one's duty, however painful!' He fixed Pitt with a solemn stare.
Pitt was embarrassed for him. He cleared his throat and tried to think of something harmless to say that did not stick in his mouth with hypocrisy.
'Of course,' he answered. 'Not always easy.'
'Quite.' Lovell coughed. 'Quite so.'
'What is it you wish to say, Mr. Charrington?'
Lovell coughed again and fished in his pocket for a handkerchief.
'You have quite the wrong word. I do not wish to say it, Inspector; I feel an obligation, which is quite different!'
'Indeed.' Pitt breathed out patiently. 'Of course it is. Ex shy;cuse my clumsiness. What is it you feel that we should know?'
'Mrs. Spencer-Brown …' Lovell sniffed and kept the hand shy;kerchief knotted up in his fingers for a moment before folding it and replacing it in his pocket. 'Mrs. Spencer-Brown was not a happy woman, Inspector. Indeed I would go so far as to say, speaking frankly, that she was somewhat neurotic!' He spoke the word as if it were faintly obscene, something to be kept between men.
Pitt was startled, and he had difficulty in preventing its show shy;ing in his face. Everyone else had said the opposite, that Mina was unusually pragmatic, adjusted very precisely to reality.
'Indeed?' He was aware of repeating himself, but he was confused. 'What makes you say that, Mr. Charrihgton?'
'What? Oh-well, for goodness' sake, man.' Now Lovell showed impatience. 'I've had years of observing the woman. Live in the same street, you know. Friend of my wife. Been in her house and had her in mine. Know her husband, poor man. Very unstable woman, given to strong emotional fancies. Lot of women are, of course. I accept that, it's in their nature.'
Pitt had found most women, especially in Society, to have fancies of an astoundingly practical nature, and to be most excellently equipped to distinguish reality from romance. It was men who married a pretty face or a flattering tongue. Women- and Charlotte had showed him a number of examples-far more often chose a pleasant nature and a healthy pocket.
'Romance?' Pitt said, blinking.
'Quite,' Lovell said. 'Quite so. Live in daydreams, not used to the harsh facts of life. Not suited for it. Different from men. Poor Mina Spencer-Brown conceived a romantic attachment for young Tormod Lagarde. He is a decent man, of course, upright! Knew she was a married woman, and years older than he is into the bargain-'
'I thought she was about thirty-five?' Pitt interrupted.
'So she was, I believe.' Lovell's eyes opened wide and sharp. 'Good heavens, man, Lagarde is only twenty- eight. Be looking for a girl of nineteen or twenty when he decides to marry. Far more suitable. Don't want a woman set in her ways- shy;no chance to correct her then. One must guide a woman, you know, mold her character the right way! Anyhow, all that's beside the point. Mrs. Spencer-Brown was already married. Stands to reason she realized she was making a fool of herself, and was afraid her husband would find out-and she couldn't bear it anymore.' He cleared his throat. 'Had to tell you. Damned unpleasant, but can't have you nosing around asking questions and raising suspicions against innocent people. Most unfortunate, the whole affair. Pathetic. Great deal of suffering. Poor woman. Very foolish, but terrible price to pay. Nothing good about it.' He sniffed very slightly and dabbed at his nose.
'There very seldom is,' Pitt said dryly. 'How do you come to know about this affection of Mrs. Spencer- Brown's for Mr. Lagarde, sir?'
'What?'
Pitt repeated the question.
Lo veil's face soured sharply.
'That is a highly indelicate question, Inspector-er-Pitt!'
'I am obliged to ask it, sir.' Pitt controlled himself with difficulty; he wanted to shake this man out of his narrow, idiotic little shell-and yet part of him knew it would be useless and cruel.
'I observed it, of course!' Lovell snapped. 'I have already told you that I have known Mrs. Spencer-Brown for several years. I have seen her over a vast number of social occasions. Do you think I go around with my eyes closed?'
Pitt avoided the question. 'Has anyone else remarked this- affection, Mr. Charrington?' he asked instead. '
'If no one else has spoken of it to you, Inspector, it is out of delicacy, not ignorance. One does not discuss other people's affairs, especially painful ones, with strangers.' A small muscle twitched in his cheek. 'I dislike intensely having to tell you myself, but I recognize it as my duty to save any further distress among those who are still living. I had hoped you would under shy;stand and appreciate that! I am sorry I appear to have been mistaken.' He stood up and hitched the shoulders straight on his jacket by pulling on both lapels. 'I trust, however, that you will still comprehend and fulfill your own responsibility in the matter?''
'I hope so, sir.' Pitt pushed his chair back and stood up also. 'Constable Mclnnes will show you out. Thank you for coming, and being so frank.'
He was still sitting looking at the closed door, the reports of the arson untouched and facedown, when Constable Mclnnes returned twenty minutes later.
'What is it?' Pitt said irritably. Charrington had disconcerted him. What he had said about Mina jarred against everything else he had heard. Certainly Caroline had told him of the affection for Tormod Lagarde, but hand in hand with the conviction that Mina was unusually levelheaded. Now Charrington said she was flighty and romantic.
'Well, what is it?' he demanded again.
'The reports from the doctor, sir.' Mclnnes held out several sheets of paper.
'Doctor?' For a moment Pitt could not think what he meant.
'On Mrs. Spencer-Brown, sir. She died of poisoning. Of belladonna, sir-a right mass of it.'
'You read the report?' Pitt said, stating the obvious.
Mclnnes colored pink. 'I just glanced at it, sir. Interested, like-because. .' He tailed off, unable to think of a good excuse.
Pitt held out his hand for it. 'Thank you.' He looked down and his eye traveled over the copperplate writing quickly. On examination, it had proved that Wilhelmina Spencer-Brown had died of heart failure, owing to a massive dose of belladonna, which, since she had not eaten since a light breakfast, appeared to have been consumed in some ginger-flavored tonic cordial, the only substance in the stomach at the time of death.
Harris had taken the box of medicinal powder supplied to Alston Spencer-Brown by Dr. Mulgrew, and it was still three-quarters full. The total amount absent, including the dosages Spencer-Brown said he had taken, was considerably less than that recovered in the autopsy.
Whatever had killed Mina was not a dose of medicine, taken either accidentally or by her own intention. It came from some other, unknown source.
6
Charlotte spent a miserable day turning over in her mind what she should do about Caroline and Paul Alaric. Three times she decided quite definitely that it was not so very serious and she would do best to take Pitt's advice and leave it alone. Caroline would not thank her for interfering, and.Charlotte might only cause them both embarrassment, and make the whole matter seem more than it really was.
And then four times she remembered Caroline's face, with the high glow in her skin, the tautness of her body, and the little gulp of excitement as she had spoken to Paul Alaric in the street. And she could still picture him perfectly herself, looking elegant and standing very straight, his eyes clear, his voice soft. She had another vivid recollection of his speech, his diction casually perfect, each consonant distinct, as if he had thought of every shy;thing before he spoke and had intended it exactly as it came.
Yes, quite definitely, she must do something, and quickly- shy;unless it was too late even now!
She had already baked a complete batch of bread without any salt, and had hurt Gracie's feelings by telling
