mattered to her, win or lose.
“Do as you are told!” Cahoon said between his teeth.
She did not move.
Pitt also seemed perfectly composed. “Mr. Dunkeld, did you bring a gift of a case of port wine to the Prince of Wales?”
“What?”
“I think you heard me, sir. Did you?”
Cahoon was incredulous. “Three o’clock in the morning, and you want to know if I brought wine for the Prince of Wales?”
“Yes, I do. Did you?”
“Yes. Best port I could find. It’s the sort of thing gentlemen do.”
His tone was acutely condescending.
“And the Limoges dish, was that a gift also?” Pitt asked.
This time Cahoon was definitely taken by surprise. “What. .
Limoges dish?” His hesitation was palpable.
“The one in your case, sir. Is there more than one?” Pitt’s voice was polite, but the cutting edge was unmistakable.
For an instant Cahoon obviously debated denial.
“A white and gold pedestal dish,” Elsa supplied for him. She was fighting to save Julius, grasping at straws, but all decisions were made and it was too late to go back. “With a garden scene in the middle, a man and woman sitting on a stone seat. Their clothes have a lot of blue in them.”
“You have been searching through my cases!” Cahoon accused her.
“I have no interest in your cases,” she replied, feigning slight surprise. “Your valet was unpacking and did not know what to do with it.
You were with the Prince of Wales, so he asked me. I told him to leave it where it was. If you don’t recall it, I’m sure he does.”
“Sarcasm is most unbecoming in a woman, Elsa,” he said icily. “It makes you seem cold, and mannish.” He turned to Pitt. “I am afraid it is a matter I cannot discuss with you, Inspector. It was a favor for His Royal Highness, to whom I gave my word. I am not sure if you can understand that, but if you cannot, and you wish to challenge him o the matter, then you had better do so, at your own risk. I have nothing to say. I have no idea whether you have duties to perform at this hour, but I am returning to bed, and my wife is doing the same. I assume you will be removing Sorokine before I see you again. I suggest that you do so as discreetly as possible.”
Elsa’s heart tightened and she found it difficult to draw air into her lungs. All her fighting, all the hope, and it was ending like this.
Pitt stared at Cahoon. “If he is taken, it will simply be to a place of safety. There is much yet to learn before the case is over,” he answered.
“You don’t seem to have grasped the obvious.” Cahoon’s voice was exaggeratedly weary. “Sorokine is mad. He suffers some form of insanity that drives him to murder a certain type of woman. He killed one in Africa several years ago. We thought then that it was a single aberration and would never happen again. So far as I knew, it hadn’t.
Then this week he killed the whore. Minnie realized what had happened, and I presume was rash enough to face him and accuse him, so he killed her too. No one else is involved, except possibly my wife in her reluctance to accept the facts. She is not used to the violence and tragedy that can occur in life. She was not with us in Africa, and she tends to be something of an idealist, fonder of dreams than of reality.”
Pitt’s eyes widened. “Are you saying that Mr. Marquand at least was aware that his brother killed this woman in Africa?”
Cahoon was caught slightly off-balance, but he recovered quickly.
“No, but I think he feared it. Watson Forbes was aware. That is why he would not permit his daughter to marry him, even though she wished to. Hamilton Quase was a far better choice. Ask Forbes, if you doubt me. Now I am going to bed. Elsa!”
Elsa looked at Pitt, met his eyes for a moment, then turned and obediently followed Cahoon out into the corridor. She did not know whether she dared to hope, or not.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Pitt went back to his bedroom and lay on the bed, but he did not sleep again. He believed Elsa about the Limoges dish, because Cahoon did not deny it. Certainly she was desperate to save Julius Sorokine because she was in love with him, but even so he did not think she was lying. Were she to do that, she would have done it sooner, and to more effect. She would probably have said that he had been with her at the time of the death of one of the women, or even both.
Would Sorokine have agreed to that, even if it were a lie, in order to save himself? Many men would, regardless of the cost to Elsa’s reputation, and possibly her marriage. Pitt did not think Cahoon Dunkeld would be loath to divorce her for adultery, especially one so publicly acknowledged.
If Dunkeld had brought a Limoges dish identical to the one broken, that was surely too extraordinary to be a coincidence.
Was there something in this whole terrible affair that was premeditated? The murder of Sadie? But none of the women had been here before. And surely they couldn’t predict which ones would come. Killing her in such a way was the impulse of a madman. Even were it in some way thought of in advance, how would anyone know she would be in the Queen’s bedroom, or that that particular dish would be broken? It was not possible. That was why Dunkeld had not taken more care to keep his bringing the dish secret, perhaps unpacked it himself. It was coincidence, something that made sense only afterward. But how?
And the port bottles, at some time filled with blood-there was no proof whether they had come full or been emptied out then refilled, possibly from the kitchen. But if the latter, by whom, and when? How could anyone obtain the blood, and fill the bottles un-seen? There was always kitchen staff around. Nevertheless, it must have been the case: a fine example of opportunism.
Bringing them full of blood spoke of detailed and very careful planning for a very precise need.
Was it even imaginable that in some way the murder was foreseen? By whom? Obviously Cahoon Dunkeld. A man does not plan to be insane at a specific time, in a specific way.
But a man might know that someone else is insane and that certain very particular events will fire a breakdown of his usual control.
If a man is terrified of spiders, or thrown into a rage by being laughed at, then his behavior is foreseeable.
A man who commits grotesque, uncontrollable murders is triggered into such action by a certain series of events happening in order. The pressure becomes cumulative, and he cannot bear it. Did Cahoon Dunkeld understand such a weakness in someone, and deliberately design the events that would make it explode? Could any man be so evil? Of course. There was no evil imaginable that someone would not commit. But would Dunkeld be so reckless, here in the Palace? The dangers were enormous. But then so was the prize-if it were the African railway that was at stake.
The sunlight came through a crack in the curtains and fell in a bright bar across the floor. Pitt stared at it, bewildered. How could a murder help Cahoon in that project? It looked far more likely to ruin it.
Perhaps it was not the railway that was the prize at all, but something else. Maybe it had to do with Julius Sorokine’s love for Elsa. Did Dunkeld care enough to punish Sorokine for. . what? Pitt doubted they had ever acted on their feelings. And Dunkeld did not love her, of that he had no doubt at all.
Perhaps it was to free Minnie, and what happened to Julius or to Elsa was immaterial. That was easier to believe.
Then who had killed Minnie? Surely that was never part o Dunkeld’s plan. Had Julius Sorokine been a far wilder and more dangerous weapon than he had foreseen? What a vile irony!
