to you?’ His cheeks were red, his nose pinched at the nostrils and his jaw tight. He glared at Pitt as if his fury were slipping out of his control.
‘I was checking some of the evidence before I reported it to you,’ Pitt replied. Damn! That sounded so feeble, so obviously an excuse, and yet it was the truth. ‘I wished to-’ he began again.
‘You wished to evade the issue!’ Talbot said furiously. ‘What about this bloody hat you found in the gravel pit?’
‘It’s not bloody,’ Pitt corrected him.
‘God damn it, man! Don’t you dare tell me when to swear and when not to! Who the hell do you think you are, you jumped-up-’
‘There is no blood on the hat … sir,’ Pitt said between his teeth.
Talbot stared at him. ‘What the hell are you talking about?’
‘There was no blood on the hat,’ Pitt repeated.
‘That is totally irrelevant. Was it the maid’s hat or not?’ Talbot said slowly between his teeth, as if Pitt were simple.
‘I don’t know,’ Pitt replied. ‘But that is also irrelevant to Kynaston, unless we can prove that he had some illicit relationship with her, or that she knew of something else he was doing about which she threatened him.’
‘And you have done! The man is having an affair! But you did not think it necessary to report that fact to me, as I commanded you to?’ Talbot said grimly. ‘I wonder if you would care to explain that? I rather think we are back to the beginning again.’ His voice grated, full of ragged edges. ‘Are you so arrogant that you think you can take decisions on this matter without reference to your superiors, or have you some reason of your own for protecting Kynaston from the truth? Just how well do you know him? You force me to ask.’
Pitt felt the heat rise up his face. Any answer he could give was going to sound like an excuse. And yet if he had come to Talbot earlier, before he was certain of Kynaston’s affair, he would have been equally to blame for maligning an important man in the Government’s plans for naval defence, not to mention the moral and civil wrong of false accusation. It would have brought Special Branch into disrepute and made its future work harder. It might even have earned Pitt’s own removal from leadership.
A sudden horrible thought flashed into his mind that this was the purpose of Talbot’s rage. This was an excellent platform on which to build the means of getting rid of Pitt altogether. He drew in his breath to frame some kind of a reply just as the door opened and Somerset Carlisle came in, closing it quietly behind him. He was older than when they had first met, but the remarkable arched brows and the quirky humour were still there in his face. It was only the deepening of the lines that changed him, made one aware that it was over a decade later.
‘Ah! Pitt,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Delighted to find you here.’
‘You are interrupting a private conversation-’ Talbot snarled at him.
‘Yes, of course I am,’ Carlisle cut across the rest of his remark. ‘Just wanted to tell Pitt that I found the piece of information he was looking for.’ He smiled at Pitt, gazing straight into his eyes. ‘You were quite right, of course. The hat was no more Kitty Ryder’s than it was mine! Some damn fool was wanting to distract attention from his own rather stupid mistakes … drinks locally now and then, so he knew about the poor woman’s disappearance, and the body you found in the gravel pit, of course.’
Talbot tried to interrupt but Carlisle carried on without taking the slightest notice of him.
‘Knew she’d had a hat like that, poor girl, and bought one the same. Put a red feather in it.’ He smiled even more widely and reached his hand into his pocket. He pulled out a rather crumpled piece of paper. ‘Got the receipt. You’ll see it’s dated for the day before your informant found it.’
‘Just all by pure coincidence?’ Talbot said sarcastically.
‘Hardly,’ Carlisle replied with exaggerated patience. ‘He was the one who found it!’
Talbot was standing motionless, his face filled with bafflement and even further mounting anger.
Carlisle was still smiling, as if the atmosphere in the room were one of co-operation, not open enmity.
‘Policeman’s job to be sceptical,’ he went on, now looking at Pitt. ‘Good thing you were. Made a highly embarrassing mistake if you’d reported to Downing Street that the body was Kitty’s on evidence discovered by the man who put it there. Looked a bit of a fool. Not good for the reputation of Special Branch.’ He shook his head. ‘No doubt some journalist would have got hold of it and put it all over the front pages. Somehow or other they find these things.’ He shrugged. ‘And then, of course, they put all kinds of other bits of fact — and imagined fact — together and come up with accusations. Too late to apologise when you’ve ruined a man.’
Pitt had recovered from his amazement, although he had no idea how Carlisle had known he was here, or become involved in the matter at all.
‘Exactly,’ he agreed aloud.
Talbot was still fighting the issue, his body stiff, his face pale.
‘What unbelievable good fortune that you happened to be aware of all this … eccentric behaviour, Mr Carlisle,’ he said sarcastically. ‘I suppose we should be grateful some extraordinary chance took you to … what?’ His voice became even more grating. ‘How was it you learned that this particularly irresponsible man knew of Ryder’s passion for a hat with a red feather, and also exactly where her body was found, and that he should purchase such a hat, plus feather, of course, and place it there? Such a piece of good fortune seems … beyond belief.’ He pronounced the words slowly, giving every syllable emphasis.
Carlisle merely smiled a little more widely.
Pitt’s heart was racing, but he dared not intervene. He had no explanation either.
‘And of course that you should also, purely by chance, of course, know exactly where Commander Pitt was,’ Talbot went on. ‘And race here just in time to rescue him from having to give me some explanation as to why I had to hear of the whole apparent farce from someone else, and demand he explain to me why he had not reported to me, as I had instructed him. I suppose you have answers for all that also?’
Carlisle spread his hands in an elegant gesture, rather like another shrug of his shoulders.
‘The man who bought the hat is a constituent of mine,’ he said calmly. ‘He’s been in trouble a few times for trying to draw attention to himself.’
‘Kitty Ryder’s desire for a hat with a red feather was not in the newspapers,’ Talbot said icily. ‘And your constituency is miles from Shooters Hill.’
Carlisle laughed. ‘For heaven’s sake, man! People move around. He’s a hound for scandal. He went and drank at the Pig and Whistle. He asked questions, listened to gossip. And as to finding Pitt here, when I put the pieces together I called his office and was told he’s been sent for to come here. Not exactly the work of a genius.’ His eyes were bright, his arched eyebrows even higher. ‘Anyway, I’m delighted if I’ve saved you embarrassment — not to mention poor Kynaston.’ He turned to Pitt. ‘If your business here is finished, I’ll walk to Whitehall with you.’
‘Yes … thank you,’ Pitt agreed quickly, then turned to Talbot. ‘I shall keep you informed of anything I learn that is relevant to Mr Kynaston, especially should we find out the identity of the woman in the gravel pit. Good morning, sir.’ And without waiting for Talbot to answer or give him leave to go, he turned and followed Carlisle out of the door, through the hallway and into the street.
They walked several paces along the quiet pavement, past the usual police presence, since Downing Street was the home not only of the Prime Minister, but also of the Chancellor of the Exchequer.
‘Was any of that true?’ Pitt asked quietly as they turned into Whitehall.
Carlisle’s expression barely changed. ‘Close enough,’ he replied.
‘Close enough for what?’ Pitt demanded, still uneasy.
‘To pass muster, should Talbot choose to have it investigated,’ Carlisle replied. ‘Don’t ask anything further, because you don’t want to know, and I certainly don’t want to tell you.’
‘Does the hat have anything to do with Kitty Ryder?’
‘Nothing at all, except that she did want one. Or, at least, she did want a red feather of some sort. It is entirely true that that was not her hat.’
Pitt let his breath out slowly. ‘I’m extremely grateful.’
‘You should be,’ Carlisle agreed pleasantly. ‘Don’t cross Talbot; he’s a nasty bastard. Doesn’t mean Kynaston’s innocent, of course. Just can’t hang a man on a manufactured piece of evidence. And … and I wouldn’t like to see you replaced by someone a lot worse. Good luck! Watch your back!’ And with that he turned and walked
