'Well?' Pitt asked irritably. Gillivray might have ambition, and might consider himself a cut above the average policeman, as indeed he was, but that did not give him the right to walk in without the courtesy of asking.
'I've found it!' Gillivray said triumphantly, his face glowing, eyes alight. 'I've got it at last!'
Pitt felt his pulse quicken in spite of himself. It was not entirely pleasure, which was unexplainable. What else should he feel?
'The rooms?' he asked calmly, then swallowed hard. 'You've found the rooms where Arthur Waybourne was drowned? Are you sure this time? Could you prove it in a court?'
'No, no!' Gillivray waved his arms expansively. 'Not the rooms. Far better than that, I've found a prostitute who swears
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to a relationship with Jerome! I've got times, places, dates, everything-and perfect identification!'
Pitt let out his breath with disgust. This was useless-and a sordid contradiction he did not want to know. He saw Eugenie Jerome's face in his mind, and wished Gillivray had not been so zealous, so self-righteously successful. Damn Maurice Jerome! And damn Gillivray. And Eugenie, for being so innocent!
'Brilliant,' he said sarcastically. 'And totally pointless. We are trying to prove that Jerome assaulted young boys, not that he bought the services of street women!'
'But you don't understand!' Gillivray leaned forward over the desk, his face, shining with victory, only a foot from Pitt's. 'The prostitute is a young boy! His name is Albie Frobisher, and he's seventeen-just a year older than Arthur Wayboume.. He swears he's known Jerome for four years, and been used by him all that time! That's all we need! He even says Arthur Way-bourne took his place-Jerome admitted as much. That's why Jerome was never suspected before-he never bothered anyone else! He paid for his relationship-until he became infatuated with Arthur. Then, when he seduced Arthur, he stopped seeing Albie Frobisher-no need! It explains everything, don't you see? It all fits into place!'
'What about Godfrey-and Titus Swynford?' Why was Pitt arguing? As Gillivray said, it all fell into place; it even answered the question of why Jerome had never been suspected before, why he had been able to control himself so completely that his appearance was perfect-until Godfrey. 'Well?' he repeated. 'What about Godfrey?'
'I don't know!' Gillivray was confused fora moment. Then comprehension flashed into his eyes, and Pitt knew exactly what he was thinking. He believed Pitt was envious because it was Gillivray who had found the essential link, and not Pitt himself. 'Perhaps once he'd seduced someone he resented paying for it?' he suggested. 'Or maybe Albie's prices had gone up. Maybe he was short of money? Or, most likely, he'd developed a taste for a higher class of youth-a touch of quality. Perhaps he preferred seducing virgins to the rather shop-soiled skills of a prostitute?'
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Pitt looked at Gillivray's smooth, clean face and hated it. What he said might well be true, but his satisfaction in it, the ease with which the words came out between his perfect teeth, was disgusting. He was talking of obscenity, of intimate human degradation, with no more pain or difficulty than if they had been items on a bill of fare. Shall we have the beef or the duck tonight? Or the pie?
'You seem to have thought of every aspect of it,' he said with a curl of his lip, at once bracketing Gillivray with Jerome in intent-in nature of thought, if not in act. 'I should have dwelt on its possibilities longer, then maybe I would have thought of these things for myself.'
Gillivray's face flamed as sharp red as the blood rose, but he could think of no reply that did not involve language that would only confirm Pitt's charge.
'Well, I suppose you have an address for this prostitute?' Pitt went on. 'Have you told Mr. Athelstan yet?'
Gillivray's face lightened instantly, satisfaction returning like a tide.
'Yes, sir, it was unavoidable. I met him as I was
