“How do you do, sir,” Victor said stiffly, then retired a pace or two to stand a little behind his mother.
“How kind of you to come,” Mina asserted herself, leaning forward with a fragile smile, first to Thora, then to Victor. “Please do sit down. It is a very warm day. May I offer you some refreshment? You will stay a little while, won’t you?” It was more than a polite invitation, it was definitely a request.
“Of course, my dear, if you wish it.” Thora arranged her skirts so as not to crush them, and perched graciously on one of the bright red overstuffed chairs. Victor remained standing behind her, but he adopted a pose in which he looked quite at ease.
“The superintendent was just asking us if Oakley could have called upon anyone in the neighborhood last night,” Mina continued. “But of course we do not know the answer.”
Thora looked at Pitt with wide sharp eyes. She was a very comely woman, fair-skinned, her features regular and full of intelligence and humor and, he thought, a very considerable underlying strength.
“You surely cannot imagine anyone Captain Winthrop knew could have done such a—an insane thing,” she said critically. “That is inconceivable. If you had had even the merest acquaintance with him, such a thought would never enter your head. He was an entirely excellent man….”
Mina smiled nervously. Her hand jerked up as if to her face, then instead touched the black lace at her throat.
Bart winced and his hand tightened on her shoulder, almost as if he were supporting her, even though she was seated.
Victor stood perfectly still, his expression unchanging.
“He was a naval officer,” Thora went on, still looking at Pitt, and apparently unaware of the emotion in the room. “I think you cannot realize what sort of life such men lead, Superintendent. He was not unlike my late husband.” She straightened her shoulders a fraction. “Victor’s father. He was a lieutenant, and would certainly have reached captain had he not been taken from us in so untimely a fashion.” Her face lit with an inner radiance. “Such men have great courage and are powerful both as to character and person. And of course you cannot command in dangerous situations, such as obtain at sea, if you are not an excellent judge of men.” She shook her head to dismiss such a weakness. “Captain Winthrop would not have kept the acquaintance of anyone of such violence and instability as to attack another person in so heinous a fashion. He must have been set upon by lunatics, that is the only possible answer.”
“I was not imagining it to be an acquaintance, ma’am,” Pitt said, not entirely truthfully. “I was wondering if anyone else might have seen him, and thus know where he was and at what time he was last seen alive.”
“Oh—I see,” she conceded. Then she frowned. “Not that I understand how that would help. There can hardly be hordes of
“I’m sure one can, my dear,” Mina murmured. “This is all a nightmare. I still think it may have been some sort of hideous accident—or foreigners perhaps.” She looked at Pitt. “I have heard that the Chinese take opium, and it does all sorts of—well …”
“It sends them to sleep,” Bart contradicted. “It doesn’t make them violent.” He glanced at Pitt. “Is that not so, Superintendent?” He did not wait for an answer but continued to speak to Mina. “No, I think, quite frankly, that it is someone from Oakley’s ship who has had a quarrel with him and has maybe drunk too much and lost his temper and his self-control. I have known drink, particularly whiskey, to produce uncharacteristic violence.”
Mina shivered. “I suppose you could be right.” Her eyes did not leave Pitt’s face. “I cannot help you, Superintendent. Oakley never discussed his professional life with me. He—he thought it would bore me, I suppose. Or that I would not understand.” A shadow of regret or embarrassment crossed her face. “I daresay he was right. It is an area of life about which I know nothing.”
Bart muttered something under his breath.
Victor flashed a sudden smile at Mina.
“You should not mourn that, Aunt Mina. My father talked about it incessantly, and believe me, it was only interesting the first time, and that was so long ago I cannot remember it anymore.”
“Victor!” Thora’s voice was full of surprise and reproach. “Your father was a great man! You should not speak lightly of him in that way. He set a fine example for all of us, in every kind of moral excellence.”
“I’m sure we all know Lieutenant Garrick was a very fine man,” Mina said soothingly, glancing up at Pitt. Then she smiled at Victor. “But I do understand even the finest people can now and again become tedious when one has heard a story before. And familiarity can occasion a certain loss of respect. It is one of the small crosses that families have to bear, my dear.”
Victor’s face tightened, the muscles in his smooth jaw setting hard and his eyes looking far away.
“You are quite right, Aunt Mina. Being boring is a very slight thing, hardly a sin at all, just a misfortune. If I’m going to criticize I should reserve it for the sins that really matter.”
“Better still not to speak about them at all.” Thora nodded, apparently satisfied.
Pitt would have liked to interpose, but there was no way he could ask Victor what sins he had in mind without being so obvious he would receive no useful answer. Anyway, Oakley Winthrop would hardly have been murdered because he was a bore—of whatever proportions. He turned to Mina.
“Perhaps, Mrs. Winthrop, you would give me the names and addresses of any of the naval men Captain Winthrop knew, and whom he might have seen recently; any, perhaps, who live in this part of London.”
Bart Mitchell looked up keenly.
“A good idea. If there were a quarrel, some seaman who imagined a grievance, they may well know of it. There may even have been a court-martial or something of that sort. Someone dismissed, or punished severely, perhaps some event that seemed an injustice …”
“Do you think so?” Mina said quickly, moving around in her seat to look up at him rather than twist her neck. “Yes, that does seem a reasonable answer, doesn’t it?” She looked back. “Mr. Pitt?”
