are other things it could have been. Perhaps Mina was the thief, and she could not face the shame of being discovered.'
'Mina? Oh, surely-' Caroline began, then stopped, suspi shy;cion fighting incredulity in her face.
'Someone is,' Charlotte pointed out soberly. 'And consider shy;ing where the articles were stolen from, it doesn't appear that any one servant could have taken them. But someone like Mina could!'
'But she lost something herself,' Caroline argued. 'A snuffbox.'
'You mean she said she did,' Charlotte corrected. 'And it was her husband's, not hers. Surely the most intelligent way to direct suspicion from oneself would be to take something of your own as well? It does not take a great deal of brains to work that out.'
'I suppose not. And you think this person who is watching knew about it?'
'It is a possibility.'
Caroline shook her head. 'I find it terribly hard to believe.'
'Do you find any of it easy? Yesterday Mina was alive.'
'I know! It's all so ugly and useless and stupid. Sometimes it seems impossible to believe how so much can change irrevo shy;cably in a few hours.'
Charlotte tried another line of thought. 'Do you still have the sensation of being watched?'
Caroline looked startled. 'I've no idea! I haven't even consid shy;ered it. What does a Peeping Tom matter now, compared with Mina's death?'
'It might have something to do with it. I'm just trying to think of everything I can.'
'Well, none of it seems worth anyone dying over.' Caroline stood up. 'I think it is time we took luncheon. I asked for it to be ready at quarter to one, and it is past that now.'
Charlotte followed her obediently and they repaired to the breakfast room where the small table was set and the parlormaid ready to serve.
After the maid had gone, Charlotte began her soup, at the same time trying to recall some of the conversation that had taken place when she had met Mina a week ago. Mina had made a number of remarks about Ottilie Charrington and her death, possibly even implying that there was something mysterious about it. It was an ugly idea, but once it was in Charlotte's mind it had to be explored.
'Mama, Mina had lived here for some time, had she not?'
'Yes, several years.' Caroline was surprised. 'Why?'
'Then she probably knew everyone fairly well. Quite well enough that if she were the thief, and took something important, she might well understand its meaning, don't you think?'
'Such as what?'
'I don't know. Ottilie Charrington's death? She said a lot about it when she was here-almost as if she suspected there could be a secret, something the family would rather were not known.'
Caroline put her soup spoon back in the bowl. 'You mean that it was not natural?'
Charlotte frowned uncertainly. 'Not anything quite so awful as that. But perhaps she was not as respectable as Mr. Charrington, at least, would have liked. Mina said she was very high-spirited, and definitely implied she was also indiscreet. Maybe there would have been some sort of scandal if she had not died when she did?'
Caroline started to eat again, breaking a piece of bread.
'What an unpleasant thought, but I suppose you are right,' she said. 'Mina did drop several hints that there was a lot more to know about Ottilie than most people realized. I never asked her, because I am so fond of Ambrosine I did not wish to encourage talk. But Mina did make me a little curious about Theodora as well, now that I come to remember.'
Charlotte was puzzled. 'Who is Theodora?'
'Theodora von Schenck, Amaryllis Denbigh's sister. She's a widow with two children. I don't know her very well, but I confess to liking her considerably.'
Charlotte found it hard to imagine liking anyone related to Amaryllis. 'Indeed,' she said, unaware how skeptical she sounded. '
Caroline smiled dryly. 'They are not at all alike. For a start, Theodora does not appear to have any desire to marry again, even though she has very little means, as far as anyone knows. And, of course, people do know! In fact, when she came here a few years ago, she had nothing but the house, which she inher shy;ited from her parents. Now she has a new coat with a collar and trim right down to the ground I would swear is sable! I remem shy;ber when she got it that Mina remarked about it. I am ashamed of myself, but I cannot help wondering how she came by it!'
'A lover?' Charlotte suggested the obvious.
'Then she is incredibly discreet!'
'It doesn't seem very discreet to wear a sable collar out of the blue, with no explanation!' Charlotte protested. 'She can hardly be naive enough to imagine it would pass unnoticed! I would wager every woman in Rutland Place could price the garments of every other woman to within a guinea! And probably name the dressmaker who made them and the month in which they were cut!'
'Oh, Charlotte! That's unfair! We are not so-so ill-disposed or so trivial-minded as you seem to think!'
'Not ill-disposed, Mama, but practical, and with an excellent eye to value.'
'I suppose so.' Caroline finished the last of her soup, and the maid reappeared to serve the next dish. The two women began to eat slowly. It was a delicate fish, and extremely well cooked; at any other occasion Charlotte would have enjoyed it.
'Theodora obviously has more money now than she used to,' Caroline went on reluctantly. 'Mina once suggested that she did something quite appalling to earn it, but I was sure at the time that she was only being facetious. She had rather poor taste sometimes.' She looked up. 'Charlotte, do you think perhaps it could have been true and Mina knew something about it?'
'Perhaps.' Charlotte weighed the idea. 'Or perhaps on the other hand Mina was-merely being spiteful-or saying something for the sake of making an effect. The stupidest stories get started that way sometimes.'
'But Mina wasn't like that,' Caroline argued. 'She very seldom talked about other people, except as everybody does. She was much more inclined to listen.'
'Then it begins to look as if it was something to do with Tormod,' Charlotte reasoned. 'Or some other man we don't know of yet. Or perhaps something to do with Alston that we do not know. Or else simply that she was the thief.'
'Suicide?' Caroline pushed her plate away. 'What a dread shy;ful thing it is that another human being, another woman you thought of as much like yourself, only a few houses away, could be so wretched as to take her own life rather than live another day-and you know nothing about it at all. You go about your own trivial little affairs, thinking of menus and seeing that the linen is repaired, and whom to call upon, exactly as if there were nothing else to do.'
Charlotte put her hand across the table to touch Caroline.
'I don't suppose you could have done anything even if you had known,' she said quietly. 'She gave no clue at all that she was so desperately unhappy-and one cannot intrude into everyone's business to inquire. Grief is sometimes more easily borne for being private, and a humiliation is the last thing one wishes to share. The kindest thing one can do is to affect not to have noticed.'
'I suppose you're right. But I still feel guilty. There must have been something I could have done.'
'Well, there isn't anything now, except speak well of her.'
Caroline sighed. 'I sent a letter to Alston, of course, but I feel it is too early to call upon him yet. He is bound to be very shocked. But poor Eloise is unwell also. I thought we might call there this afternoon and express our sympathy. She has taken the whole thing very badly. I think perhaps she is even more delicate than I had realized.'
It was not a prospect Charlotte looked forward to, but she could see it was quite plainly a duty. And if the Lagardes had been the last people, apart from Mina's own servants, to see her alive, then perhaps something could be learned.
Charlotte was stunned when she walked behind Caroline into the Lagarde withdrawing room. Eloise looked so different from the woman she had seen the week before that for a moment she almost expected a new introduction. Eloise's face was almost colorless, and she moved so slowly she might have been fum shy;bling in her sleep. She forced herself to smile, but it was a small gesture. Death was in the Place, and the formality of the usual
