matter very much.” Her face darkened. “And Susannah mattered, to me. I liked her profoundly. Friendship matters, almost as much as honor.”
She had spoken with intense seriousness, and he answered her in equal vein.
“And when the two conflict, Mrs. Thorne?”
“Then you have one of life’s tragedies,” she replied without hesitation. “But fortunately I am not placed in that situation. I know nothing about Susannah to her dishonor. Or about Linus either, for that matter. He is a man of deep conviction, and he always openly and honestly proclaimed both his intent and the means by which he would bring it to pass.
“And believe me, Superintendent, he has never entertained the slightest improper intentions towards another woman.” It was a simple and rather obvious statement, one any friend might make in the circumstances, and frequently did. Normally it sounded trite, it was merely an exercise in loyalty, but looking at Christabel’s face with its fierce intelligence and almost disdainful pride, he was unable to dismiss it so lightly. There was no sentimentality in her; it was not an emotional response, but one born of observation and belief.
They were both oblivious of the quiet room or the sunlit garden beyond, even of the wind moving the leaves to cast the occasional shadows on the glass.
“And Mr. Kreisler?” he asked.
“I have no idea. A contentious man,” she said after a moment’s consideration. “I had thought him attracted to Miss Gunne, which would be most understandable. But certainly he pursued Susannah as well, and even with his undoubted arrogance, I doubt he can have deluded himself he could achieve anything of a romantic nature with her.”
Pitt was less certain. No matter how much Susannah might still be in love with her husband, people were capable of all sorts of strange acts where passion, loneliness and physical need were concerned. And Susannah had certainly gone somewhere she preferred not to tell anyone about.
“Then what?” he asked, watching her expression as she sought for an answer.
The veil came down over her thoughts again. Her eyes were bright and direct, but no longer revealing anything unguarded of herself.
“That is your profession to find out, Superintendent. I know nothing that would help you, or I should already have told it to you.”
And Pitt learned nothing further from Thorne himself when he visited him at the Colonial Office. Garston Aylmer was more forthcoming.
“Absolutely frightful,” he said with deep emotion when Pitt said that he was now here in connection with Susannah’s murder. “Quite the most personally shocking thing I have ever heard.” And indeed he looked very shaken. Seeing his pale face, slightly sunken eyes and yet the steadiness of his gaze when he met Pitt’s, it would be difficult to imagine it was assumed, or indeed that it had anything to do with guilt.
“I knew her quite well, naturally,” Aylmer went on, his short thick fingers playing absently with a pencil on the desk in front of him. “One of the most charming of women, and with an unusual integrity.” He looked up gravely, the pencil frozen in mid-motion. “There was an inner honesty in her which was both very beautiful and at times quite disconcerting. I really am profoundly sorry she is gone, Superintendent.”
Pitt believed him entirely, and felt naive even while he did so.
“What do you know of the relationship between her and Mrs. Thorne?” Pitt asked.
Aylmer smiled. “Ah-Christabel. A very rare type of lady … thank goodness! A couple of dozen of her, and London would be revolutionized and reformed to within an inch of its life.” He shrugged his heavy shoulders. “No, Superintendent, that is unfair. Christabel is charming at times, and always interesting. But women with quite such a driving force for good terrify me. It is a little like finding oneself accidentally in the path of a tornado.”
“Tornados are destructive forces,” Pitt pointed out, looking clearly at Aylmer to see if he intended the analogy.
“Only to one’s peace of mind.” Aylmer smiled ruefully. “At least as far as Christabel is concerned. She has a passion for educating women which is most disturbing. It genuinely frightens a great many people. And if you know her at all, you will know she does nothing in half measures.”
“What is it she wishes to reform?”
Aylmer spread his hands in a gesture of abandonment. “Just about everything. Attitudes, beliefs, the entire role of women in the world, which of course means of men as well.” He smiled. “Specifically? Improve radically the role of the odd women …”
“The odd women?” Pitt was totally confused. “What odd women?”
Aylmer’s smile grew broader. “All odd women. My dear fellow, odd women are all women who are not ’even,’ that is to say, married. The women, of whom there are a large and ever-increasing number who have no man to provide for them financially, make them socially respectable and give them something to do, namely to care for him and whatever children there may be.”
“What on earth does she propose to do about it?”
“Why, educate them! Have them join the professions, the arts, the sciences, anything they wish. The odd women, if that is where their abilities or their desires lead them. If Christabel succeeds, next time you call your dentist, your plumber, your banker or your architect, you may find it is a woman. Heaven help us when it is your doctor or your priest!”
Pitt was dumbfounded.
“Precisely,” Aylmer agreed. “Apart from women’s complete unsuitability both emotionally and intellectually- not to mention physically-for such tasks, that will throw thousands of men out of work. I told you, she is a revolutionary.”
“And … people allow it?” Pitt was amazed.
“No of course they don’t. But have you ever tried to stop a truly determined woman? Any woman, never mind Christabel Thorne?”
Pitt thought of trying to stop Vespasia, and knew precisely what Aylmer meant.
“I see,” he said aloud.
“I doubt it.” Aylmer shook his head. “To see the full enormity of it, you would have to know Christabel. Incredible courage, you know. Doesn’t give a damn about the scandal.”
“Was Mrs. Chancellor also involved?” Pitt asked.
“Good gracious, what an appalling thought! I have no idea. I don’t think so. No … Susannah’s interests were all to do with her family, banking, investment, finances and so on. If she had any radical ideas, it was about that sort of thing. But she was far more conventional, thank God.” His brow darkened suddenly. “That is what she quarreled with Kreisler about, so far as I can recall. Curious man. He was here, you know, asking me questions about her. In fact, Superintendent, he was rather more pressing than you are!”
Pitt sat a little farther upright. “About Mrs. Chancellor’s death?”
“Yes. Yes, he seemed most concerned. I couldn’t tell him anything I haven’t told you … which is almost nothing at all. He also wanted to know about both Mr. and Mrs. Thorne.” He laughed a little self-consciously. “And about me. I am not sure if he suspected I might have some involvement, or if he was simply desperate enough to pursue anything at all.”
Pitt was wondering the same thing, both about Aylmer and about Kreisler. This information that he had been to see Aylmer was most disquieting.
He was further disturbed when he saw Ian Hathaway, ostensibly to ask if there had been any progress with the falsified figures, but also to see if he could learn anything more about either Mr. or Mrs. Thorne and their possible connection with Susannah or with Arthur Desmond.
Hathaway looked puzzled. He sat in his quiet, discreet office with its slightly faded good taste and solidity.
“No, Superintendent. That is what is so very curious, and, I admit, beyond me to understand. I would have called you this afternoon had you not come here to see me. We do have information from the German Embassy….”
Pitt drew in his breath involuntarily, his heart beating a little faster, in spite of his effort to remain perfectly composed.
Hathaway saw it and smiled, his small, clear blue eyes steady.
