Read Online Thomas & Charlotte Pitt 29 - Death On Blackheath by Anne Perry - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Anne Perry
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had no choice but to make it convenient. So after changing his wet jacket and his muddy boots, he took a hansom. Shortly after ten past seven, he entered a pleasant room with portraits of Home Secretaries of the past, some of their faces from every child’s history books, pompous and unsmiling.
Pitt glanced at the newspapers on the table near the fireplace. The headlines caught his eye. ‘Mutilated Corpse in Gravel Pit still Unidentified’. And underneath it: ‘Police Say Nothing!’ Pitt deliberately looked away.
He waited for a further twenty minutes before being greeted by a well-groomed young gentleman who came in and closed the door behind him.
‘So sorry to keep you waiting, Commander Pitt,’ he said with a slight smile, as though well-mannered in spite of his own importance.
Pitt thought of several terse replies, and then how he could not afford to make them.
‘I was late, Mr Rogers,’ he said equally politely. ‘I could not come here covered in mud.’
Rogers’ fair eyebrows rose. ‘Mud?’
‘It is raining outside,’ Pitt said, as if perhaps Rogers had not noticed.
Rogers glanced down at Pitt’s immaculate polished boots, and then up at his face.
‘We found a body in a gravel pit at Shooters Hill before dawn yesterday,’ Pitt explained. ‘I had occasion to go back there.’
‘Yes … yes. About that …’ Rogers cleared his throat. ‘Extremely distasteful, of course. Have you identified her yet?’
‘No. There is a possibility that it is the missing maid from Dudley Kynaston’s house, but the butler was unable to confirm or deny the body is her.’
‘Really?’ The young man’s eyes widened. ‘I find that hard to believe. Is the man lying, do you suppose? I assume he did look? He didn’t … evade it, turn away? Faint?’
‘She has been dead for some time, and is badly mutilated,’ Pitt told him. ‘Apart from her very serious facial injuries, the flesh is beginning to decay. I can go into detail, if you wish, but I imagine you would prefer that I didn’t. Her eyes are missing, but her hair is unusual.’
‘Yes, I see,’ the man said hastily. ‘That makes it difficult … I appreciate the …’ He stopped. ‘However, the important thing is that you cannot say for certain that it is Kynaston’s maid, correct?’
‘Correct,’ Pitt agreed.
The young man relaxed the stiff line of his shoulders. His voice, when he spoke, was suddenly softer. ‘Excellent. Then it will not be difficult for you to leave the matter to the local police. She is probably some prostitute who was unfortunate in her choice of customer. Sad and extremely ugly, but not a Special Branch matter, and certainly nothing to do with Kynaston. The Home Secretary asked me to convey to you his appreciation of your discretion in stepping in so quickly, just in case the local police were clumsy and caused any degree of embarrassment to the Kynaston family, and therefore to the Government. We have enemies who would seek to profit from even the slightest appearance of an … unfortunate association.’ He inclined his head slightly. It was dismissal.
Pitt wanted to argue, to point out that the issue was not finished yet, and it was too soon to assume it settled. But he had been dealing with crimes and investigation all his adult life. He understood both gossip and authority. He had learned how to use them, not always successfully. Reason agreed with the young man, instinct spoke against him. It had not been phrased so, but he knew this was an order. It was part of his new position that he should not require anything blunter.
‘Of course,’ he said quietly. ‘Good evening.’
The young man smiled. ‘Good evening, sir.’
Pitt was later home than he had wished to be, and he found that the rest of the family had already eaten dinner. Charlotte, however, had waited for him. She offered him the choice of the kitchen or the dining-room table, and he chose the kitchen. It was warmer, both literally and in the
Pitt glanced at the newspapers on the table near the fireplace. The headlines caught his eye. ‘Mutilated Corpse in Gravel Pit still Unidentified’. And underneath it: ‘Police Say Nothing!’ Pitt deliberately looked away.
He waited for a further twenty minutes before being greeted by a well-groomed young gentleman who came in and closed the door behind him.
‘So sorry to keep you waiting, Commander Pitt,’ he said with a slight smile, as though well-mannered in spite of his own importance.
Pitt thought of several terse replies, and then how he could not afford to make them.
‘I was late, Mr Rogers,’ he said equally politely. ‘I could not come here covered in mud.’
Rogers’ fair eyebrows rose. ‘Mud?’
‘It is raining outside,’ Pitt said, as if perhaps Rogers had not noticed.
Rogers glanced down at Pitt’s immaculate polished boots, and then up at his face.
‘We found a body in a gravel pit at Shooters Hill before dawn yesterday,’ Pitt explained. ‘I had occasion to go back there.’
‘Yes … yes. About that …’ Rogers cleared his throat. ‘Extremely distasteful, of course. Have you identified her yet?’
‘No. There is a possibility that it is the missing maid from Dudley Kynaston’s house, but the butler was unable to confirm or deny the body is her.’
‘Really?’ The young man’s eyes widened. ‘I find that hard to believe. Is the man lying, do you suppose? I assume he did look? He didn’t … evade it, turn away? Faint?’
‘She has been dead for some time, and is badly mutilated,’ Pitt told him. ‘Apart from her very serious facial injuries, the flesh is beginning to decay. I can go into detail, if you wish, but I imagine you would prefer that I didn’t. Her eyes are missing, but her hair is unusual.’
‘Yes, I see,’ the man said hastily. ‘That makes it difficult … I appreciate the …’ He stopped. ‘However, the important thing is that you cannot say for certain that it is Kynaston’s maid, correct?’
‘Correct,’ Pitt agreed.
The young man relaxed the stiff line of his shoulders. His voice, when he spoke, was suddenly softer. ‘Excellent. Then it will not be difficult for you to leave the matter to the local police. She is probably some prostitute who was unfortunate in her choice of customer. Sad and extremely ugly, but not a Special Branch matter, and certainly nothing to do with Kynaston. The Home Secretary asked me to convey to you his appreciation of your discretion in stepping in so quickly, just in case the local police were clumsy and caused any degree of embarrassment to the Kynaston family, and therefore to the Government. We have enemies who would seek to profit from even the slightest appearance of an … unfortunate association.’ He inclined his head slightly. It was dismissal.
Pitt wanted to argue, to point out that the issue was not finished yet, and it was too soon to assume it settled. But he had been dealing with crimes and investigation all his adult life. He understood both gossip and authority. He had learned how to use them, not always successfully. Reason agreed with the young man, instinct spoke against him. It had not been phrased so, but he knew this was an order. It was part of his new position that he should not require anything blunter.
‘Of course,’ he said quietly. ‘Good evening.’
The young man smiled. ‘Good evening, sir.’
Pitt was later home than he had wished to be, and he found that the rest of the family had already eaten dinner. Charlotte, however, had waited for him. She offered him the choice of the kitchen or the dining-room table, and he chose the kitchen. It was warmer, both literally and in the
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