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“I’d wager she’s ill. She looks sickly.”
We agreed that questioning the doctor would get us nowhere, but we disagreed on whether it was worth asking Mrs. Rigg-Lyon about her ailment. I didn’t think she’d tell us anything, but Harry thought she might if he informed her that her husband thought she’d been having an affair. We were discussing whether the regular visits to the doctor were relevant to the murder at all when Mrs. Rigg-Lyon emerged, tucking an envelope into her bag.
She stopped at the top of the steps when she spotted us. “Did you follow me here?”
“Mrs. Rigg-Lyon, may we have a word?" I asked.
“Why did you follow me? What does my medical appointment have to do with my husband’s death?”
“That’s what we’re trying to find out.” Now that we’d been caught, we might as well see if we could gather any useful information. I had an inkling how the visits could be linked to the murder, but I didn’t want to reveal it to her.
She advanced down the steps towards us. “This is an outrageous breach of my privacy.”
“We apologize for following you,” I went on. “But we’re trying to solve a murder, and sometimes that requires us to use unorthodox methods.”
“I understand that, Miss Fox. But you’re wasting your time with me. I did not kill my husband. Why would I? I’m dying.”
What does one say to that? “I’m sorry,” I muttered, although it felt woefully inadequate. Her admission took me by surprise, although the dire prognosis didn’t. She looked so thin and drawn, a walking skeleton dressed in the color of death.
Harry offered to assist her into the carriage. “Thank you for your honesty. We’re very sorry to have troubled you.”
She took his hand, but the effort required to get up the step to the hansom’s seat was still too much. He almost had to lift her and when she eased onto the seat, her breathing was heavy and uneven. Once she was settled, Harry closed the panel that protected her skirts from dirt flicked up by the horses.
“I know you think I was jealous and angry over my husband’s affairs, and you’re right. I was. But when I learned that the cancer was going to kill me, everything changed. Iwantedhim to find happiness with another.”
Harry moved away from the hansom as it drove off, then we returned to our waiting cab. “Do you believe her?” he asked.
“I believe that she’s dying. But I don’t believe she wanted Vernon to be happy with another woman after she’s gone, particularly with the woman he was already keeping as his mistress. Besides, her dying makes it easier for her to murder him. If she’s caught and sentenced to hang, it matters little to her since she’s going to die anyway. By telling us her prognosis, I don’t think she’s exonerated herself. I think she gave us a better motive.”
We partedways at Harry’s office and agreed to meet inside the grounds of the polo club. I returned to the hotel to change into an outfit suitable for a high-society picnic then met Flossy in her suite before heading downstairs.
“Why do we have to go with Mrs. Hessing?” she whined as we waited for the lift. “I like Clare, but her mother is awful.”
The lift door opened and John the operator greeted us.
“She’ll find some friends to chat to,” I said as we descended. “We can do as we please. Oh, and Flossy. Will you keep Miss Hessing busy when I’m not there?”
She frowned. “Where will you be?”
“Investigating.”
She didn’t have a chance to protest because the lift stopped on the ground floor, and the Hessings were waiting for us when John opened the door.
Miss Hessing took our hands and squeezed. Her face glowed, making her look very well indeed. “I’m so pleased we’re going together. It’ll be such fun.” She held us back and let her mother walk ahead across the foyer. “Mr. Liddicoat will be there. I’m going to try to get away to meet him. If I do, will you make sure my mother is occupied so she doesn’t worry?”
“Of course,” I said, squeezing back. “Flossy and I will both be on mother-minding duty. Won’t we, Flossy?”
My cousin looked like she wanted to throttle me. I wasn’t surprised. If I was investigating, and Miss Hessing was having a rendezvous with Mr. Liddicoat, Flossy would be left alone with Mrs. Hessing.
Being a Wednesday,the crowd wasn’t as large as the one that gathered for the previous Saturday’s cup final. Even so, I couldn’t immediately find Harry. I did, however, run into Floyd, who had seen my sleuthing partner a few minutes earlier, so he told me through lips pursed so tightly they hardly moved.
“You got him a voucher, didn’t you?”
“Mr. Hobart did, if you must know.”
“Using your name, no doubt.”
“He probably used yours, since the Bainbridge name holds more weight than the Fox one.” I tried to step around him, but he blocked my path. “Don’t make a scene, Floyd.”
