Bedford Square - Anne Perry [150]
Pitt had thought of it, but Horsfall had no reason to fear anything now. “If he were going to, he’d have gone when Cadell shot himself,” he said aloud.
“Suppose he knows?” Tellman pursed his lips, frowning. “If he does, why is he still here? Does he inherit the orphanage? Where does the money go anyway? Why share it with Cadell in the first place? Do you suppose this is Cadell’s house?”
Those thoughts had occurred to Pitt also, and others that troubled him even more. At the back of his mind was the complacent expression in Wallace’s face when Pitt had told him Dunraithe White had resigned from the bench, and even when he had said that Cadell was dead.
Wallace’s impassivity about White could have either of two explanations. He did not know of White’s involvement, and therefore his resignation held no meaning for Wallace, or he knew the blackmailer would not allow White to resign. He would let him know that if he did, he would exercise his threat and ruin him anyway.
Then why had he not been shattered to learn of Cadell’s death? That removed every chance for him of escape from the noose.
There could be only one answer … it was not Cadell he was depending upon.
Either Cadell had an accomplice … which would explain why Horsfall was still there, or it was not Cadell who was the blackmailer, but someone else.
Tellman was watching Pitt, waiting for him to speak.
It could not be Guy Stanley. He would not have ruined himself, not so completely. Neither did Pitt believe it was Balantyne. He had never even considered that it could be Cornwallis. That left White and Tannifer.
He looked up at Tellman. “Where was Dunraithe White when Cadell was shot?”
“You mean, you don’t think he shot himself?” Tellman seized on the change of wording instantly.
“I don’t know,” Pitt replied. He shoved his hands hard into his pockets, leaning against the wall and staring back at Tellman.
“No one else was there,” Tellman pointed out. “You said so yourself.”
“Wallace believes the blackmailer is still alive, and he knows Cadell is dead,” Pitt argued. “What about Tannifer?”
“I don’t know.” Tellman shook his head. He moved restlessly about the room. “But he can’t have been at Cadell’s house, or he’d have been seen.”
There was no further time to pursue it because at that moment the door opened and Horsfall came in looking blankly from one to the other of them.
“Good morning, gentlemen. What can I do for you this time?”
His smug unconcern infuriated Pitt, the more so for his own inner confusion. Something essential was still eluding him, and he was bitterly aware of it.
“Good morning,” he said grimly, his body tight and his jaw clenched. “How many children have you here at present, Mr. Horsfall?”
Horsfall looked startled. “Why … about fifteen, I think.” He shot a look at Tellman, and then swallowed. “We have been very fortunate in placing several … lately.”
“Good!” Pitt said. “Where?”
“What?”
“Where?” Pitt repeated a little more loudly.
“I don’t understand ….” He was still only mildly uncomfortable.
“Where have you placed them, Mr. Horsfall?”
Tellman moved to the door, as if to cut off Horsfall’s retreat.
“Er … you mean the exact addresses? I should have to look it up. Is there something amiss? Has someone proved unsatisfactory?”
“Unsatisfactory? What an odd word to use of a child,” Pitt said coldly. “Sounds more like placing a servant.”
Horsfall swallowed again. He eased his shoulders up and down, as if to relax tense muscles.
“Yes … silly of me,” he agreed. “But I feel responsible for our children. Sometimes people expect better behavior than … than young people are capable of. New surroundings … strange … new people … not all children respond well. They become used to us here, of course, used to our ways.” He was talking a little too quickly. “Don’t always understand change … even if it is change for their good ….”
“I know.” Pitt’s voice was like ice. “I have children myself, Mr. Horsfall.”
“Oh …” Horsfall paled. He licked his lips. Pitt had said nothing threatening, but the look in his eyes was enough to warn of