Callander Square - Anne Perry [60]
“Oh, without doubt,” Pitt was unaffected by her arrogance. His face was perfectly smooth, his tone warm. “But perhaps not to his taste.”
“I have no idea what his tastes might be!” Christina snapped. “It is hardly a matter that interests me.”
Pitt grunted, apparently turning the consideration over in his mind. He was still looking at her, and she avoided his eyes.
“How long has he been in Callander Square?” he asked.
“About six years.” It was Brandy who replied, his face innocent. Augusta weighed the idea of sending him out, finding some excuse to get rid of him; but seeing Pitt’s clever, watchful face, knew it would be a misjudgment, a reinforcement of any suspicion he might be entertaining.
“A good footman?” Pitt inquired.
“Excellent,” Brandy answered. “Don’t like the fellow, but can’t fault him. Believe me, if I could, I’d have thrown him out!”
“Couldn’t you throw him out anyway?” Pitt assumed ignorance.
“I suppose so,” Brandy was still casual. “Doesn’t bother me enough, really. And he seems to satisfy everyone else.”
“No complaints from female staff?”
“No, none at all.”
“Maids willing? Or does he seek his pleasures elsewhere?”
“Mr. Pitt!” Augusta stepped in at last. “I do not permit fornication in my house, willing or unwilling! Whatever appetites my footmen may have, I assure you they exercise them elsewhere!”
But Pitt was watching Christina. Merciful heaven! Surely he could not possibly know anything? There was no way—was there?
“If you think Max may be responsible, Inspector,” she said with as much composure as she could manage, and without looking at Christina, “I would suggest that you look for the woman beyond this house. Perhaps if you resume your questioning in the other establishments in the square?”
“Much easier to ask Max,” Brandy offered. “The poor girl will not be likely to admit anything, certainly not now. Press Max a bit, make him squirm. Find out who his lady loves are—”
Augusta gasped, but it was Christina who broke.
“No!” she gulped. “That would be foolish,” she said, her tongue fumbling over the words. “And unfair! You have no reason to suppose it has anything to do with Max. I won’t have you upsetting our servants. Mother, please!”
“It does seem unwarranted,” Augusta chose her words very carefully. “Have you any cause for your suspicions, Inspector? Because if not, I must refuse you permission to harass my staff. Come back with proof, and of course I shall give you every assistance.”
Christina took a deep breath and let it out.
The door opened and the general came in. He stopped in surprise.
“Good morning, sir,” Pitt said courteously.
“What are you doing here again?” Balantyne asked. “Found out something?”
“He’s looking for the man,” Brandy answered him. “Thinks it could be Max, and he wants to speak to him.”
“Good idea,” Balantyne said decisively. “Get it cleared up one way or the other.” He leaned over, and before Augusta could stop him, he pulled the bell cord. A moment later Max came in. He must have been standing in the hall.
Pitt’s eyes met his, surveyed the dark, sensual face, the immaculate clothes.
“Yes, sir?” Max inquired.
“Any romantic interests, any woman?” Balantyne spoke, abruptly, with all the tact of a heavy cavalry charge. Augusta winced.
Max’s face altered only barely.
“I beg your pardon, sir?”
“Aren’t I plain enough, man? Have you any romantic attachments? Do you have any lady friends, call them what you will?”
”I have no intention of marrying, sir.”
“That is not what I asked, damn it! Don’t play the fool with me.”
“My most recent romantic attachment has just ended, I fear,” Max was smiling under the heavy lids, and he looked almost imperceptibly at Christina.
“Who was she?”
“With the greatest respect, sir that can be of no interest to the police. She is a woman of respectability, of very good family.” His voice was rich with his own suppressed amusement.
Augusta could only stand and let disaster come. Perhaps Max himself would protect