amusement, but made no comment.
Further discussion was prevented by Nigel Uttley himself joining them. He was not quite as tall as Charlotte had thought, seeing him in the distance, but his blue eyes were sharper and there was an inner energy in him which was initially belied by a casual manner and a self-confidence which masked effort.
“Good afternoon, Lady Cumming-Gould,” he said with a slight bow. “My Lord,” he acknowledged Thelonius, addressing him as if he had been in court. “Really—Mrs. Radley …” He waited to be introduced to Charlotte.
“My sister, Mrs. Pitt,” Emily obliged.
“How do you do, Mrs. Pitt.” He inclined his head in something which was not quite a bow. “How nice of you to support the Winthrops at this wretched time. I fear it is going to become even more unpleasant for them as the days go on. I wish I could believe the police were competent to catch the wretch, but the very fact that such a hideous crime could happen in the heart of London indicates the miserable state to which we have fallen. Still we shall improve on it after the by-election.” He looked at Jack with a smile, but the underlying seriousness of his meaning was quite plain.
“Oh, I am so glad,” Charlotte said with a tart edge to her voice and an expression which was intended to be eager. “It would be wonderful if such things were never to happen again. All London would be grateful to you, Mr. Uttley, indeed all England.”
He looked at her with surprise, his fair eyebrows high.
“Thank you, Mrs. Pitt.”
“How are you going to do it?” she went on, almost without drawing breath, and staring at him with intense interest. He looked back at her, momentarily appalled. “Well—er …”
“Yes?” she encouraged. “More policemen? Perhaps a patrol through the parks all night? It would rather interfere with privacy, I’m afraid.” She shrugged. “But then only those doing something which they would prefer not to have seen would have to worry about that.”
“I don’t think patrols through the parks would be the answer, Mrs. Pitt,” he said, relief gushing through his voice at having some concrete proposal to deny. “What we need is better efficiency when a crime has occurred, so that people keep the law in the first place.”
“Yes, perhaps you are right,” she agreed. “Someone of your quality, your skill and intelligence, would be the answer.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Pitt. That is most generous of you, but I already have a career.”
“As a member of Parliament—should you win.”
“Should I win,” he said with a broad smile and a glance at Jack.
“But even before that moment, Mr. Uttley, you could give us the benefit of knowing what you would do. How does someone with skill and perspicacity, and knowledge of human nature and an understanding of society, how does such a person set about catching someone who commits so dreadful a crime?”
For a moment he looked uncomfortable again, then his face smoothed out. Emily glanced at Jack. Neither Vespasia nor Thelonius moved.
“Madmen are notoriously difficult to catch, Mrs. Pitt,” Uttley said in the silence. “We simply need more police diligence, more men who will work hard and have a better knowledge of what is going on, what people in their areas are strange and dangerous.”
“And if it is not a madman?” she said very quietly.
But this time he was prepared.
“Then we need men in charge who are strong and who have influence! We need men who can command the loyalty of those who have power in their own spheres.” His voice was growing in certainty. “I am sure you can understand that, ma’am, without my having to elaborate what should surely remain discreet?”
Charlotte had a sudden cold feeling that she knew very well what he meant. She glanced at Jack and saw his face tighten. Thelonius Quade shifted from one foot to the other, his skin oddly a shade paler.
Nigel Uttley’s smile beamed even more.
Perhaps she should have said nothing now, but she heard her own voice blindly continuing, filled with an assumed innocence.
“You mean you are uncertain of their loyalty now, Mr. Uttley?”
A flash of exasperation crossed his face, and he kept his voice civil with an effort. “No, Mrs. Pitt, of course not. I mean people who have …” He searched for a word and failed. “Other powers—influence which perhaps they had not thought to exercise in quite that way. A sense of civic and social responsibility a little deeper than mere duty.” His face relaxed, pleased with the way he had described what he meant.
The hum of conversation in the room was rising. There was a clink of glass and the discreet murmur of servants offering food and wine.
“I see,” Charlotte said with wide eyes. “A sort of tacit understanding to betray certain information which at present they would not. A change of loyalties?”
“No!” Uttley’s face was pink. “Certainly not! You have quite misunderstood me, Mrs. Pitt.”
“I’m so sorry.” She tried to sound contrite and knew she had failed. “Perhaps you had better explain again. I seem to be slow of understanding.”
“Maybe it is a subject you are not familiar with,” he said between his teeth, his smile so slight as to be almost nonexistent. “It is not one that lends itself to explanation.”
Charlotte lowered her eyes, then glanced at Jack.
Jack grinned, a charming easy expression without malice, but underneath his apparent ease his attention was total.
