asleep?”
“Yes, and I am most loath to wake her, unless it is something of real urgency,” Charlotte said firmly, meaning it for the vicar, although she was still looking at Martha.
The vicar grunted. “I had hoped to be of some spiritual assistance to the poor woman, but if you say she is asleep, I suppose I shall have to call another time.”
“Quite,” Charlotte agreed. She did not wish to offer them refreshment, but Martha’s haggard face inspired her pity. “May I offer you a dish of tea? It would be no trouble.”
Martha opened her mouth as if to accept, then doubt mixed with anxiety crossed her face. Again she hesitated but at last she stood up and definitely declined.
After they had gone Charlotte went to the kitchen to see that a light meal was being prepared for supper, and that the following day’s catering was in hand. She was called from those duties by the parlour maid to announce that the police had arrived. She had been expecting their call, had it in her mind from the beginning, and yet now she was taken by surprise.
It was Pitt, of course. She found herself oddly embarrassed that he should find her here, self-conscious of her wish to help.
“Good evening, Miss Ellison,” he said without showing more than a lifted eyebrow of surprise. “Is Mrs. Lessing well enough to speak to me? I am aware that Mr. Lessing is still at the church.”
“I imagine that she will have to speak to you,” Charlotte said quietly. She meant the softness of her tone to rob it of rudeness. “Perhaps it would be easier to have it done as soon as may be. There is no purpose in avoiding it. If you care to wait, I shall go and awaken her. If I take a little while, please excuse me.”
“Of course.” He hesitated. “Charlotte?”
She turned.
He was frowning. “If she is ill, distressed, there is nothing I need to ask that cannot wait until tomorrow. It’s just that I doubt it will be any easier then. It might even give her a better night to have it past.”
She found herself smiling. “I think it would. May I stay, if she wishes?”
“I would prefer that you did.”
It took her several minutes to rouse Mrs. Lessing and assure her that her appearance was acceptable and would not disgrace her in front of such a lesser creature as a policeman, and, then, that he was courteous, that she had nothing to fear since she had no guilt, and would rest more easily from having the ordeal accomplished. She did not have the heart to tell her it would very likely be merely the first of many calls. One grief, one fear was enough for today.
Pitt was very gentle with her, but the questions were unavoidable: Who were Verity’s friends? With whom had she only recently become acquainted? Who were her male admirers? Had she expressed any fears? How well had she known Chloe Abernathy? Had she visited the Hiltons or the Ellisons so that she might have any knowledge of their servants, or they of her? Had they any information or observations in common?
Mrs. Lessing knew nothing that was of help. She answered with the bewildered meaninglessness of someone still suffering from shock. It was as if she did not understand the purpose of his questions.
Finally he gave up and rose to leave. He watched Mrs. Lessing as she walked slowly into the hallway and closed the door behind her.
“Are you remaining, Charlotte?”
It did not even cross her mind to condemn his impertinence then for the use of her given name.
“Yes. There is a great deal to be done, and Mr. Lessing still has to continue his duties. He is not a very practical man, not used to running an orderly house.”
“It might be as well to let her do certain things herself. Work cannot heal, but it can alleviate. Idleness gives one time to think.”
“Yes, I. . I will. I will find household jobs for her to do that do not require thought. But I shall do the planning myself, the preparations for the funeral, telling people, and so on.”
He smiled. “I see a great deal of tragedy in my job, and of ugliness; but I see a great deal of kindness as well. Good evening.” He turned at the door. “Oh, don’t forget, do not go out alone under any circumstances. Even if you should require a doctor, send someone, send Mr. Lessing, or call for assistance next door. They will understand.”
“Mr. Pitt!”
“Yes?”
“Do you know anything further yet? I mean, what manner of man, from what-what walk of life?” She was thinking of George and Emily.
“Do you know something you have not told me?” He was looking at her again in that way that seemed to probe inside her, as if he knew her well, as an equal, not as a policeman.
“No! Of course not! If I knew anything I should tell you!”
“Would you?” There was gentle disbelief in his voice. “Even if it were no more than a suspicion? Would you not be afraid of wronging someone, perhaps someone you loved?”
It was on the edge of her tongue to say quite angrily that she did not love anyone who could possibly be connected with such crimes; then something in him compelled her to be honest-an intelligence, or an honesty in him.
“Yes, of course I should be afraid of wronging someone, if it were merely a matter of suspicion. But I imagine you do not leap to conclusions just because of something someone tells you?” It was a question, because she wanted reassuring.
“No, or we would catch ourselves ten criminals for every crime.” He smiled, showing those strong teeth again. “What is it you do not want me to act upon?”
“You are leaping to conclusions!” she said hotly. “I did not say I knew anything!”
“You did not say so directly, but your evasion makes me believe it.”
She turned away from him, making up her mind not to speak of it. “You are mistaken. I wish I knew something that could genuinely help, but I do not. I’m sorry if anything I said gave a wrong impression.”
“Charlotte!”
“You are becoming overly familiar, Inspector Pitt,” she said quietly.
He came up behind her. She was acutely aware of him. Emily’s words about his admiration flashed across her mind and she found her skin burning with embarrassment and a sudden appalling knowledge that it was true. She stood rooted to the spot.
“Charlotte,” he said gently. “This man has killed four women already. There is no reason to suppose he will stop. In all likelihood he cannot help himself. It is better some innocent person should be suspected unjustly for a while-he will be one of many-than that another woman should die. How old was Lily? Nineteen? Verity Lessing was only twenty. Chloe Abernathy was little more. Or the Hiltons’ maid? I can’t even remember her name! If you doubt the monstrosity of it, go upstairs and look at Mrs. Lessing again-”
“I know!” Charlotte said furiously. “You don’t have to remind me! I’ve been here since last night!”
“Then tell me whatever it is you have thought of, or seen, or heard-whatever it is! If it is wrong I shall find out; no one will be pursued unjustly. He will be caught one day, but better now, before he kills again.”
She turned round without thinking, to stare at him. “Do you think he will kill again?”
“Don’t you?”
She closed her eyes, to avoid looking at his face. “What has happened here? This used to be a quiet, a good place to live. There was nothing worse than a few broken romances, a little gossip. Now suddenly people are dead; we are all looking at each other and wondering! I am! I’m looking at men I’ve trusted for years, and wondering if it could be them, thinking thoughts about them that make me blush with shame. And I can see in their faces that they know I am suspicious! That’s almost the worst part of it! They know I wonder, that I’m not sure. How must they feel? How must it feel to look at your wife or your daughter and see in their faces, in spite of their words, that they are not absolutely sure that it is not you? That it has actually crossed their minds that it could be! Could you ever feel the same again? Could love live through that? Is not love at least partly trust, faith in someone, and knowing them well enough that you don’t even have such thoughts?”
She kept her eyes shut. “I realize I hardly even know people I thought I loved. And I see it in others, too. All the people who have come here. I listen to what they say, because I have to. And they are beginning to look around, to try to find someone to blame where it will upset them least. The gossip and the suspicions are
