'Don't be so stupid!' Pitt sank down with his head in his hands. 'Of course I'm damned well sure!'
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1 here was not time for the decencies of mourning to be ob
served. People's memories were short; details passed from
mind. Pitt was obliged to return to the Waybourne family the
next morning and begin the inquiries that could not wait upon
grief or the recapturing of composure. '
The house was silent. All the blinds were partway down, and there was black crepe on the front dodr. Straw was spread on the road outside to reduce the sound of carriage wheels passing. Gillivray had come in the soberest of garb, and stayed, grim-faced, two steps behind Pitt. He reminded Pitt irritatingly of an undertaker's assistant, full of professional sorrow.
The butler opened the door and ushered them in immediately, not allowing them time to stand on the doorstep. The hall was somber in the half-light of the drawn blinds. In the morning room, the gas lamps were lit and a small fire burned in the grate. On the low, round table in the center of the room were white flowers in a formal arrangement: chrysanthemums and thick, soft-fleshed lilies. It all smelled fainly of wax and polish and old sweet flowers, just a little stale.
Anstey Wayboume came in almost immediately. He looked pale and tired, his face set. He had already prepared what he intended to say and did not bother with courtesies.
'Good morning,' he began stiffly. Then, without waiting for a response, he contined: 'I assume you have certain questions it is necessary for you to ask. I shall do my best, of course, to give you the small amount of information I possess. I have given the matter some considerable thought, naturally.' He
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clasped his hands together and looked at the lilies on the table. 'I have come to the conclusion that my son was quite certainly attacked by strangers, perhaps purely from the base motives of robbery. Or I admit it is marginally possible that abduction was intended, although we have received no indication that it was so-no demand for any kind of ransom.' He glanced at Pitt, and then away again. 'Of course it may be that there was not time-some preposterous accident occurred, and Arthur died. Obviously, they then panicked.' He took a deep breath. 'And the results we are all painfully aware of.''
Pitt opened his mouth, but Wayboume waved his hand to silence him.
'No, please! Allow me to continue. There is very little we can tell you, but no doubt you wish to know about my son's last day alive, although I cannot see of what use it will be to you.
'Breakfast was perfectly as normal. We were all present. Arthur spent the morning, as is customary, with his younger brother Godfrey, studying under the tutelage of Mr. Jerome, whom I employ for that purpose. Luncheon was quite unremarkable. Arthur was his usual self. Neither his manner nor his conversation was in any way out of the ordinary, and he made no mention of any persons unknown to us, or any plans for unusual activity.' Waybourne did not move in all the time he spoke, but stood in exactly the same spot on the rich Aubusson carpet.
'In the afternoon, Godfrey resumed his studies with Mr. Jerome. Arthur read for an hour or two-his classics, I believe-a little Latin. Then he went out with the son of a family friend, a boy of excellent background and well known to us. I have spoken to him myself, and he is also unaware of anything unusual in Arthur's behavior. They parted at approximately five in the afternoon, as near as Titus can remember, but Arthur did not say where he was going, except that it was to dine with a friend.'' Waybourne looked up at last and met Pitt's eyes. ' 'I'm afraid that is all we can tell you.'
Pitt realized that there was already a wall raised against investigation. Anstey Waybourne had decided what had occurred: a chance attack that might have happened to anyone, a
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tragic but insoluble mystery. To pursue a resolution would not bring back the dead, and would only cause additional and unnecessary distress to those already bereaved.
Pitt could sympathize with him. He had lost a son, and in extraordinarily painful circumstances. But murder could not be concealed, for all its anguish.
'Yes, sir,' he said quietly. 'I would like to see the tutor, Mr. Jerome, if I may, and your son
