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“No.” He scoffed.
“But she was flirtatious.”
“Aren’t all those girls?”
Everything within me recoiled. I wanted to rebuke him for painting every woman in the entertainment industry with the same brush, but I needed him to talk. I stayed silent in the hope he’d fill the void. Harry remained still, too.
Mr. Hardwick fell into the trap. “I don’t think Rosa had other lovers, but it’s true that she was a flirt. That’s why Broadman believed he was in with a chance. She teased him, led him like a puppy on a leash, and made him fall in love with her.” He sniffed. “But when it came to it, she rejected him.”
“I didn’t think you and Mr. Broadman were close,” I said. “How do you know this?”
He picked up a letter he’d been writing when we came in and pretended to read it. “Common knowledge.”
“Hardly.”
He lowered the letter. “And how would either of you know what’s common knowledge amongst gentlemen of a certain caliber?”
My coiled insides tightened further.
Harry was as collected as always, however. “You once told us Rigg-Lyon kept other lovers and that Rosa would have known about them. Can you tell us their names?” An excellent question, and one we should have asked last time.
“There was no one he was serious about. Rosa was his favorite, but she knew where she stood in the scheme of things. I’m sure he explained that to the other women who benefited from his attention.”
A woman holding a piece of paper hovered in the doorway. She signaled to the door behind Mr. Hardwick, which led to the deputy governor’s office.
“One moment,” Harry told her before Mr. Hardwick could respond. He gave her a smile and she smiled back, dipped her head, then disappeared from sight. Harry turned to Mr. Hardwick. “Panther was being doped with cocaine.”
Mr. Hardwick’s jaw dropped. He stared at Harry. “No! That’s an outrageous lie! Who’s spreading that despicable rumor?”
“So you didn’t know?”
The square jaw suddenly hardened. “How could I, when it’s not true?” He stabbed a finger into the desk. “Is it Broadman? Is that who concocted such a ridiculous story?”Stab, stab, stab. “It was him, wasn’t it? He can’t face the fact we beat him. He’s a poor loser.”Stab, stab, stab. “Panther is naturally quick. They come from good stock.”
“They?”
“My horse, Leopard, is Panther’s brother. They were bred at my father’s stables. Their sire was a champion polo pony. There’s no need to dope animals with that pedigree. They’re born superior. By claiming Panther was being doped, you’re tarnishing my family’s reputation as breeders of quality. It’s not on.” He signaled to the woman at the door who’d returned and seemed anxious to come in. “If there’s nothing else, I have work to do.”
We waited until we were outside to discuss Hardwick’s claims. “He seemed adamant that Panther wasn’t doped,” I said.
“He can deny it all he wants, but if the evidence states otherwise…” He hailed a cab and we waited for it to pull over. “We need to speak to Bert and get to the bottom of it.”
“What did you think about his claim that Rosa’s flirting led Broadman on, like a puppy on a leash?”
“Hardwick seemed angry towards her about it. A little too much, if you ask me, considering it’s Broadman he doesn’t like. Why not place the blame on him?”
“Because he was referring to himself, not Broadman. Everything he accused Broadman of doing with Rosa actually happened to him.”
Harry agreed with my theory. “But that doesn’t help build a case against him. If anything, it exonerates him. His anger was directed at Rosa, not Rigg-Lyon. He didn’t seem jealous of his friend, just annoyed that his mistress rejected him. He has no motive for the murder.”
“Perhaps. But we need to remember that he has no alibi for the time of the murder. He claims he was in the privy but admits no one saw him leave because the foyer was empty. The major’s assistant said he wasn’t manning his desk in the foyer at the time because he was in the restaurant helping tidy up, so that detail of Hardwick’s is feasible, at least.”
The hansom stopped and Harry assisted me up the step then settled beside me on the seat. “Where to now?”
“I have to return to the hotel. I’ve got yet another luncheon to attend.”
He opened the panel in the roof and gave the driver instructions before closing it again. “Who are you having lunch with?” It was an innocent question, but the hint of intrigue with which he voiced it made it sound like my answer mattered.
I turned to face him squarely. “Friends of my aunt’s. Why?”
