Arthur, for Jerome himself, for Eugenie.
'Thank you.' Pitt sighed and looked up at Waybourne. 'I would appreciate it, sir, if you would give me Mr. Swynford's address so that I can call on him and verify this with Titus himself. You will understand that secondhand testimony, no matter from whom, is not sufficient.'
Waybourne took a breath as if to argue, then accepted the futility of it.
'If you insist,' he said grudgingly.
Titus Swynford was a cheerful boy, a little older than Godfrey. He was broader, with a freckled, less handsome face, but he
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possessed a natural ease that Pitt found attractive. Pitt was not permitted to see his young sister Fanny. And since he could put forward no argument to justify insisting, he saw only the boy, in the presence of his father.
Mortimer Swynford was calm. Had Pitt been less aware of society's rules, he might have imagined his courtesy to be friendliness.
'Of course,' he consented, in his rich voice. His manicured hands rested on the back of the tapestried antimacassar. His clothes were immaculate. His tailor had cut his jacket so skillfully it all but disguised the thickening of his body, the considerable swell of his stomach under his waistcoat, the heaviness of his thighs. It was a vanity that Pitt could sympathize with, even admire. He had no such physical defects to mask, but he would dearly like to have possessed even a fraction of the polish, the ease of manner with which Swynford stood waiting, watching him.
'I'm sure you won't press the matter any further than is absolutely necessary,' he went on. 'But you must have enough to stand up in court-we all understand that. Titus-' He gestured toward his son with an embracing sweep. 'Titus, answer Inspector Pitt's questions quite frankly. Don't hide anything. It is not a time for false modesty or any misplaced sense of loyalty. Nobody cares for a telltale, but there are times when a man is witness to a crime that cannot be permitted to continue, or to go unpunished. Then it is his duty to speak the truth, without fear or favor! Is that not so, Mr. Pitt?'
'Quite so,' Pitt agreed with less enthusiasm than he should have felt. The sentiment was perfect. Was it only Swynford's aplomb, his supreme mastery of the situation, that made the words sound unnatural? He did not look like a man who either feared or favored anyone. Indeed, his money and his heritage had placed him in a situation where, with a little judgment, he could avoid the need for pleasing others. As long as he obeyed the usual social rules of his class, he could remain exceedingly comfortable.
Titus was waiting.
'You were occasionally tutored by Mr. Jerome?' Pitt rushed in, aware of the silence.
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'Yes, sir,' Titus agreed. 'Both Fanny and I were. Fanny's rather clever at Latin, although I can't see what good it will do her.''
'And what will you do with it?' Pitt inquired.
Titus's face split with a broad grin.
'I say, you're rather odd, aren't you? Nothing at all, of course! But we aren't allowed to admit that. It's supposed to be fearfully good discipline-at least that's what Mr. Jerome said. I think that's the only reason he put up with Fanny, because she was better at it than any of the rest of us. It would make you sick, wouldn't it? I mean, girls being better at class, especially a thing like Latin? Mr. Jerome says that Latin is fearfully logical, and girls aren't supposed to have any logic.'
'Quite sick,' Pitt agreed, keeping a sober face with difficulty. 'I gather Mr. Jerome was not very keen on teaching Fanny?'
'Not terribly. He preferred us boys.' His eyes darkened suddenly, and his skin flushed red under his freckles. 'That's what you're here about, isn't it? What happened to Arthur, and the fact that Mr. Jerome kept touching us?'
There was no point in denying it; apparently, Swynford had already been very frank.
'Yes. Did Mr. Jerome touch you?'
Titus pulled a face to express a succession of feelings.
