat. “I haven’t seen him lately. I need to speak to him before…”
“Ineed to speak to him to verify your alibi.”
He picked up his pen and dipped it into the ink. “No. Out of the question. I can’t have you badgering him.”
I stood. “I understand. Unfortunately I’ll have to inform Scotland Yard of your reluctance to co-operate. They’ll return shortly, at which point one of two things will happen. You will give them the name of this so-called alibi—"
“’So-called!’ But he exists!”
“And your neighbors and staff will see the uniformed policemen and wonder why they’re here. Or you will refuse to answer their questions so the police will be forced to interrogate the guests at the Bunburys’ ball and discover which gentleman you met. Again, the uniformed officers may cause a stir.”
His nostrils flared. “You know how to get your way.”
Honey be damned. Sometimes hammers were the only thing that got the job done. I waited patiently for him to write down a name and address on a notepad. He tore off the page and handed it to me.
The name came as a surprise. I knew it, although I’d never met him. I schooled my features so as not to give away to Mr. Livingstone that I was a guest at the ball, not a maid, and was familiar with the family.
I headed back to Harry’s office. I wasn’t sure I wanted to confront Mr. Livingstone’s alibi on my own. Indeed, I wasn’t sure I should confront him at all.
What if Jonathon was there? What would he do if he saw me speaking to his father?
I spotted Harry in the café through the window, chatting to Luigi at the counter and sipping coffee. They both looked around upon my entry.
“Ah, there she is,” Luigi said, as if they’d been talking about me. “Coffee, Miss Fox?”
