‘He didn’t like it. He said he didn’t know who Alexander was and he made his excuses and left.’
‘Why did Jane ask him those questions?’
‘She thought it was odd that he turned up shortly after that news about the letter was published in the Daily London News. She thought there might be a connection.’
‘She thought he was trying to buy your silence?’
‘Yes, that’s it.’
‘Why didn’t she tell anyone else this?’
‘Because I told her it was all nonsense and that we’d been instructed not to breathe a word of his visit to anyone. We’d been given a large sum of money and I thought it was best we remained quiet on the matter. It’s obvious Dr Jackson didn’t like Jane asking him those questions. I think he worried that she suspected him of something. He’s been arrested, has he?’
‘Yes,’ said Joyce. ‘Do you still believe your wife’s death was an accident?’
Mr Stanton rubbed his brow. ‘I don’t know. It sounded like an odd thing to happen, and Jane certainly wouldn’t have deliberately jumped from that window. I didn’t want to believe Jackson was behind it, but…’
‘But you think he could have been?’
‘I do now. Yes.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me this when I interviewed you?’
‘Because I couldn’t mention his visit! And I didn’t want to believe it could be true. You don’t know the man. There’s something about him which is—’
‘We’ve got a good measure of him,’ said Augusta. ‘And we have spoken with people who he has terrified into keeping silent for years.’
‘Really?’
‘He’s a rich and powerful man,’ said Philip. ‘He currently calls himself Anthony Ramsden and is the director of a pharmaceutical company called Hodgson Medicines.’
Mr Stanton was speechless for a moment. ‘Well I never,’ he said. ‘So he left prison and set himself up all over again as if nothing happened. How did he get away with it?’
‘Through fear and intimidation,’ said Philip. ‘And he denies ever knowing you and Jane.’
‘He denies it? But he was in our home a few weeks ago! And that night when Jane fell… he must have called at the flat while I was out. And she must have let him in, hoping that he might have news of her brother after all. It’s been warm recently and we’ve kept those windows in the sitting room wide open. He must have got hold of her and…’ He covered his face with his hands.
‘We’ve got him now, Mr Stanton,’ said Philip. ‘And justice will be done.’
Augusta waited for him to recover himself before she asked about the assault on Walter Ferguson.
‘Oh, that rat!’ he said. ‘He told me he’d provide me with an alibi and he didn’t. I don’t really know what he wanted from me, although he kept promising he would give me John Gibson’s letters so we could destroy them.’ He sighed. ‘It sounds silly, but Jane and I wanted those letters destroyed because we were worried we’d become suspects. Jane and Alexander had fallen out over the money he lent her, and we were worried the letters contained incriminating things about us. I don’t know how Ferguson got hold of the letters. Maybe he was bluffing.’
‘I think he got hold of them alright,’ said Augusta. ‘He sent a man to my flat to steal them.’
‘So he did have them?’
‘A search of his home should solve that,’ said Joyce, making a note.
‘But why did he want them?’ said Augusta.
‘So he could taunt me with the idea of getting hold of them, I suppose,’ said Mr Stanton. ‘And I think he wanted them so you couldn’t have them, Mrs Peel. He doesn’t like you very much.’
She laughed. ‘I’m aware of that, Mr Stanton. I shouldn’t admit this in front of a police detective, but I’m quite happy to hear you assaulted him.’
Chapter 61
‘Detective Sergeant Joyce wants us to meet him at Clerkenwell police station, Augusta,’ said Philip as soon as she arrived at her shop the following morning.
‘That sounds promising! But I’ve left Fred to manage the shop all alone for the past few days, I—’
‘Go on, Augusta,’ said Fred. ‘I’ll be fine. It sounds like you need to go.’
‘Thank you, Fred.’
Augusta and Philip hailed a taxi and arrived at the police station ten minutes later. They were shown to a room where Detective Sergeant Joyce sat with Anthony Ramsden and a weary-looking grey-haired man with thick spectacles.
‘Mr Havers!’ said Philip. ‘I haven’t seen you for some time. How are you?’
‘Tired.’
‘Oh.’
‘I’ve been awake all night examining letters and typewriters.’
‘Thank you. Hopefully, it will have been worth your while.’
Mr Ramsden glared at them as they sat.
