would Papa think?'
'Exactly,' Charlotte said. 'And now Mina Spencer-Brown is dead-probably murdered-almost next door to Mama. But she still doesn't mean to stop seeing him. I've tried to dissuade her, and it has been exactly as if she had not heard me.'
'Haven't you pointed out to her-' Emily began incredulously.
'Of course I have!' Charlotte cut her off before she could finish. 'But did you ever take any notice of advice when you were in love?'
Emily's face fell. 'Don't be ridiculous! What on earth do you mean, 'in love'? Mama is fifty-two! And she is married-'
'That's just years,' Charlotte said sharply, waving away the unimportance of time with her soup spoon. 'I don't suppose one feels any different. And to imagine that being married prevents you from falling in love is too naive for words. If you are going to grasp at Society with both hands, Emily, at least practice some of its realism as well as its sophistry and silly manners!'
Emily shut her eyes and pushed her soup dish away.
'Charlotte, it's awful!' she said in a tight, pained voice. 'It would be total disaster. Have you any idea what happens to a woman who is known to be-without morals? Oh, it might be all right if it were with some earl or duke or something, and one was important enough oneself-but for someone like Mama- never! Papa could even divorce her! Oh, dear heaven! It would be the end for all of us. I should never be received anywhere again!'
'Is that all you care about?' Charlotte said furiously. 'Being invited out? Can't you think about Mama? And how do you imagine Papa would feel? Not to mention whatever it is that has happened to Mina Spencer-Brown!'
Emily's face was white, anger lost in a sudden sense of shame for her own thoughts.
'You can't possibly think Mama had anything to do with murder,' she said, lowering her voice considerably. 'That's inconceivable.'
'Of course I don't,' Charlotte said. 'But it's perfectly conceivable, even probable, that the murder had something to do with the thefts. And that isn't all. Mama said she has had the feeling for some time that someone has been watching her, spying on her. That could have something to do with the murder as well.'
Two spots of color appeared in Emily's cheeks.
'Why didn't you tell me about this before?' Her indignation was back again, embarrassment forgotten. 'You should have sent for me straightaway. I don't care how clever you think you are, you should not have tried it on your own. Look what a mess you have let it grow into! You have an overblown opinion of yourself, Charlotte. Just because you have stumbled on the truth in one or two of Thomas' cases, you think you are so clever nobody can deceive you. And look what you have allowed to happen now!'
'I didn't know it was murder until the day before I wrote to you.' Charlotte kept her temper with difficulty. She knew Emily was frightened, and she was also aware at the back of her mind that perhaps she had been a little overconfident of her own abilities. It might really have been better if she had called Emily sooner, at least about Caroline and Paul Alaric.
Emily reached for her soup dish again.
'This is cold. I don't know why you can't have a craving for something reasonable, like pickles. When I was carrying, I wanted strawberry jam. I had it with everything. Will you add some more hot from the pan to this, please?'
Charlotte stood up and ladled out some for both of them. She put Emily's in front of her, then sat down to her own.
'What shall we do?' she asked quietly.
Emily looked back at her, all the anger evaporated. She was aware of her own selfishness, but it was unnecessary for either of them that she should say so.
'Well, we had better go immediately, this afternoon, and persuade Mama of the danger she is in, and stop her from seeing Monsieur Alaric again-except in the most casual way, as it is unavoidable, of course. We do not want to be obvious. It would occasion talk. Then in case it has anything to do with the thefts, and somebody has this wretched locket, we had better see if we can find out who killed the woman-Spencer-Brown. I have enough money. I can buy the locket back if it is blackmail.'
Charlotte was surprised. 'Would you do that?'
Emily's blue eyes widened. 'Of course I would!.We should buy back the locket first, then call in the police. It wouldn't matter what they said afterwards-without the locket, nobody would believe them. They would only damn themselves the further for malice. We would destroy the picture, and Mama would deny it. Monsieur Alaric would hardly contradict! Even if he is foreign, he is most certainly a gentleman.' A shadow passed over Emily's face. 'Unless, of course, it was he who killed Mrs. Spencer-Brown.'
That Paul Alaric could be the murderer was an idea peculiarly repugnant to Charlotte. She had never really thought of him in that light, even in Paragon Walk, and it was sharp and ugly to do so now.
'Oh, I don't think it could be he!' she said involuntarily.
Emily's stare was very straight. 'Why not?'
Then perception flashed across her face. She knew her sister too well for comfort; indeed she had always had a disconcert shy;ingly acute judgment of most people, both about what they wanted and, even more uncomfortably, why they wanted it. It was a facility, coupled with a sharp realism in her desires and the restraint to keep a still tongue in her head, that had led to her considerable success in Society. Charlotte had far more imagination, but it lacked a bridle. She failed to take account of social conventions, and therefore many of the motives of others eluded her. It was only when the darker, more elemental and tragic passions were involved that she understood instinctively, and often with a sharp and painful wave of pity.
'Why not?' Emily repeated, finishing her soup. 'Do you think that because he is handsome he is therefore decent? Don't be such a child! You ought to know better than to imagine that simply because someone is attractive he is not capable of the most facile and disgusting things as well. Handsome people are often extremely selfish. To be able to charm others is very dangerous to the character. It comes as a shock, sometimes an unacceptable one, to find there is something you want and you may not have it. He would not be the first simply to take it! If he has been brought up to believe he has only to smile and people will do as he wishes- For heaven's sake, Charlotte, remember Selena! She was totally spoiled by having been told she was a beauty!'
'You don't need to belabor the point,' Charlotte interrupted her angrily. 'I understand you perfectly. I have met spoiled people too! And I have not forgotten how everyone twittered over Monsieur Alaric. He had only to show up and half the women in the Walk made fools of themselves!'
Emily gave her a dry look, her own memories less than entirely comfortable.
'Then you had better put on your best dress, and we shall go and call on Mama right away,' she said briskly. 'Before she goes out, or receives anyone else. We can hardly say what we have to unless we are alone.'
Caroline received them with surprise and delight.
'My dears, how marvelous! Do come in and sit down. How wonderful to see you both!' She was dressed in the softest lavender-pink dress, high to the throat, with a fichu of lace falling gently. At any other time Charlotte would have envied her it; a gown like that would have suited her wonderfully and, far more important than the mere look of it, would have made her feel beautiful. Now all she could think of was how flushed Caroline was, how gaiety and even excitement bubbled just beneath the surface.
She glanced across at Emily and saw the chill of shock in her eyes.
'Emily, do sit over here where I can see you,' Caroline said cheerfully. 'You haven't been here for ages-at least it seems like ages. It is far too early for tea, and I suppose you have had luncheon already?'
'Onion soup,' Emily said with a little wrinkle of her nose.
Caroline's face fell. 'Oh, my dear! Whatever for?'
Emily reached for her bag, opened it, and took out her perfume. She touched herself liberally with it and then offered it to Charlotte.
'Mama, Charlotte tells me you have had some tragic happen shy;ings here lately,' she began, ignoring the question of the soup. 'I'm so sorry. I wish you had written me. I would like to have been here to offer some comfort to you.'
Considering how radiant Caroline looked, the remark seemed somewhat misplaced. Charlotte had never seen anyone less distressed.
Caroline recollected herself rapidly. 'Oh yes, Mina Spencer- Brown. Very sad indeed-in fact, quite tragic. I
