Belgrave Square - Anne Perry [48]
“We’ll find him,” Drummond said rashly, perhaps Eleanor Byam more in his mind than her husband. “Pitt won’t rest until he finds the truth—I promise you that.”
Byam smiled and offered his hand.
Drummond took it, held it a moment, then walked to the door.
4
SINCE THE FIRST LIST had yielded nothing, Pitt was faced with the necessity of pursuing the names on Weems’s second list. He wanted to put off as long as possible the burden of investigating his fellow police officer, therefore he began with Addison Carswell. He already had his address so beginning was not difficult; it was merely a matter of choosing which aspect of his life to examine first.
The sensible place seemed to be his home. One may learn a great deal about a man by seeing how he lives, what his domestic tastes are, how much money he appears to have at his disposal, and upon what he chooses to spend it. Perhaps even more may be learned about his financial circumstances by meeting his wife and estimating his family responsibilities.
Accordingly Pitt set off for Mayfair. The hansom sped through warm, busy streets, passing broughams, landaus and carriages with ladies about errands. It was far too early for morning calls, which anyway were paid in the afternoon; this was the hour for visiting dressmakers and the like. There were delivery carts with all manner of goods, other hansoms with gentlemen beginning the business day, and here and there the occasional public omnibus, packed with men, women and children sitting upright or squeezed together, scrupulously ignoring each other and waiting for their own stop at which to dismount.
At Curzon Street, Pitt paid the cabby and alighted. It was a gracious way, and looking up and down it, he judged it to have been expensive and discreet for most of its history. If Addison Carswell was in financial difficulty he would find it a serious drain on his resources to maintain a residence here for long.
He went to the front door, hesitated a moment, rearranging in his mind what he planned to say, then pulled the bell, a fine brass affair with engraved numbers beneath it.
The door was opened by a parlormaid in a dark dress and crisp, lace-edged cap and apron. She was a handsome girl, tall and with a clear, country complexion, shining hair—everything a parlormaid should be. Addison Carswell would seem to pay attention to appearances—or perhaps it was Mrs. Carswell who cared. Very often it was women to whom such things mattered most.
“Yes sir?” she said with well-concealed surprise. Whoever she had expected, it was not Pitt.
He smiled with as much charm as he could, which was considerable, more than he was aware.
“Good morning. Mrs. Carswell is not expecting me, but I have a rather delicate errand with which she may be able to assist me. I would be most obliged if you would ask her if she would receive me.” With a feeling of considerable satisfaction he pulled his card out of his inner pocket and presented it to her. It stated his name but not his police rank. It was an extravagance he had indulged in a few years ago, and it still gave him inordinate pleasure.
The parlormaid looked at it doubtfully, but in spite of his less than elegant appearance, his voice was beautiful, well modulated, and his diction excellent. She made a rapid judgment of her own, and smiled back.
“Certainly sir. If you will wait in the morning room I will inform Mrs. Carswell you are here.”
“Thank you.” Pitt had no time to look around the entrance hallway, but when he was left in the morning room he spent the ten minutes she kept him waiting in close scrutiny of everything in the room. This was his primary purpose in coming, and if she refused to see him, might well be all he would achieve.
The furniture was very traditional, showing far more comfort than imagination in its style. It was mostly of heavy oak, overornamented for Pitt’s taste, but of good quality. Nothing was scratched or marred as if it had been carelessly used, or cheaply purchased. The sofa and chairs had been recently upholstered, there were no worn