Bethlehem Road

glowing in the lamplight.

'Come,' Drummond stood up. 'We'll get a mortuary van and take her away. Pitt, get your cab and take Sir Garnet home to . . . ?'

'Bethlehem Road,' Royce replied. 'Thank you. I confess, I feel suddenly very tired, and colder than I thought.'

'Naturally we're very grateful.' Drummond offered his hand. 'All London is much in your debt.'

'I'd rather you didn't mention my part,' Royce said quickly. 'It would seem . . .'He left the rest unsaid. 'And I-I'd like to pay for a decent burial for her. She was a good servant before . . . before she lost her reason.'

Pitt climbed back up onto the cab box. Drummond opened the door for Royce to climb in, and Pitt lifted the reins to urge the horse on.

Charlotte was asleep when Pitt got home, and he did not awaken her. He had no sense of the euphoria of having

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brought to a conclusion a long and dreadful case. The release of tension brought mostly weariness, and the next morning he slept in and had to rush out without breakfast.

He told Charlotte nothing. First he would make sure that what had seemed so apparent last night was really the truth. There would be time then to send her a message so she could tell Great-aunt Vespasia that Florence Ivory was no longer under suspicion. He simply told her the case was close to a conclusion, kissed her, and strode out of the house with her calling after him to explain.

Micah Drummond was already at the Bow Street Station. For the first time in weeks he looked as if he had slept without nightmares or frequent waking.

'Good morning, Pitt,' he said, and held out his hand. 'Congratulations, Chief Inspector. The case is closed. There is no doubt that wretched woman was responsible. There were other bloodstains on her clothes, old stains on her sleeves and apron, as there would be from the first murders. The razor had bloodstains on the blade and the handle. We checked with the chief medical officer at the Bethlehem lunatic asylum: she is Elsie Draper, committed for acute melancholia seventeen years ago and released from Bedlam two weeks before the murder of Lockwood Hamilton. She had never given them any trouble and seemed to have been a trifle simple, but never violent. A dreadful misjudgment, but there is nothing anyone can do now. The case is closed. The Home Secretary sent his congratulations this morning. The newspapers have printed extras.' He smiled slowly. 'Well done, Pitt. You can go home and take a few days off-you've earned it. You'll come back next week as Chief Inspector, with an office upstairs.' He held out his hand.

Pitt took it and held it hard. 'Thank you, sir,' he said graciously-but it was not what he wanted.

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12

jlitt returned home with a sense of relief only very slightly marred by a small question like a gnat bite at the back of his mind. The matter was closed. There could be no doubt whatsoever that Elsie Draper had been a criminal lunatic. She had murdered three men on Westminster Bridge and had tried to murder a fourth. Only Royce's courage in setting himself up as a decoy and the police who had warned and guarded him had prevented her almost certain success. And if it had not been Royce, it would have been someone else.

Now Pitt could take some time off and spend it with Charlotte and the children. Perhaps he could even get out into the garden. They could all work together, he with a spade, Jemima pulling weeds, Daniel carrying away rubbish, and Charlotte supervising. She was the only one who knew the overall design. He found himself smiling as he thought of it, as if his fingers were already in the earth, the warm sun on his back, and his family laughing and talking around him.

First Charlotte would go and tell Great-aunt Vespasia that Florence Ivory and Africa Dowell were no longer suspects.

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That would be one of the few real pleasures in this whole affair: to watch the fear and the anger disappear, to know the two women could pick up their lives again and begin to heal-that was, if they chose to, if Florence Ivory could let go of her rage.

He strode through the doorway and along the corridor to find Charlotte in the kitchen with her sleeves rolled up, kneading dough, and Grade on the floor on her hands and