Buckingham Palace Gardens - Anne Perry [140]
“So ’e knew wot room it would ’appen in,” she followed his reasoning, although it frightened her so she was cold in the depth of her stomach. “Wot if the Prince jus’ woke up an’ all the blood were over ’im, but not ’er? Then it wouldn’t matter where she were killed.” She gulped. “Mr. Pitt, I got an idea as she weren’t killed ’ere at all. That box wot were brought in ’ad another body in it, not ’er. An’ Sadie packed ’erself inter the box again an’ were taken out without no one knowin’ ’cept Mr. Dunkeld.”
Pitt stared at her, a dawning understanding of the entire plan on his face. “Dunkeld was the one who hired the women!” he exclaimed. “They were allies in it. To blackmail the Prince of Wales into helping them with the African railway. Then he couldn’t afford not to be entirely on Dunkeld’s side, no matter what he actually believed. Dunkeld simply used the opportunity to get rid of Sorokine at the same time!”
Gracie blinked. “Then ’oo killed Mrs. Sorokine? ’Oo did she accuse? It ’ad ter be ’er pa, because ’e were the one wot ’ad the dish.”
His face creased in pity. “Poor Minnie. She was far too clever for her own survival. I dare say he didn’t mean to kill her, just lost his temper and—”
“Yer don’ slit someone’s throat ’cos yer lost yer temper,” Gracie pointed out. “An’ yer certainly don’t slice their guts open.”
“He had to make it look like the first crime,” Pitt reminded her. “And he had to make the first crime look like the one in Cape Town.”
“’Ow’d ’e know wot that one were like?” she asked.
“From someone who saw it, I don’t know who. But it fits, Gracie.” His voice took on a vibrancy again. “Dunkeld planned it for long before he came. He brought blood, and a replacement dish. He knew it was there. Someone must have shown it to him. He’s been the Prince’s guest here before.”
Gracie shivered.
“He had a dead woman brought in,” Pitt went on. “And you’re right, Sadie was part of the plot. It could be she who insisted on sleeping in the Queen’s bed!” He was speaking more rapidly, his voice eager now. “When the Prince was in a drunken stupor, perhaps aided by a powder of some sort, she slipped out and went to Cahoon.
“Perhaps she even helped Cahoon take the dead woman out of the box, before getting into it herself. After the box was removed, Cahoon carried the dead woman, probably in a blanket or something, and put her beside the Prince, and splashed some of the blood around. He kept the rest to put in the linen cupboard, then went to bed. That’s why we could never find Sadie’s clothes—she was still wearing them. Cahoon had already arranged for a message to come, and went to waken the Prince himself, and make absolutely certain he was in the spot to see the mess, and offer to help!”
“The bleedin’ bastard!” she said with profound feeling. “Wot yer gonna do? Yer can’t let Mr. Sorokine be put away for it!”
“Of course not. I’m going to see His Royal Highness.” He rose.
“Be careful!” she cried out. “Mr. Pitt, ’e in’t goin’ ter—”
“When Mr. Narraway comes back, tell him what has happened,” he cut across her. “And ask him to wait until I return.” He left without even looking back to see if she would obey.
She stood still, hands clenched, her body shaking.
She was terrified for what would happen to him. Suddenly everything that mattered was falling apart. The people she had regarded with admiration were no wiser or braver than she was. The Palace itself was just like anywhere else, full of pettiness, ambition, and shifts of truth. And now Pitt was walking straight into disaster like a child going to feed lions, and she hadn’t stopped him, and there was nobody to ask for help.
Hot tears scalded her eyes.
AGAIN PITT HAD to wait until the Prince was willing