A Very Messy Business In Belgravia

Chapter Four

Gabriel Carrington stood in front of the door to a large townhouse in Belgrave Square.  As he had correctly predicted, it had been only a few days since his first meeting with Lady Claremont, and yet here he was, calling on her directly.

After she left his office, he had wasted no time in looking into the woman.  He did not consider it necessary to verify her story.  It would have been a very strange thing to make up and, in any event, easily disproven.  Instead, his goal was to find out as much as he could about her so that he could come to a decision on whether or not to bring her into his confidence.

By all accounts, Amalthea Huntley was an interesting character.  People would describe her as unconventional, yet when he had questioned why, they could not think of one instance where she had defied the rules of social etiquette.  When he thought about it, it was rather ingenious of her, or just incredibly lucky.  She gave no valid reason to be shunned by the rest of London society, yet the fact that she was expected to act a little out of the ordinary gave her a measure of freedom that a woman of her status would not normally receive.

Those with personal knowledge of the countess had described her as intelligent, witty and loyal to her friends.  She was generally well-liked, as her husband had been, and many in the circles in which they moved had been genuinely saddened by his passing.  Of course, much of the information he had gathered had been out of date, little having been seen of the woman since the earl's death.  However, it was not inconsistent with the impression he had formed of her after their meeting, and the decision that he finally made had led him to this moment, standing in front of her townhouse.  He stepped forward and rang the bell.

Amalthea sat at the writing desk in the corner of the drawing room after lunch, scribbling away furiously.  The last few days had been rather productive, she thought.  She had decided to target the low-hanging fruit first, and eliminate anyone who had attended the Grey townhouse in the several weeks pre-dating the death who had either visited too few times to regularly administer a dose of poison, or had not strayed from the property's main reception rooms when there.

Several admittedly awkward conversations had resulted in her crossing all but a few names off her list, and the ones remaining seemed highly unlikely to have the means or motive for doing away with Charlotte's aunt. 

She glanced up as the door opened.  It was James.

"A gentleman has called to see you, Your Ladyship."  His tone was vaguely disapproving.  She picked up the card from the offered tray, and smiled.

"Show him in, James."  Standing, she unconsciously ran her hands over her dress, smoothing out some of the non-existent creases.

There was a brief period of silence when Gabriel Carrington walked in.

The two had last parted on what could be said to be unusual terms, so it was difficult for both to know how to open the conversation now.  Amalthea fell back on etiquette.

"Mr Carrington, take a seat.  James, some tea please."

She sat down on the nearest chair, but the private detective did not take her lead.  She resisted the urge to roll her eyes.  Having to look up at the man was extremely annoying, but she would appear rather foolish if she jumped to her feet now, so soon after depositing herself on the upholstery.  Determined not to be beaten, she raised her chin and looked him directly in the eye.

"How nice to see you again so soon.  To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"  She smiled sweetly, and the expression looked so out of place that Gabriel supressed a small laugh.

"Forgive my calling on you without advance notice, Lady Claremont," he began.  "I have considered the matter we discussed in my office the other day, and I feel it would be remiss, and unreasonable, of me if I did not take my client's wishes into account."