“I don’t know. Perhaps not.” He looked at her with raised eyebrows. “Have you got a better idea?”
She felt a kind of desperation welling up inside her. She tried to steady her mind. Whatever the outcome was, there must be reason in it, emotional reason. Nobody was mad, acting from unconnected, irrational motives, it was simply that there was something important that they did not know.
“She must have had a reason,” she said, not directly in answer. “I don’t think it’s anything to do with Ireland. It must be personal. Perhaps we were wrong in assuming they don’t know each other?”
“They neither of them showed the slightest sign of recognition when she came in that first time,” he pointed out, sitting on the edge of the bath.
“Which only means that they did not want anyone else to know they knew each other,” she said reasonably. “Which in turn means it was not a relationship they could acknowledge.”
He frowned. “But the types of women he was used to were servants and the looser-moraled wives of acquaintances. Justine doesn’t appear to be either of those.”
“Well, if she did know him in that way,” she said with a shudder, “it would provide an excellent reason for her wanting him dead before he could perhaps tell Piers and ruin her prospects of marriage. Added to which, I think she really loves Piers, and I am certain he loves her.”
Pitt sighed. “I have little doubt that Greville would have told him when he had the opportunity. He wouldn’t want his only son marrying a woman who used to be his own mistress, if that word could be used of the way he regarded women.”
“Well, not for Doll Evans, poor creature,” she said bitterly. “And from what you said, possibly not for some of the others he discarded.”
He bent forward and started to unfasten his boots.
“What are you doing?” she asked him.
“Going to reenact what happened,” he replied. “I don’t want to scratch the bath. I’ll take Greville’s part, you take Justine’s.” He took off his boot and began to undo the other.
“I’ll start from the door,” she said. “I’m not going outside. You can pretend I have towels.”
He looked up at her with a bleak smile and took off his other boot. He stood up and climbed into the bath. He lay down gingerly, trying to arrange himself as he remembered Greville.
She watched from the door.
“All right,” he said after a moment. “Come in as if you had a pile of towels.”
She held up her arms and walked forward. He was looking straight at her.
“This doesn’t work,” he answered. “You had better get towels and come in here properly, holding them in front of you. The screen wasn’t up; the room was just like this. He was lying with his head a little to one side, I think.”
“Shouldn’t I get Tellman?” she suggested. “To make sure it was just the same? Maybe he could take Greville’s part and you could watch?”
“He isn’t tall enough,” he agreed. “But yes, fetch him, by all means. And get the towels. If we are right about them knowing each other, he would have said something, surely, if she had come into the bathroom? Didn’t he suspect what she might do?”
“I doubt it,” she said with a slight smile. “He was an arrogant man. He’d used and thrown aside a lot of women. Maybe he thought she was going to plead for his mercy or his discretion.”
“Then she was a bigger fool than I take her for,” Pitt said grimly.
She went out, leaving him lying in the bath looking glum, and went to find Tellman. It did not take her long, and she returned less than ten minutes later with him and also a pile of half a dozen towels.
“Don’t see what it’ll accomplish,” Tellman observed with a shrug and a wary look at Pitt, who did look somewhat odd. Charlotte had told him about Justine and the blue slippers. He had been surprised, and she thought disconcerted also, but she was guessing from the expression in his face. He had not said anything.
Pitt did not reply, but slid back down to the position he thought Greville had occupied and looked at Charlotte to begin again.
She held the towels on one arm and closed the door behind her, as if she had just entered.
“You’re not lying right,” Tellman criticized Pitt. “He had his head a bit more to that side.”
“It wouldn’t make any difference,” Charlotte pointed out. “He could still see me unless I held the towels up in front of my face.” She did it in demonstration. “And I wouldn’t have to look towards him.”
“You would as you passed him to go behind.” Tellman was thoroughly argumentative. He looked back at Pitt. “And you still aren’t in the right position. You are too straight.”
Pitt obligingly slid further sideways.
Tellman regarded him. “Now you’ve changed your shoulders as well. He had his head more to one side—”
“Does it matter?” Charlotte interrupted. “It wouldn’t affect what he could see.”
“Maybe he was asleep?” Tellman said without conviction. “That would account for why he didn’t react or call out.”
“She couldn’t rely on that,” Pitt pointed out. “And Justine wouldn’t leave anything to that kind of chance.”
“It was a crime of opportunity.” Tellman was still disposed to argue.
“No it wasn’t,” Charlotte contradicted him. “She was dressed as a maid. That meant she thought about it and planned it. She must have brought the lace cap up from the laundry room, even if she took a dress from somewhere
