Thomas Pitt Bluegate Fields

with a slight smile. 'Have you come down to inspect the policeman?'

'Certainly not!' She lifted her chin and returned her gaze to Pitt, regarding him from head to toe. 'I came to say that Uncle Esmond is here, and he promised me that when I am old enough to 'come out' he will give me a necklace with pearls in it for my seventeenth birthday, so I may wear it when I am presented at court. Do you suppose it will be to the Queen herself, or only the Princess of Wales? Do you imagine the Queen will still be alive then? She's fearfully old already, you know!'

'I have no idea,' Swynford answered with raised eyebrows, meeting Pitt's glance with amusement. 'Perhaps you could begin with the Princess of Wales, and progress from there-if the Queen survives long enough for you, that is?'

'You're laughing at me!' she said with a note of warning. 'Uncle Esmond dined with the Prince of Wales last week-he just said so!'

'Then I've no doubt it's true.'

'Of course it's true!' Esmond Vanderley appeared in the doorway behind Fanny. 'I would never dare lie to anyone as perceptive or as unversed in the social arts as Fanny. My dear child.' He put his arm on Fanny's shoulder. 'You really must leam to be less direct, or you will be a social disaster. Never let people know that you know they have lied! That is a cardinal rule. Well-bred people never lie-they occasionally misremem-ber, and only the ill-mannered are gross enough to remark it. Isn't that so, Mortimer?'

'My dear fellow, you are the expert in society-how could I dispute what you say? If you wish to succeed, Fanny, listen to your mother's cousin Esmond.' His words were perhaps a

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little tart, but, looking at his face, Pitt could see only goodwill. He also noted the relationship with a lift of interest: so Swyn-ford, Vanderley, and the Waybournes were cousins.

Vanderley looked over the girl's head at Pitt.

'Inspector,' he said with a return to seriousness. 'Still chasing up that wretched business about young Arthur?'

'Yes, sir, I'm afraid there is a lot more we need to know yet.'

'Oh?' Vanderley's face showed slight surprise. 'For example?'

Swynford made a slight movement with his arm. 'You may leave us now, thank you, Titus, Fanny! If your Latin requires improvement, then you had best be about studying it.'

'Yes, sir.' Titus excused himself to Vanderley, then a little self-consciously to Pitt, aware it was a socially unmapped area. Did he behave as if Pitt were a tradesman, and take his departure as a gentleman would? He decided on the latter, and collecting his sister's hand, much to her annoyance because her curiosity was overwhelming, he escorted her out.

When the door was closed, Vanderley repeated his question.

'Well, we have no idea where the crime took place,' Pitt began, hoping that with their knowledge of the family they might have some idea. A new thought occurred to him. 'Did the Waybournes ever possess any other property that might have been used? A country house? Or did Sir Anstey and Lady Wayboume ever travel and leave the boys behind with Jerome?'

Vanderley considered for a moment, his face solemn, brows drawn down.

'I seem to remember them all going to the country in the spring. . . . They do have a place, of course. And Anstey and Benita came back to town for a while and left the boys up there. Jerome must have been there-he does go with them, naturally. Can't ignore the boys' education. Poor Arthur was quite bright, you know. Even considered going up to Oxford. Can't think what for-no need _to work. Rather enjoyed the classics. Think he was meaning to read Greek as well. Jerome was a good scholar, you know. Damn shame the fellow was a homosexual-damn shame.' He said it with a sigh, and his

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eyes looked into some distance Pitt could not see. His face was sad, but without anger or the harsh contempt