Page 79 of A Whisper at Midnight

Pollard sent his wife an appreciative glance before returning his attention to Tilda. “I would have found a way to persuade Louis to permit his brother to invest. The man wasn’t making his payments, and I’d planned to speak with the solicitor.”

“Louis Chambers wanted so badly to be a successful businessman, but the truth was that he was terrible at managing financial matters. He was a prideful fool,” Mrs. Pollard said with considerable vitriol.

“Are you very involved in this business, Mrs. Pollard?” Tilda asked.

Mrs. Pollard lifted her chin and met Tilda’s gaze, her eyes glittering. “I am the head designer and oversee all the seamstresses. Furthermore, my husband wants me to be.”

“I am very impressed,” Tilda said, meaning it. “I admire an enterprising woman—and the man who supports her.”

Mrs. Pollard appeared to relax, her features softening slightly and her body losing a measure of stiffness that had been present since their arrival.

“Did either of you have occasion to visit the Chambers’ home?” Tilda asked.

The Pollards exchanged a brief look, which gave Tilda her answer.

“On occasion,” Pollard replied. “Louis often hosted dinner parties. We attended one a few weeks ago.”

Tilda inclined her head. “Who else was in attendance?”

Pollard shrugged. “A couple of gentlemen from the club and their wives.”

“Thank you, Mr. Pollard,” Tilda said with a benign smile. She looked over at Hadrian. “Do you have any questions?”

Hadrian inclined his head, then fixed his gaze on Pollard. “You’ve known Louis for quite some time. Can you tell me why he despised me? I truly have no idea as to the cause.”

Pollard blinked. “I can’t say that I recall. He was clear in his dislike of you—hatred, really—but I don’t know that he ever said why.”

Tilda was sure that answer disappointed Hadrian and shot him a sympathetic glance. Taking a step to her right, she looked about the shop. “How close are you to opening?”

“I’m not sure,” Pollard said on a frustrated sigh. “We don’t have enough inventory to sell yet.”

Mrs. Pollard sent him a heated stare. “That’s because there hasn’t been enough money to buy the supplies I need to sew. With Oliver investing now, I hope we can open within a few weeks.”

“I thought you were finished with your questions,” Pollard said curtly, though Tilda had not said that. “Neither my wife nor I had anything to do with Louis’s murder.”

“I didn’t say you did,” Tilda said patiently. “However, I’d say his demise worked out well for you.”

Pollard scowled, and Mrs. Pollard took a few steps toward Tilda. “Louis Chambers was most definitely a problem, and no, I can’t say we’re sorry that he will no longer cause us distress or financial hardship. We will open the shop of our dreams, in spite of him.” She sent her husband a confident look, and he nodded in response, his eyes crinkling with emotion.

“Thank you for your time,” Tilda said. “I’m sure we’ll see you at the funeral.” She pivoted and noticed that Hadrian had moved toward the case where Mrs. Pollard had been standing. His fingertips were pressed along the top edge.

Then he removed them and brushed his hand along his temple. He turned and bid good day to the Pollards before opening the door for Tilda.

Outside, she asked, “How is your head?”

He narrowed one eye at her briefly. “Aches a bit, but it should ease soon, I think.”

She paused before they reached the coach, so they were not within Leach’s hearing. “What did you see in the shop?”

“Something that will probably make you want to learn all you can about Joanna Pollard.”

“I’ll tell you in the coach,” Hadrian said.

Tilda’s eyes gleamed with anticipation. This was how she looked when her mind was turning over information and the thrill of investigation had a firm hold on her. “If what you’re going to say will prompt questions about Mrs. Pollard, we should see what we can learn about the woman. Do you recall Flanders mentioning that Mrs. Pollard had worked for someone called Madame Ousset?”

“I do,” Hadrian replied with a nod, delighting in Tilda’s excitement. “Shall we stop in at the millinery and ask where we can find her?”

Tilda grinned. “Precisely what I was thinking.”