“Must be lying! Fellow who would do something fit to be blackmailed for could well be a liar as well. In fact must be! Or others would know about his crimes.”
“Doesn’t have to be a crime, sir,” Pitt said gently. “Could be something he merely preferred kept private, an indiscretion or misfortune. Perhaps like his daughter having an affair with a footman, and being with child before she was married, or-” he stopped. It was unnecessary to go on, Balantyne’s face was scarlet. Pitt waited.
“I’d see the fellow in hell before I’d pay him,” Balantyne said very quietly. “Believe me!”
“Would you?” Pitt asked, his voice mild, not a challenge, but a soft probing. “Your only daughter, just before her marriage to a most suitable man? Are you sure? Would you not perhaps consider it worth a small expense to protect her?”
Balantyne stared at him, his eyes wavering.
Pitt said nothing.
“I don’t know,” Balantyne said at last. “Possibly you’re right. But it didn’t happen. Freddie never came anywhere near me.” He looked down at the carpet. “Poor Sophie. I suppose she had no idea. Often wondered how Freddie managed to live so high on the hog. I had some knowledge of the size of his practice. Never occurred to me in the wildest moment-what a wretched business. Do you suppose he knew whose the babies were?”
“Perhaps,” Pitt replied. “But I rather doubt it. If he were pressing on that one, I think he might well have been killed a good deal earlier than this. Of course he may have known something without realizing its importance. I don’t know, that’s why I must question all the people upon whom he may have put pressure.”
“Nautrally. Of course you must. Well, I had no idea. I would regret having to do so, but if I could help you, I should.”
“Thank you. May I speak with Lady Augusta, please, and then with young Mr. Balantyne?”
Again Balantyne flushed uncomfortably.
“Lady Augusta can tell you nothing, I assure you, she has most certainly never done anything in her life to make blackmail possible! And she is not the manner of woman to be intimidated.”
Pitt agreed with this last observation, but if she had done anything, then in all probability it would be the general from whom she wished to keep it secret. He forbore pointing this out; it would only embarrass without serving any purpose.
“All the same, sir, she might be able to help me. I’m sure she is not a woman to gossip, but we are dealing with murder. I need any help I may be able to obtain.”
“Yes-yes, I suppose so. Very well.” Perhaps he also knew that the request was only a formality. Pitt could not be refused; he came with official power.
Augusta received him in the withdrawing room, still chilly with a newmade fire.
“Good morning, my lady,” Pitt began formally as the footman closed the door behind him.
“Good morning,” Augusta replied. She was a handsome woman, and she looked, if anything, a little more relaxed than when he had seen her last. “What can I do for you, Inspector? I have no idea who killed Freddie Bolsover, or why.”
“Why is not difficult,” Pitt replied, facing her squarely. “He was a blackmailer.”
“Indeed?” she raised her eyebrows slightly. “How very unpleasant. I had no idea. I suppose you are quite sure.”
“Quite,” he waited, wondering what she would say next.
“Then surely his victim is the one who murdered him? You cannot need me to tell you that!”
He smiled very slightly.
“That is to presume he had only one victim, my lady. Why should I presume that?”
She looked at him and the corners of her mouth curled upward very faintly.
“Quite. I should have thought of that myself. When you remark it, it is quite obvious. What is it you imagine I can tell you? I assure you, Freddie Bolsover was not blackmailing me.”
“Not over Miss Christina’s unfortunate business with the footman?”
She barely flickered.
“It is hardly police business, I would have thought.”
“Not at all. Its discovery was incidental. But you haven’t answered my question-did Dr. Bolsover not approach you on the matter?”
“Certainly not,” she smiled very faintly and looked at him without dislike. “I should not have paid him. I should have found some other way of dealing with him; as I did with Max, who did try it. I have more brain, and more imagination, Inspector, than to resort to violence.”
He grinned widely.
”I believe it, my lady. I hope if you think of anything that might help me, however slight, you will let me know, immediately. For heaven’s sake, don’t deal with this yourself. He has killed once, maybe more than once.”
“I give you my word,” she said convincingly.
He saw Brandy a little later in the same room.
“What’s happened now?” Brandy demanded. “Not someone else dead!”
“No, and I want to see that it does not happen again. I must find out who killed Dr. Bolsover, before he feels threatened again.”
“Threatened?” Brandy looked worried.
“Dr. Bolsover was a blackmailer, Mr. Balantyne. That is almost certainly why he was killed.”
“Who was he blackmailing, do you know?”
“Mr. Southeron, at least.”
“Good-Reggie didn’t kill him, surely?”
“You think that unlikely?”
“Well-yes-I do. Somehow Reggie just doesn’t seem like-to be honest, I wouldn’t think he had the nerve!” Brandy smiled apologetically.
“Nor I,” Pitt agreed. “He said it was Jemima Waggoner who killed Dr. Bolsover-”
“What?” All the color blanched from Brandy’s face. “Jemima? That’s idiotic! Why on earth would Jemima kill anyone?”
“Because she was his partner in blackmail, and she became greedy over the spoils, and they quarreled-”
“He’s a liar!” This time there was no mistaking Brandy’s emotion, it was rage. “That’s your answer! Reggie killed him, and is lying to protect himself. There’s the proof of it! If he said Jemima blackmailed him, then he’s a liar!” His face was set, angry and defensive.
“One can lie to cover many things, Mr. Balantyne,” Pitt said quietly. “Not necessarily murder. Mr. Southeron panics rather easily.”
“He’s a liar!” Brandy’s voice was rising. “You can’t believe she-Jemima-” he stopped suddenly, struggling to control himself. He swallowed and began again. “I’m sorry. I feel very strongly about it. I’m sure Jemima is innocent, and I shall find a way to prove it to you.”
“I shall be grateful for all help,” Pitt smiled. “Did Dr. Bolsover approach you, sir?”
“No. Whatever for?”
“Money, favors, anything?”
“Of course not!”
“I thought you might have been prepared to pay, for example, to protect Lady Carlton.”
Brandy flushed deeply.
“How did you know about that?”
Pitt evaded an answer.
“Did he?”
“No. I’m pretty sure he had no idea. It was hardly a thing he would come in contact with. I mean, he might have known she was with child, being a doctor, and so on; but nothing about me. But all that is less important than seeing that Jemima is cleared. Please, Inspector,” he hesitated, “please get to the bottom of that.”
Pitt smiled very gently.
“You care about her, don’t you?”
“I-” Brandy seemed lost. He looked up. “Yes-I–I think I do.”
