that would be true of many people. Perhaps it has nothing to do with this house at all? It was found on the area steps, wasn’t it? Anyone might have been there.’
Kynaston’s face pinched momentarily. Then the instant he was aware of Pitt looking at him, he smoothed the expression away. ‘Of course,’ he agreed. ‘Although we do not get troubled by passing strangers. We have few neighbours.’ It was an unnecessary comment; the truth of it was obvious. They were surrounded by open country, a few trees, and the large gravel pits that were common between Blackheath village and Greenwich Park.
‘Really, Dudley,’ Rosalind Kynaston said patiently, ‘people will always find a place! And this time of the year, the shelter of the areaway must be a great deal pleasanter than the open in the wind.’
Pitt allowed himself to smile. ‘No doubt,’ he conceded. ‘But could one of the people have been Kitty Ryder, in this case?’
‘I suppose so.’ She gave the slightest shrug, barely a movement of her rather graceful shoulders. ‘There’s a young man she walks out with now and then. A carpenter or something of the sort.’
Kynaston looked startled. ‘Does she? You never mentioned it!’
She regarded him with an expression that almost concealed her impatience. ‘Of course I didn’t. Why on earth would I? I hoped it would pass. He is not particularly appealing.’
Kynaston drew in his breath as if to say something, then let it out again, and waited for Pitt to speak.
‘You don’t care for the young man?’ Pitt asked Mrs Kynaston. ‘If she ended the acquaintance do you think he might have taken it badly?’
She considered for several moments before finally replying. ‘Actually, I had not thought so. I believed he had an affection for her, but that he had no prospects. Also, to be frank, I thought Kitty had more sense than to choose the area steps in the middle of a winter night to tell him so.’
‘She should have been safe enough just outside her own scullery door!’ Kynaston protested. His expression darkened. ‘Just how unsuitable was he?’
‘He wasn’t unsuitable, Dudley, he was just not as well as she might have done for herself,’ she explained. ‘Kitty is a very handsome girl. She could have been a parlour maid in the city, if she’d wished to.’
‘She didn’t wish to?’ Pitt was curious. What would keep a good-looking girl here in Shooters Hill if she could have been in one of the fashionable squares in London? ‘Has she family locally?’ he asked.
‘No,’ Rosalind assured him. ‘She comes from Gloucestershire. I don’t know why she didn’t take her chance in the city. I’m sure she had offers.’
It might be irrelevant, but Pitt made a mental note to look further into the reason for Kitty’s loyalty, if she did not very soon turn up alive and well.
‘I suppose your advice didn’t go down very well,’ Kynaston observed, looking at his wife. ‘I thought she had more sense.’ He turned to Pitt. ‘We appear to have wasted your time. I apologise. If there is anything at all to deal with, which there probably isn’t, then it is a police matter. If Kitty doesn’t turn up, or we have any reason to suppose she has been harmed, we’ll report it.’ He smiled and inclined his head a little, as if it were a dismissal.
Pitt hesitated, unwilling to let go of the matter quite so easily. Someone had been hurt on the areaway steps, possibly badly. Had it been a daughter of the house rather than a maid, no one would be dismissing it.
‘Can you describe Miss Ryder for me, sir?’ he asked, without moving.
Kynaston blinked.
‘How tall is she?’ Pitt elaborated. ‘What build? What colouring?’
It was Rosalind Kynaston who replied. ‘Taller than I am, at least a couple of inches, and very handsomely built.’ She smiled with a dry, private amusement. ‘She had excellent features, in fact were she a Society girl we’d say she was a beauty. She has a fair skin and thick, auburn hair with a wave in it.’
‘I think you’re being over-generous, my dear,’ Kynaston said with a slight edge to his voice. ‘She’s a lady’s maid who was being courted by a young man of very dubious background.’ He turned to Pitt again. ‘And as I’m sure you are aware, maids have a half-day off at the weekends, but stopping out in this manner is not acceptable — which, of course, is why she has done it on the sly. If you are still concerned, you might consider the possibility that she has eloped with him.’
Rosalind was saved from making a reply by the entry into the room of another woman. She was taller, in fact only two or three inches short of Kynaston’s own height, and her hair was silver blond. But it was her face that commanded attention, not by its beauty, which was questionable, but by the power of emotion in it, which was more arresting than mere regularity of feature. Her eyes were of a burning blue.
‘Have you found the housemaid yet?’ she asked, looking directly at Kynaston.
‘Lady’s maid,’ Rosalind corrected her. ‘No, we haven’t.’
‘Good morning, Ailsa,’ Kynaston said, rather more gently than Pitt thought he would have, in the circumstances. ‘Unfortunately not. This is Commander Pitt of Special Branch.’
Ailsa’s delicate eyebrows rose. ‘Special Branch?’ she said incredulously. ‘Dudley, you haven’t called in Special Branch, have you? For heaven’s sake, my dear, they have better things to do!’ She turned to stare at Pitt with new curiosity. ‘Don’t you?’ she challenged him.
‘My sister-in-law, Mrs Bennett Kynaston,’ Kynaston explained. Pitt saw a shadow of pain cross his face, dismissed instantly, but with an effort. He recalled that Bennett Kynaston had died roughly nine years earlier. Interesting that his widow had kept such close touch with the family, and clearly had not married again. She was certainly handsome enough to have had many opportunities.
‘How do you do, Mrs Kynaston?’ he replied to her. She was staring at him, her eyes wide, so he answered her question. ‘A young woman is missing and there is blood, hair and broken glass on the area steps — enough to indicate the possibility at least of a very nasty fight. The local police called us because they are aware of Mr Kynaston’s importance to both the navy and the Government, and how serious any threat to him might be. If it turns out to be no more than a very unpleasant lovers’ quarrel, then we shall leave it to them to take what action is necessary. At the moment Miss Ryder appears to be missing.’
Ailsa shook her head. ‘You need to replace her, Rosalind. Whether she comes back or not, she is clearly no better than she should be, as they say.’
A look of anger crossed Rosalind’s face, but so quickly Pitt was not absolutely certain he had seen it at all. Had he imagined it, because he knew how his own wife, Charlotte, would have felt about such high-handed instruction from anyone else — even her sister Emily, close as they were in affection?
Before Rosalind could frame a reply, Pitt intervened, speaking to Kynaston. ‘We shall keep the case open until Kitty Ryder is found, or you have some news of her, whatever it may be,’ he said. ‘In the meantime, she appears not to have taken any of her belongings with her. The housekeeper told me even her nightgowns and hairbrush are still in her room. In light of that, we have to assume she did not plan to leave. If you discover anything of value missing from the house, please inform the local police. I would suggest that you be more than usually diligent in making certain that the doors are locked at night. You might inform your butler of the possibility of robbery …’
‘I dare say that is what it is,’ Kynaston agreed. ‘Most unpleasant. She came to us with good references. But your advice is well placed, and I shall certainly take it. I am obliged to you.’
‘I don’t believe Kitty would be involved in robbing us,’ Rosalind said with some heat, a slight flush on her pale cheeks.
‘Of course you’re reluctant to think so,’ Ailsa said gently, moving a step closer to her sister-in-law. ‘She was your personal maid, and you trusted her. One does! Usually one is right, but anyone can be misled, now and then. I understand she fell in with a very nasty type of young man, and we all know they can take people in — heaven knows, even in the best families, let alone a girl far from her home, working as a maid.’
The truth of the remark was unarguable, but Pitt saw in Rosalind’s face disbelief and frustration that she could not defend her feelings.
‘Quite.’ Kynaston nodded at Ailsa, and then turned to his wife. ‘Perhaps you could use Jane for a while. You like her, and she seems quite capable, until we get someone else to fill the place.’
‘What about Kitty?’ Rosalind said sharply. ‘For heaven’s sake, Dudley, she’s only been gone a few hours! You’re speaking as if she were dead and buried!’
‘Even if she returns, my dear, she is obviously unreliable,’ he said more gently. ‘I think this is the best decision.’ He turned to Pitt. ‘Thank you again for your promptness, and your advice, Commander. We won’t detain you any longer. Good day.’
