Free A Body in Berkeley Square by Ashley Gardner Page B

did not
want there."
    "Turner?" I asked.
    "The servants could not say, in fact. None
of them heard a name."
    That disappointed me, but there was nothing
to be done. I asked Matthias, "During the ball that night, did you
by chance chat with Mr. Turner's valet?"
    "I did, sir," Matthias answered. "Name of
Hazelton. When he was brought the news that his master was dead
upstairs, you would have thought that Mr. Turner died just to upset
him. Hazelton was quite mournful about it, saying didn't he have
enough to do already without Mr. Turner up and getting himself
killed?"
    "That is interesting," I said. "You don't
happen to know where Mr. Turner's rooms are, do you?"
    Matthias started to answer, but Bartholomew
broke in cheerfully, "In Piccadilly, sir. Near the Albany. In fact,
Matthias says once Hazelton realized that his master was gone, he
was keen that we should come and help him drink up Mr. Turner's
claret."
    "I believe you should oblige him," I
said.
    Bartholomew winked. "Right you are, sir. You
would like to come along?"
    "Please," I rose, took up my walking stick,
and let the lads lead the way out.
     
    * * * * *

Chapter Six
     
    We took a hackney coach around St. James's
Street to Piccadilly. Mr. Turner had lived in rooms near Burlington
House and the Albany. The Albany was the former residence of the
Duke of York, which had been sold and converted into flats for the
very rich man-about-town. I noted that Henry Turner had taken
lodgings as close as he could to the house without having to pay
the exorbitant rent to live there.
    Turner's rooms consisted of a sitting room
and a bedchamber, one room in the front, one room in the rear. I
lived in similar accommodations, but Mr. Turner's rooms held a
comfort and warmth that mine would always lack.
    Mr. Turner, in fact, lived in a bit of
decadence. His furniture was either made of costly satinwood or had
been thickly gilded. I noticed Bartholomew and Matthias look around
in some distaste. Working for Lucius Grenville had given the two of
them experience with the best that money could buy, plus the taste
and moderation that made a thing worth having. Mr. Turner seemed to
have been the sort of young man more interested in what a thing
cost than in taste or moderation.
    We found Mr. Turner's valet, Bill Hazelton,
in the bedchamber, where he'd had emptied the armoire and spread
Turner's clothes over the bed, chairs, and every other available
surface. Hazelton wore drab black pantaloons that bagged around his
knees and ankles in preposterous wrinkles. His coat was of good cut
in last year's style, probably one of Turner's castoffs. His long
chin was covered with stubble, and his brown eyes were morose.
    "Oh dear," he said upon seeing us. "What
now?"
    Matthias reminded him that they'd had a
chin-wag at the Gillises' ball, and that he and his brother worked
for none other than Lucius Grenville. He introduced the man to
me.
    Hazleton glanced at me, categorized me, and
dismissed me. I would not be likely to hire an out-of-work valet,
and he knew it.
    "I would like to ask you a few questions
about your master, if I may," I began.
    Hazleton looked sorrowful. "Why? I never
killed him, and I don't know who did."
    "Mr. Grenville and I are simply curious," I
said.
    Hazleton regarded me dubiously, but he nodded
as he continued folded linen cravats.
    "How long were you Mr. Turner's manservant?"
I asked.
    "Seven years." Hazelton sounded depressed.
"All through his long Oxford years I looked after him. It was me
what had to lie to the proctor when Mr. Turner had been out all
night, me what had to roll him out of bed in the mornings and get
him to lectures. And what did he do? Wagered my pay on horses, he
did. And any other thing he could think of. Always kept good drink,
though."
    He trailed off wistfully. Servants' posts
were difficult to obtain, and no matter how irritating the master,
most preferred employment to the prospect of having to look for
work.
    "And then," Hazleton continued, "he went