Bedford Square - Anne Perry [129]
“Please!” He readjusted the chair he was holding for her. “There could be nothing more urgent than seeing you.”
“It looks extremely urgent,” she observed with a dry smile, sitting carefully in the chair. “But perhaps also rather arduous. I shall not keep you for very long.”
“Never mind.” He smiled back at her, his eyes alight for the first time in weeks. He returned to his own seat. “I shall have to make do with what time you can spare. What is it?”
She sighed, her humor vanishing. “Almost certainly nothing. But in going through Leo Cadell’s papers I have discovered one thing which all the blackmail victims had in common and which was a cause of concern to at least one among them … the one who was most viciously accused, by implication.”
“Balantyne?” He looked surprised. “What is it?”
She took the letter and the memorandum on the Jessop Club paper from her reticule and passed them both over to him.
He read them carefully and then looked up. “An orphanage? What about those other two people, Bairstow and Cameron? Are they victims as well?”
“I have no reason to suppose so; in fact, every reason to believe they are not, and could not be,” she replied. “Bairstow is senile, according to Theodosia, and Cameron has left England to live abroad. That leaves of the committee members only those we know.” She watched his face closely. She saw the lift of interest and the slight change in his expression. “Will you do me the favor of investigating it, Thomas, for Theodosia’s sake? I appreciate that it is extremely unlikely to be anything other than what it seems, a worthy cause assisted by a group of gentlemen who happen to belong to the same club. But I am extremely fond of Theodosia, and I, too, find it difficult and painful to believe that Leo was guilty of blackmail and of suicide. I am compelled to explore any possibility that it is not so, however remote.”
She hated asking favors, and she saw the understanding of that in his face.
“Of course,” he agreed. “I shall go out to Kew tomorrow and require to see their books, and send men to check on Bairstow and Cameron. Cornwallis will give me all the excuse I need.”
“Thank you, Thomas. I am most grateful.” She rose to leave. It had been an exhausting two days, and now suddenly the grief overtook her and she found it difficult to muster the strength to face returning to Theodosia and staying awake long into the night to offer her what comfort and companionship she could. She could not lessen Theodosia’s pain, only share it. But she could hardly love her and do less.
The next day was beautiful. The heat wave continued, bright and hot, but there was a clarity to the air and every now and then a breeze. People were out in the streets and parks, and on the river were scores of little boats, pleasure steamers, ferries, barges and every other kind of vessel that could take to the water. The sounds of singing, barrel organs and penny-whistles drifted on the air. Children shouted to one another, and every so often there was a burst of laughter.
Pitt took the boat up the river to Kew. It seemed not only the pleasantest way to travel but also probably the fastest.
As he stood on the deck between a fat woman in a striped blouse and a man with a red face, he wondered if he should really be doing this at all. It was an escape from the paperwork that had piled up while he was occupied with the blackmail case, and he did not want to refuse Vespasia. She had looked unusually tired. Grief had taken none of her spirit or her determination, but there was an acceptance of defeat in her which was the profoundest change he could have imagined. It troubled him enough to justify this trip up the river with the sun and the breeze on his face as the steamer made its way up past Battersea and turned south towards Wandsworth. There was another complete S bend before Kew. He would enjoy it.
He found himself smiling as he watched the rowing boats plying back and forth, narrowly avoiding