death of Angeles Castelbranco,” Pitt said very carefully, measuring every word. “The Portuguese ambassador will become aware of it only in the future, if it should prove relevant. Which is why I considered it prudent, as well as morally right, to inquire now.”
The Home Secretary glared at him. “What the devil do you mean? Explain yourself,” he demanded.
“Another young woman was raped, and survived the assault, although she was injured,” Pitt replied, fixing his gaze on the Home Secretary’s eyes. “The family does not wish to make a complaint, for the girl’s sake. She is only seventeen. It would ruin her socially, prevent her from making a fortunate marriage, and ensure that for the rest of her life this repulsive violation follows her everywhere.”
The Home Secretary stared at him, aghast. “And what has this to do with Forsbrook?” It was clear in his face that he knew what Pitt was going to say. He had tensed, as if anticipating a physical blow.
“She named Neville Forsbrook as her rapist,” Pitt said. “She described the circumstances, the time, and the place. Naturally I had it looked into. She refused to tell me the house in which it happened, but it was very easy to find out. There were not so many balls held in London that night. Her attendance was not secret, nor was that of Forsbrook. The rooms, the paintings, the other details were simple to ascertain.”
The Home Secretary let out his breath slowly.
“I see. And what is it you imagine this will accomplish? Let alone what it has to do with Special Branch?” he asked.
Pitt raised his eyebrows. “I would like to find out if Neville Forsbrook raped Angeles Castelbranco and thus brought about her death. I think that is the concern of Special Branch, but if you think the Foreign Office better equipped to handle the investigation, I shall be delighted to turn over all the facts that I have so far obtained.”
“Don’t be so damned impertinent, sir!” the Home Secretary snapped. Then he leaned back in his chair and stared at Pitt, still standing on the carpet in front of the desk, towering over him. “Be careful! Pelham Forsbrook is a very powerful man indeed. If you malign his son and you cannot prove it, he’ll have your job, and I can’t save you. Not that I shall try.”
Pitt felt the cold seep through him as if he were sinking into icy water. “I shall be very careful, sir,” he said in little more than a whisper. “But the man has to be stopped. The next victim could be your daughter.”
“Granddaughter,” the Home Secretary corrected him bitterly. “Again, be careful!”
“Yes, sir.”
Late in the afternoon Pitt went again to the Portuguese Embassy. He must see Castelbranco and tell him the latest news, as he had promised he would.
When he reached the embassy, Rafael received him immediately in the quiet study. Pitt had considered what he was going to say, and knew perfectly well what it might cost him, but he had no doubt as to what it would cost him if he did not.
“You have news,” Castelbranco said softly. “I can see it in your face. What has happened?” There was anxiety in his voice and his eyes looked Pitt up and down.
His gentle tone stiffened Pitt’s resolve. He had gained a profound regard for the Portuguese ambassador over the last weeks, even a kind of affection. In many people grief shows more vividly their weaknesses; it shakes the fault lines in their character. In Castelbranco, though, it had marked more profoundly his strengths. There was a fortitude in him that was rare.
“It is good of you to come,” the ambassador said quietly. “May I offer you some refreshment? I have whisky, if you wish it, but in view of the pleasantness of the weather, you might prefer something lighter? I have been drinking a concoction my wife enjoys, a mixture of fruit juices.” He stood still, waiting for Pitt’s answer.
“That sounds excellent,” Pitt agreed honestly. “We’ll keep the whisky for the autumn.”
Castelbranco took a glass from the cupboard and filled it from a jug on the sideboard, then they both sat down. Under different circumstances, Pitt reflected sadly, they would have truly enjoyed each other’s company.
On the way to the embassy, he had been trying to reach a decision. Now in this calm room he no longer wavered. It was disobedience to the spirit of the Home Secretary’s orders, but to obey would be a betrayal of this man Pitt had come to think of as almost a friend.
Castelbranco was waiting for Pitt to speak. The silence would stretch comfortably only so long.
“They are almost certainly going to find Alban Hythe guilty in the next few days,” Pitt said at last. “I’m not certain it is the correct verdict, but there is little to refute it. However, the man who was head of Special Branch before me, and for whom I have an immense regard, believes Hythe is innocent.”
Castelbranco’s face creased with an even deeper sense of tragedy.
“More injustice,” he said softly. “The whole matter of violence toward our women stirs a hysteria in us we don’t seem to manage very well. Terror and unreason rage through it all. Can you do anything to help?”
“I doubt it,” Pitt admitted. “But I know Lord Narraway won’t give up. As you will recall the charge is that they were lovers who quarreled, not that he attacked her at random.”
Castelbranco smiled bleakly. “I am aware of your point, Mr. Pitt. I do not imagine that this young man assaulted my daughter. She told her mother it was Neville Forsbrook. I do not doubt her.” There was a question in his eyes. It was not a challenge, but his gaze was direct and unwavering. “I don’t know why this man Quixwood would say that it could not be. Perhaps in his own grief his memory is disturbed. His loss is terrible, and the whole of London knows that his wife betrayed him.”
“It is an awful situation,” Pitt agreed. “But not what I came to discuss. I have made it my business to learn much more about Neville Forsbrook, and that is the reason I came this evening in particular. The Home Secretary has commanded me to cease my investigations in the matter. If I don’t he has threatened to remove me from my command-in fact, I imagine from the Service altogether.”
“Then you cannot continue!” Castelbranco said in alarm, leaning forward in his chair, his eyes wide. “You have done all you can to find justice for my daughter, and been a good friend to me. What ill return I would offer you to ask more!”
“I can at least tell you what I know,” Pitt answered. “I have, in fact, discovered quite a lot about Forsbrook.” He repeated what Stoker had told him regarding the incident with the prostitute and the resulting violence from the pimp, as well as Neville Forsbrook’s prolonged absence from England. He also mentioned the rumors of Pelham Forsbrook’s violent nature, and that his wife, Neville’s mother, had supposedly fled-whether to an imaginary lover or a real one, no one knew-and had been tragically killed in a carriage accident.
“It explains much,” Castelbranco said quietly, staring into his empty glass. “But it does not excuse it. Neville is dangerous. Do you not think he will continue to hurt others?”
“Yes, I do,” Pitt answered. “I would very much like him to be stopped, but so far I have no idea how I can do that.” He fished in his pockets and brought out a folded piece of paper. On it was a name and address. He held it out to Castelbranco. “This is a man I knew on and off when I was in the regular police. It would be necessary to pay him, but he is not greedy and he is extremely discreet. He can make inquiries for you, if you wish.”
Castelbranco took the paper and read it. “Elmo Crask? Is that how you pronounce it?”
“Yes. He is unimpressive to look at. He appears harmless, untidy, as if easily fooled, but he cultivates that intentionally. He is very clever indeed and has a memory like an elephant. But consider before you approach him.” Even as he said it Pitt still wondered if he was doing the right thing. It was what he himself would want, but that did not make it wise. He had not told Charlotte what he intended because he thought she might well disapprove.
Castelbranco was waiting, watching him.
“No matter how careful he is, it is possible that one way or another Pelham Forsbrook will come to hear of it. There may be no proof that you are behind the inquiry, but it would be the obvious conclusion.”
“What can he do that is worse than what his son has done?” Castelbranco asked with a quiver in his voice.
“He can certainly strike where it hurts,” Pitt said miserably. “He can start more rumors about your daughter, ask even crueller questions. Please don’t take it for granted that he wouldn’t. If he believes he is protecting his son’s reputation, he will be as determined as you are, and far less scrupulous.”
“Such behavior would surely prove his son’s guilt,” Castelbranco pointed out. “But I hear what you say, and I shall weigh it before I approach this …” he looked again at the piece of paper, “… Elmo Crask. I know it is not only a matter of the past-there is the future to consider as well, all the other young women Neville could destroy, the
