Callander Square - Anne Perry [3]
Pitt went to the nearest house, up the steps, and knocked discreetly at the door, then stepped back.
Several minutes later it was opened by a well-built, darkly handsome footman. He looked at Pitt with heavy-lidded, supercilious eyes. Years of training had taught him to sum up a man even before he opened his mouth. He knew instantly that Pitt was a little better than a tradesman, but far from being a man of birth, let alone a gentleman.
“Yes, sir?” he inquired with a faint lift of his voice.
“Inspector Pitt, police.” Pitt met his eye levelly. “I would like to speak to the mistress of the house.”
The footman’s face was impassive.
“I am not aware that we have suffered any burglaries. Perhaps you have come to the wrong house? This is the residence of General Balantyne and Lady Augusta Balantyne.”
“Indeed. I did not know that. But it is the situation of the house that makes it of concern to me. May I come in?”
The footman hesitated. Pitt stood his ground.
“I’ll see if Lady Augusta will see you,” the footman conceded reluctantly. “You had better come in. You can wait in the morning room. I shall discover if her ladyship has finished her breakfast.”
It was a long, irritating half hour before the morning room door opened and Lady Augusta Balantyne came in. She was a handsome woman with bone china elegance of feature, and dressed in expensive and classic taste. She looked at Pitt without curiosity.
“Max says that you wish to see me, Mr.—er—”
“Pitt. Yes ma’am, if you please.”
“What about, pray?”
Pitt looked at her. She was not a woman with whom to prevaricate. He plunged straight in.
“Yesterday evening two bodies were dug up in the gardens in the middle of the square—”
Lady Augusta’s eyebrows rose in disbelief.
“In Callander Square? Don’t be ridiculous! Bodies of what, Mr.—er?”
“Pitt,” he repeated. “Babies, ma’am. The bodies of two newborn babies were found buried in the gardens. One was about six months ago, the other nearer to two years.”
“Oh dear,” she was visibly distressed. “How very tragic. I suppose some maidservant—To the best of my knowledge it is no one in my household, but of course I shall make inquiries, if you wish.”
“I would prefer to do it myself, ma’am; with your permission.” He tried to make it affirmative, as though he were assuring her agreement rather than asking her permission. “Naturally I shall be calling at all the houses in the square—”
“Of course. My offer was merely a matter of courtesy. If you discover anything that involves my household, naturally you will inform me.” Again it was a statement and not a question. Authority sat on her easily, long a familiar garment, and she had no need to display it.
He smiled acknowledgment, but he did not commit himself in words.
She reached for the bell and rang it. The butler appeared.
“Hackett, Mr. Pitt is from the police. There have been two babies found in the gardens. He will be questioning the servants in all the houses. Will you please find him a quiet room where he can speak to any of the staff he wishes? And see that they make themselves available.”
“Yes, my lady.” Hackett looked at Pitt with distaste, but obeyed precisely.
“Thank you, Lady Augusta,” Pitt inclined his head and followed the butler to a small room at the back which he supposed to be the housekeeper’s sitting room. He obtained a complete list of the female staff, and the essentials of information about each one. He did no more than speak to them this time. Everyone showed shock, dismay, pity; and everyone equally denied all knowledge. It was exactly what he had expected.
He was in the hall, looking for either the butler or one of the footmen to say he was finished, for the time being, when he saw another young woman coming out of one of the doorways. There was no possibility she was a servant; far more suggestive of her position than her silk gown or her beautifully dressed and coiffed hair was the