Bedford Square - Anne Perry [153]
“Paris,” Tannifer replied, leaning back a little in his wide chair, his hands folded comfortably. “I went over in the steamer the day before. Exhausting. But banking is an international business. Why do you ask?”
“Only interest,” Pitt replied. Suddenly all his anger returned in a wave, almost choking him. “And did you deposit money in a French bank?”
Tannifer’s eyes widened. “I did, as a matter of fact. Is it of interest to you, Superintendent?” He was at ease, bland, sure of himself.
“Is that where the money ends up from the orphanage, in a French bank?” Pitt said icily.
Tannifer did not move. His expression did not change, but his voice was oddly different in timbre.
“Money from the orphanage? I don’t understand you.”
“The orphanage at Kew which is supported by the committee of the Jessop Club,” Pitt explained elaborately. “All of whose members were victims of the blackmailer.”
Tannifer stared back at him. “Were they? You never mentioned the names of the other victims.”
“Yes … Cornwallis, Stanley, White, Cadell, Balantyne and you,” Pitt answered him gravely, ice in his voice. “Balantyne especially. That’s why the corpse was left on his doorstep, to terrify him, possibly have him arrested for murder. Of course, that is why Wallace tried to kill Albert Cole to begin with, only Cole fought back and escaped.” His eyes did not move from Tannifer’s. “Then he thought of the excellent idea of using Slingsby, whom he knew, and who resembled Cole so much. He bought the socks himself, spinning a yarn so the clerk would remember him and identify him as Cole, and put the receipt on Slingsby’s body. And Balantyne’s snuffbox too, of course.”
“Ingenious …” Tannifer was watching Pitt closely He opened his mouth as if to lick his lips, then changed his mind.
“Wasn’t it,” Pitt agreed, not even allowing his eyes to flicker. “If any of the committee had taken up Balantyne’s anxiety over the amount of money put into the orphanage, for what was actually very few children indeed, then the blackmail threat would have silenced them.”
Parthenope was staring at Pitt, her fair brows drawn into a frown, her mouth pinched.
“Why did it matter that there was too much money and very few children, Superintendent?” she asked. “Surely only too little would be cause for concern? Why would Mr. Cadell want that kept silent? I don’t understand.”
“The answer was not easy to find.” He spoke now to her, not to Tannifer. “You see, the committee put money into the orphanage, and a great many orphans were sent there from all over London. But it also made a huge profit, tens of thousands of pounds, over the years because the children didn’t stay there very long.” He looked at her puzzled face, the wild emotions in it, and felt a moment’s misgiving. But his anger was white-hot. “You see, they were sold to work in factories and mills and mines, especially mines, where they can crawl into spaces grown men cannot ….”
She gasped, her face bloodless, her voice choking.
“I’m sorry,” Pitt apologized. “I’m sorry you had to know that, Mrs. Tannifer. But the proceeds from this trade are what has finished this beautiful house and bought the silk gown you are wearing.”
“It can’t be!” Her words were torn from her in a kind of shout.
Pitt took the papers from the orphanage out of his pockets and held them up.
Parthenope swung around to Tannifer, her eyes beseeching, filled with terror.
“My dear, they were East End orphans for the most part,” he said reasonably. “Perfectly used to hard conditions. They were not children of people like us. They would have had to work wherever they were. At least this way they won’t starve.”
She stood frozen.
“Parthenope!” There was impatience in his tone. “Please have a sense of proportion, my dear, and of the realities of life. This situation is something you know nothing about. You really have no idea—”
Her voice was harsh, a travesty of its previous beauty.
“Leo Cadell was innocent!” There was agony in her cry.
“He was innocent of blackmail, yes,” he conceded. “But nothing was ever asked for,