Buckingham Palace Gardens - Anne Perry [115]
“Mr. Narraway is looking into Mr. Sorokine’s past, sir,” he began tentatively. “To see if there is any other incident of a similar nature.”
“Quite right,” the Prince agreed, nodding his head. “But that is not my concern, nor that of those involved with the railway. We will have to think of replacing Sorokine. That will be our most immediate task. Thank you for your information, Mr. Pitt, but it is not necessary to let us know anything further. Good day to you. I shall naturally thank Narraway for lending you to us in so complete a fashion.”
Pitt gritted his teeth and felt his face burn. It was partly a result of being so dismissed that allowed him to stay on the spot.
“I am sure Mr. Narraway will appreciate that, sir, and inform you that we are always at your service. I believe he will arrange to take Mr. Sorokine tomorrow.”
“A very sad end. I liked him. But if that is how it has to be done,” the Prince said wearily. “It is of little importance now.”
“They will also remove Mrs. Sorokine’s body,” Pitt went on, still standing in the same spot, although the Prince had moved half a step closer, and he felt crowded. There was a battle of wills between them.
“I imagine Mr. Dunkeld will wish her to have a Christian burial at some church of his choice, perhaps a family crypt.”
The Prince looked taken aback. “Yes…yes, I imagine so. It will…” He stopped because what he had been going to say sounded callous and he changed his mind and bit back the words. So much was clear in his expression. “I would attend, but it would draw unwelcome attention. Poor man.” A flicker of anxiety crossed his face. “I hope you will be discreet with taking Sorokine away. It would displease me deeply if there were to be a fuss now, causing speculation. Perhaps you could have him carried out, as if he were ill? In a way he is.” He gave a slight shudder of distaste. “Under proper restraint, of course.”
Pitt’s temper flared up and he physically ached with the effort of controlling it. He had liked Sorokine too. The Prince would think him very ordinary, very unsophisticated for it, but Julius Sorokine was the only one who had declined to attend the party, even though he was not in love with his wife, and she very clearly had had an affair with his half-brother.
“There are one or two matters I still need to clear up,” he said quickly, speaking with his jaw tight, teeth almost clenched, slurring his words. “We must leave the matter beyond any question.”
“Surely it is beyond question now?” the Prince said, eyebrows arched. “Sorokine killed the woman, his wife deduced it and confronted him, and he killed her. What else is there to know? He is clearly insane. It is not only discreet, but merciful that we have him committed to private care for the rest of his life. Were he a lesser man he would be hanged.”
“He would also be tried first, and given the opportunity to defend himself,” Pitt retorted instantly, and just as instantly knew that he had made an unforgivable error as far as the Prince was concerned.
“How?” the Prince said coldly. “By claiming that he is a lunatic? We already know as much.”
Pitt was acutely aware that he was in the presence of the man who would one day, perhaps soon, be his sovereign, and to whom he would swear his oath of allegiance. In this man’s name all the law of the land would be administered. He felt a traitor even to allow such thoughts into his mind, but they were there.
“Sir, in the course of the killing of the woman, Sadie, a piece of Limoges china was broken into very small pieces indeed. From what is left of it, I can judge its approximate shape and coloring. It appears to have been a pedestal dish, white, with a picture with clear cobalt blue figuring quite prominently and a gold rim. In what room was that dish kept?”
The Prince stared at him, blinking several times. His skin looked curiously sweaty, although the room was cool.
“Sir?” Pitt repeated.
“I don’t recall such a dish,” the Prince said huskily. “There’s a great