“Frustrating for you,” Livesey remarked, almost without expression. “I have no idea how I can help you. I know nothing more than I did then.”
“No sir, I had not held any hope that you did. But perhaps there are questions I omitted to ask which I might put to you now?”
“Of course.” Livesey sat down heavily in the chair close to the fire, which must have been lit long before he returned from court. He indicated the other chair opposite, not so much in an invitation as a request that Pitt should cease to stand over him. “Please ask what you must. I will try to be of service to you.” He sounded tired and as if the courtesy cost him a considerable effort.
“Thank you, sir.” Pitt reclined less than comfortably. He did not bother to go over Stafford’s visit to Livesey earlier that day, and the proof that the flask was uncontaminated when Stafford left. They had already exhausted that. He started with their meeting at the theater.
“You first saw him in the foyer, you said?”
“That is correct, but I did not speak to him then. There was a considerable crush of people, and a great deal of noise, as I daresay you recall?”
“Yes, indeed.” Pitt remembered vividly the air of excitement and expectation, the raised voices, the constant, jostling movement. Conversation would have been difficult. “Where did you go from there?”
Livesey thought for a moment. “I started off up the stairs towards my box, then in the gallery I saw someone I knew and was about to stop for a word when he was accosted by a woman I find exceedingly tedious, so I changed my mind and went back down again for about five minutes, by which time they were gone. I went up to my box then, and sat down alone from that time until the curtain went up.” He shrugged his heavy shoulders very slightly. “Of course I saw several other people I knew, taking their seats, but I spoke to none of them. One cannot, without making a spectacle of oneself.” He searched Pitt’s face curiously. “Is this really of any service to you, Inspector?”
“Not so far,” Pitt admitted. “But it may be. Anyway, I know nowhere else to look.”
“It will be regrettable if you are obliged to leave the matter unresolved,” Livesey said with a curious, bitter twist to his mouth. “Not, I imagine, what you wish.”
“I have not reached that stage yet.”
There was nothing so crude as disbelief in Livesey’s voice, or in the very gentle arching of his eyebrows. “Well, I shall certainly relate all that I remember of that evening, if you feel it may assist. You were in the box on the far side of him, one or two spaces away, as I recall. No doubt you saw all that I did.”
“I don’t mean anything of what happened in the box,” Pitt said quickly, then as he saw Livesey’s expression, realized his error. “No, that is foolish,” he corrected himself before Livesey could do so. “I do not know what is relevant. If you saw anything at all, please tell me.”
Livesey shrugged, and this time there was definitely humor in his face—dry, entirely intellectual, but very real.
“Of course. Naturally I did not spend the majority of the evening looking sideways at Mr. Stafford’s box, but I glanced that way on several occasions. He was sitting towards the back to begin with, a little behind Mrs. Stafford. I formed the opinion that he had come largely on her account. He did not seem to have his attention entirely upon the stage, but to be concerned with his own thoughts. Not surprisingly. I have taken my wife to many events for her pleasure, not my own.”
“Did he appear ill?”
“No, merely thinking. At least that is how it seemed to me. With the wisdom of hindsight I appreciate that he may have felt unwell.” Livesey was watching Pitt now, and his blue eyes were amused. “Are you trying to ask me if I saw him drink from his flask? I don’t believe so, but I cannot swear. He did reach for something from his pocket, but I was not paying sufficient attention to see what it was. I am sorry.”
“It is not of importance. He did drink from it at some time, that is beyond question,” Pitt said flatly.
“Indeed, tragically, that is true.” Livesey frowned. “Tell me, Pitt, what is it you hope to learn? If I knew I might be better able to answer you. I confess, I don’t see what you believe there is that could help. We know the poison was in the flask, and that he died of it. What assistance would it be if someone had seen him actually drink? Surely it is inescapable that it did happen?”
“Yes, of course it is,” Pitt conceded. “I admit, I don’t know. I am simply fishing for anything I can find.”
“Well, I cannot think of anything further to add. I saw him drift into what I took at the time to be a sleep. It was not remarkable. He would certainly not be the first man to sleep in the theater!” Again the flash of humor crossed his face. “It was only when I saw Mrs. Stafford’s agitation that I realized he was ill. Then, of course, I rose and went out of my own box and into theirs, to see if I could offer any assistance. The rest you know yourself.”
“Not quite. There is the interval. Did you leave your box?”
“Yes. I went to find a little refreshment, and to stand. One gets stiff sitting for so long.”
“Did you see Stafford leave his box?”
“No. I’m sorry.”
“Did you go to the gentlemen’s smoking room?”
“Very briefly. I looked in, and then left again immediately. To tell the truth there were one or two people there I preferred not to see. They insist on speaking of legal matters, and I wanted to enjoy an evening away from such things.”
“And you didn’t see Stafford until you returned to your box?”
“No. I’m sorry.” Livesey rose to his feet, pushing himself up from the arms of his chair. “I am afraid there is nothing else I can tell you, Inspector. Nor could I usefully suggest anywhere further for you to look, except into poor Stafford’s domestic life.”
“Thank you for sparing me your time.” Pitt stood up also. “You have been very patient.”
