patronize that sort of place deserve all they get! We're not the keepers of the public morals, Pitt-or of public health. None of our business. Homosexuality is a crime, and so it should be, but we haven't the men to prosecute it. Need to catch them at it if we're going to take it to court.' He snorted with distaste. 'If you haven't got enough to do, I'll find you something more. London's teeming with crime. Go out any door and follow your nose, you'll find thieves and blackguards all over the place.' He bent down again over the letters in front of him, dismissing Pitt by implication.
Pitt stood motionless on the bright carpet.
'And Godfrey Waybourne and Titus Swynford also, sir.'
For a second there was silence; then Athelstan raised his eyes 157
very slowly. His face was purple; veins appeared that Pitt had never noticed before, plum-colored, on his nose.
'What did you say?' he demanded, sounding every word distinctly, as though he were talking to someone slow- witted.
Pitt took a deep breath. 'I want to make sure that no other people have been infected by the disease,' he said rephrasing it more tactfully. 'Not only Frobisher, but the other two boys.'
'Don't be ridiculous!' Athelstan's voice rose, a note of hysteria creeping into it. 'Where on earth would boys like that contract such a disease? We're talking about decent families, Pitt-not something out of your bloody rookeries. Absolutely not! The very idea is an insult!'
'Arthur Waybourne had it,' Pitt pointed out quietly.
'Of course he did!' Athelstan's face was suffusing with blood. 'That perverted animal Jerome took him to a damned prostitute! We've proved that! The whole damnable affair is closed! Now get on with your job-get out and leave me to do some work myself!'
'Sir,'' Pitt persisted. ' 'If Arthur had it-and he did-how do we know he didn't give it to his brother, or his friend? Boys of that age are full of curiosity.'
Athelstan stared at him. 'Possibly,' he said coldly. 'But no doubt their fathers are better acquainted with their aberrations than we are, and it is most certainly their business! There is no conceivable way, Pitt, in which it is yours!'
'It would put rather a different light on Arthur Waybourne, sir!'
'I have no desire to put any light on him whatever!' Athelstan snapped. 'The case is closed!'
'But if Arthur had relationships with the other two boys, it would open up all kinds of possibilities!' Pitt pressed, taking a step forward to lean over the desk.
Athelstan sat as faraway as he could, resting against the back of his chair.
'The private-habits-of the gentry are no business of ours, Pitt. You will leave them alone!' He spat out the words. 'Do you understand me? I don't care if every one of them got into
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bed with every other one-it doesn't alter the fact that Maurice Jerome murdered Arthur Waybourne. That is all that matters to us. We have done our duty and what happens now is their own concern-not yours and not mine!'
'But what if Arthur had relationships with the other boys?' Pitt clenched his fist on the desk, feeling the nails dig into his flesh. 'Maybe it had nothing to do with Jerome.'
'Rubbish! Absolute nonsense! Of course it was Jerome- there's evidence! And don't tell me we haven't proved where he did it. He could have hired a room anywhere. We'll never find it and no one expects us to. He is homosexual! He had every reason to kill the boy. If it came out, the best he could hope would be to be thrown onto the street without a job or a good reputation. He'd be ruined.'
'But who says he is homosexual?' Pitt demanded, his voice rising as loudly as Athelstan's.
Athelstan's eyes were wide. There was a bead of sweat on his lip-and another.
