Callander Square - Anne Perry [100]
“Er—” Reggie tried to fill in until he invented something, “—well—yes, it does sound—”
“A bit thin,” Pitt finished for him. “Suppose you tell me the truth?”
“Er—truth!”
“Yes, sir. Why was Dr. Bolsover really blackmailing you?”
“I—” Reggie seemed frozen.
“If I have to ask others in order to find out, it will be a lot more uncomfortable for you,” Pitt pointed out. “If you tell me, providing there is no crime involved, I shall be as discreet as I can. Time is important. We have a murderer somewhere in this square: and he may not be finished yet!”
“Oh God!”
“Why was Dr. Bolsover blackmailing you, Mr. Southeron?”
Reggie gasped and swallowed.
“Another affair I had.” His eyes were hot, uncomfortable, searching somewhere over Pitt’s shoulder. “Woman was married. Husband important fellow. Could do me a spot of damage, if he found out. You understand?”
Pitt looked at him for a long moment. He was lying.
“How did the governess ever come to know about it?” he asked.
“What?” Reggie’s head jerked up. “Oh. Er—”
“You said she was blackmailing you too,” Pitt reminded him. “Would you like to amend that now?”
Suddenly Reggie’s eyes cleared.
“No! No, she was. Very greedy young woman. That must be why Freddie was killed! Yes, it all fits in, don’t you see?” He sat up a little. “They must have quarreled over the money! She wanted more than her share, he refused, and she killed him. Makes sense: all fits together!”
“How did the governess come to know of this affair of yours? Did you have the woman here?”
“Good God, of course not! What on earth do you think I am?”
“Then how did she know, sir?”
“I don’t know! Freddie must have said something!”
“Why on earth should he do that? Why share his spoils unnecessarily? Seems an unlikely thing to do.”
“How in hell should I know?” Reggie demanded furiously.
“Perhaps he was having an affair with her, and he told her in a moment of boasting, or something! We’ll never know now. Poor swine is dead.”
“The governess isn’t.”
“Well, you can hardly expect her to tell you the truth!” There was a rising note in Reggie’s voice that sounded uncommonly like panic.
Pitt gambled again.
“I think it sounds more likely to me, sir, that this woman you had an affair with wasn’t the wife of some powerful man at all, but another maid.”
Reggie’s eyes glinted.
“As you’ve just pointed out, Inspector; it would hardly be worth anything to me to pay for silence over something as trifling as that!”
“Not if that’s all there was to it,” Pitt agreed with a small smile, his eyes fixed on Reggie’s face unblinkingly. “But what if there were more to it, a child, say?”
Reggie went pasty white. For a moment it occurred to Pitt that he might have a fit.
“One of your parlormaids died, didn’t she?” Pitt asked slowly, making each word weigh heavily.
Reggie gagged for breath.
“You didn’t murder her, did you, Mr. Southeron?” Pitt asked.
“God! Oh God! No, I didn’t. She died. Freddie was with her. We called him in. Had to. That’s how he knew.”
“What did she die of?”
“I—I don’t know!”
“Do I have to ask the female staff?” Pitt said softly.
“No!” There was a moment’s silence. “No,” Reggie said more quietly. “She had an abortion. It went wrong. That’s why she died. I didn’t know anything about it. I couldn’t have saved her. You’ve got to believe that.”
“But it was your child?”
“How do I know?”
Pitt permitted his disgust to show at last.
“You mean you were sharing her with someone else? The footman, perhaps, or the bootboy?” he said harshly.
“How dare you! I’ll have you remember your place!”
“Your place, at the moment, Mr. Southeron,” Pitt snapped back, “is extremely unpleasant! A parlormaid carrying your child dies in your house from a badly done abortion. You are being blackmailed by your doctor over the affair. Now your doctor is murdered outside your house. What strikes you as the obvious conclusion to draw from that?”
“I—I told