Susannah Chancellor?
Pitt gave no answer. None was necessary.
“I think it would be wise if you were to make yourself available close at hand when I have to break the news to Mr. Chancellor,” Pitt said gently. “Perhaps a decanter of brandy. And you might make sure that there are no callers and no messages until he feels able to deal with them.”
“Yes. Yes, of course. Thank you, sir.” And still looking very shaken and uncertain in his step, Richards rose and left the room.
Linus Chancellor came in a moment or two later, an eagerness in his step and a directness in his eyes that gave Pitt a bitter jolt. He realized Chancellor was expecting news about the African information that was being passed. And with that keenness in his eyes, he also realized, if he had ever doubted it, that Chancellor was innocent of any involvement.
“I’m sorry, sir. I have very grave news,” he said almost before Chancellor had closed the door. He could not bear the misapprehension.
“Is it one of my senior colleagues?” Chancellor asked. “It is good of you to come here to tell me in person. Who is it? Aylmer?”
Pitt felt cold in spite of the warmth of the room and the sun now bright outside.
“No, sir. I am afraid it is about Mrs. Chancellor I have come.” He saw the surprise in Chancellor’s face and did not wait. “I am profoundly sorry, sir, but I have to tell you that she is dead.”
“Dead?” Chancellor repeated the word as though he did not know its meaning. “She was perfectly well last evening. She went out to …” He turned and went to the door. “Richards?”
The butler appeared immediately, the salver with brandy decanter and glass in his hands, his face ashen white.
Chancellor looked back at Pitt, then at the butler again.
“Have you seen Mrs. Chancellor this morning, Richards?”
Richards looked enquiringly at Pitt.
“Mr. Chancellor, there is no doubt,” Pitt said gently. “She was found at the Tower of London.”
“The Tower of London?” Chancellor said incredulously. His eyes were wide with disbelief, and there was a look on his face that seemed close to laughter, as if the sheer idea of it were too absurd to be true.
Pitt had seen hysteria before; it was not altogether unexpected.
“Please sit down, sir,” he asked. “You are bound to feel unwell.”
Richards set the tray down and offered a glass of brandy.
Chancellor took it and drank it all, then coughed severely for several seconds until he managed to regain control of himself.
“What happened?” he asked slowly, fumbling to get his tongue around the words. “What could she possibly have been doing at the Tower of London? She went out to visit Christabel Thorne. I know Christabel is eccentric … but the Tower of London? Where, for heaven’s sake? She can surely not have been inside it at that time of night?”
“Could she and Mrs. Thorne have taken a trip on the river?” Pitt asked, although it seemed a strange thing for two ladies to do alone. Would they find Christabel’s body also, on some further stretch of the riverbank?
“And what … a boating accident?” Chancellor said doubtfully. “Did Mrs. Thorne suggest such a thing?”
“We have not yet enquired of Mrs. Thorne. We did not know Mrs. Chancellor had been with her. But it was not an accident, sir. I am deeply sorry, but I am afraid it was murder. The only comfort I can offer is that it would have been very quick. It is unlikely she suffered.”
Chancellor stared at him, his face white, then red. He seemed about to choke on his own breath.
Richards offered him another glass of brandy and he drank it. The blood left his face and he looked ill.
“And Christabel?” he whispered, staring at Pitt.
“So far we know nothing about her, but we will naturally make enquiries.”
“Where … where was she found … my … wife?” Chancellor seemed to have difficulty saying the words.
“At Traitors Gate. It has a slipway down-”
“I know! I know, Superintendent. I have seen it many times. I know what it is.” He swallowed again, gulping in air. “Thank you for coming to tell me yourself. It must be one of your most unpleasant tasks. I appreciate that you came in person. I imagine you will be in charge of the case? Now if you don’t mind, I would prefer to be alone. Richards, please inform the Colonial Office that I shall not be in this morning.”
Pitt walked from Linus Chancellor’s to the home of Jeremiah Thorne, across the square and along to the far end of Mount Street, and north to Upper Brook Street. It took him less than twenty minutes to reach the front door and ring the bell. His heart was pounding as if he had run twice the distance, his tongue dry in his mouth.
The bell was answered by a footman who enquired as to his business, and when presented with his card, showed him into the library and asked him to wait. He would enquire whether Mrs. Thorne was at home. At this time in the morning it was a ridiculous pretense. He could hardly fail to know if she were at home, but he had been trained to use the polite fiction before allowing any visitor in. If it were inconvenient, or his employer did not wish to see someone, he could hardly return and say so as bluntly.
Pitt waited with a tension so severe he was unable to sit down or even to stand in one spot. He paced back and forth, once catching his knuckles on the edge of a carved table as he turned, oblivious of his surroundings. He was aware of the pain, but only dimly. His ears strained to hear the sound of footsteps. Once when a maid passed he went to the door and was on the point of flinging it open, when he realized he was being absurd. Then he heard giggling and a male voice answering back. It was a simple piece of domestic flirtation.
He was still close to the door when Christabel came in. She was wearing a pale gray morning dress and looked in excellent health, but very questionable temper. Although curiosity was holding it in check, at least until she had ascertained the cause of his call at such a time.
“Good morning, Superintendent,” she said coolly. “You alarmed my footman by your rather vehement insistence upon speaking to me. I hope your reason is adequate to justify it. This is a very uncivil time to call.”
He was too shaken to respond sharply; the tragedy was real. His mind’s eye was still filled with Susannah’s face as she lay in the silence of Traitors Gate, the water of the river lapping over her feet.
“I am extremely relieved to see you well, Mrs. Thorne.”
Something in the gravity of his face frightened her. Quite suddenly her manner altered entirely, the anger evaporated.
“What is it, Mr. Pitt? Has something happened?”
“Yes, ma’am. I am very sorry indeed to have to tell you that Mrs. Chancellor met her death last night. Mr. Chancellor had believed she was with you, so I naturally came immediately to make sure you were not …”
“Susannah?” She looked stricken, staring at him with her enormous eyes, the arrogance fled out of her. “Susannah is dead?” She took a step backwards, then another until she found the chair behind her and sank into it. “How? If … if you feared for me also, then it was … violent?”
“Yes, Mrs. Thorne. I am afraid she was murdered.”
“Oh, dear God!” She put her hands up to her face and sat quite motionless for several moments.
“May I call someone for you?” he offered.
She looked up. “What? Uh-no, no thank you. My poor Susannah. How did it happen? Where was she, for heaven’s sake, that she could be … was she attacked? Robbed?”
“We don’t yet know. She was found in the river, washed up on the shore.”
“Drowned?”
“No, she was strangled, so violently that her neck may well be broken. It was probably very quick. I’m sorry, Mrs. Thorne, but since Mr. Chancellor had believed she was coming to visit you, I have to ask you if you saw her last evening.”
“No. I dined at home, but Susannah did not come here. She must have been attacked before she …” She sighed and a shadow of a smile, small and very sad, touched her lips. “That is, if, of course, she intended to come here. Perhaps she went somewhere else. It would be unwise to suppose it had to be here she had in mind. Although I do not believe it would be an assignation. She was too much in love with Linus for that to be … likely.”
“You don’t say ‘possible,’ Mrs. Thorne?” he said instantly.
She rose to her feet and turned to look out of the window, her back to him. “No. There is not much that is
