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I cleared my throat as I considered the best way to broach the topic. In the end, I decided to be as direct as her. “Your husband had a certain reputation. I’m sorry, but I have to ask this…were you aware of it?”
I didn’t think her back could get any stiffer, but she seemed to become even more rigid. “You shouldn’t listen to gossip, Miss Fox.”
I waited, hoping the silence would force her to continue.
My tactic was rewarded a moment later. “My husband liked to cultivate an image of himself, one of a confident, successful athlete, a winner at life, work and play. It’s natural for the public to fall in love with that image. Men wanted to be like him, and women found him desirable. Some were quite brazen in their admiration. Perhaps that’s why the rumors have persisted over the years. You should ask yourselves who is spreading the rumors, and do they have anything to gain by tellingyouthat he kept mistresses?”
I was quite sure Floyd had nothing to gain, but it was possible he’d bought the lie because it fit the image Mr. Rigg-Lyon wanted to portray.
I was going to ask her about the ribbon but decided against it. It was very unlikely that it belonged to her. The color was all wrong. Coral didn’t suit a redhead. A stylish woman would never choose a color that didn’t suit her, and the woman seated opposite me certainly had style. Her black mourning outfit may have made her look ghostly, but it was superbly fitted and well-made with dozens of tiny butterflies embroidered on the bodice in silken black thread. She would have been a fetching woman if she weren’t so thin.
“Who do you think murdered him?” Harry asked.
Again, her hand curled into a fist on her lap. “I don’t like to point fingers.”
“Very well, let me put this to you. Mr. Broadman was the captain of the opposing team. He was also seen arguing before the match with your husband, and he was later found holding the murder weapon.”
“Mr. Broadman is like my husband. An athlete who enjoys the attention, who likes to win at all costs, and believes he’s the most important man at his club. Major Leavey, club manager at the Elms, would argue that he was more important, but the two don’t really get along.”
She knew the major? Indeed, she knew him well enough to make a statement like that. He’d lied to us. He’d denied knowing her. Why? Did it have something to do with him removing the ribbon from her husband’s body?
“Now, if there’s nothing else…”
“One more thing,” I said. “Your husband’s speech after the match informed everyone that he would not retire, after all. Were you aware of his change of heart?”
“Of course.”
“Mr. Hardwick, his vice-captain, was taken by surprise. He seemed angered by the news.”
“That’s a matter of opinion. As I said, Miss Fox, you shouldn’t listen to gossip.”
“It’s not gossip. I was there and saw his reaction.”
She looked at me anew, her gaze taking in my simple clothes, my lack of jewelry and hair ornaments. “Do you work at the Elms?”
“I was the guest of a member.”
“I see,” she said blandly. “I’m afraid I can’t answer your question. My attention was on my husband during the speech, not his teammates. If you want to know why Mr. Hardwick was angry, then you ought to ask him, not me.”
“Did they get along in general?” I persisted.
“They were friends. They’d known one another for years.” She reached for the bell on the table beside the sofa and rang it. “My housekeeper will see you out.”
The housekeeper bustled into the drawing room, her gaze flicking to her mistress. Without being asked, she handed Mrs. Rigg-Lyon a glass of water that had been sitting on another table. Mrs. Rigg-Lyon sipped as the housekeeper escorted us to the front door.
“The major lied,” I told Harry as we descended the front steps to the pavement. “He does know her.”
“I think Mrs. Rigg-Lyon lied, too,” he said. “I think she knew about her husband’s affairs and lied so we’d think she had no motive to kill him.”
We parted ways in Soho, each of us taking on a task to accomplish before we met up again in the morning. Harry’s task was to find out what he could from the police about their progress, and my task was to gather as much gossip about the Rigg-Lyons as I could. Given that my afternoon and evening were filled with social engagements, I would be in the perfect position to undertake my task.
I had a little time before I needed to change for afternoon tea, so I followed Frank into the staff parlor where he was scheduled to take a fifteen-minute break with a cup of tea and a biscuit. Later, any food not consumed at the formal afternoon tea in the large sitting room would be brought in here for the staff but, for now, the biscuit options were limited to gingerbread and shortbread.
Victor and Harmony were already there, along with Goliath and three maids. He excused himself from the young women who watched him go with disappointment. He might not be classically handsome, but his height and broad shoulders made sure he had admirers wherever he went.
Harmony and Victor sat close together, not speaking yet looking comfortable in one another’s company. A short while ago, Harmony would go out of her way to make it appear she didn’t like him, but Victor had persisted. He’d recognized the signs of her interest and pursued her until she could admit to herself that she liked him, even if she couldn’t admit it to the rest of us. Nowadays, he often walked her back to the residence hall where they both lived if he wasn’t on duty in the kitchen when she finished work. They talked quietly together in the staff parlor instead of bickering, and she no longer pretended not to watch him when he wasn’t looking. It was quite a breakthrough. Harmony could be frosty to those who didn’t know her well, and most men were put off by her crispness. Victor’s persistence showed how highly he regarded her.
My friend reminded me a little of Mrs. Rigg-Lyon. Both were direct and didn’t suffer fools. But the resemblance ended there. Harmony was down to earth, and had a wicked sense of humor that made her good company, whereas Mrs. Rigg-Lyon seemed as rigid in character as she was in appearance. She might be different with her friends, of course, which was something I planned to find out later.
