Death in the Devil's Acre - Anne Perry [82]
“Possibly. Although there weren’t many society women among his patients.”
“‘Well-bred’ is relative, Pitt. Almost anything would appear to be a lady in the Acre.”
Pitt stood up reluctantly. “Then I’d better go and ask a few more questions—”
“You’re not going by yourself!” Athelstan said in alarm. “I can’t afford another murder in the Acre!”
Pitt stared at him. “Thank you,” he said dryly. “I shouldn’t like to embarrass you.”
“Damn it—”
“I’ll take a constable with me—two, if you like?”
Athelstan pulled himself to attention. “It’s an order, Pitt—an order, you understand?”
“Yes, sir, I’ll go now ... with two constables.”
Ambrose Mercutt was incensed with a mixture of outrage and very real fear that he would be blamed for Pitt’s injury, which was now common talk in the Acre.
“It’s your own fault!” Mercutt said peevishly. “Go wandering around places you’re not wanted, poking your nose into other people’s private business—of course you get stabbed. Lucky you weren’t garroted! Downright stupid. If you pushed everyone around the way you did my people, I’m only surprised you weren’t killed.”
Pitt did not argue. He knew his own mistake; it was not in having come into the Acre, but in having forgotten to keep up the appearance, to walk like a man who belonged here. He had allowed himself to become conspicuous. It was careless and, as Ambrose said, stupid.
“And sorry, too, no doubt,” Pitt said. “Who looks after your women when they get sick?”
“What?”
Pitt repeated the question, but Ambrose was quick to understand. “Not Pinchin, if that’s what you think.”
“Maybe. But we’ll speak to all your women, just in case. They may remember something you don’t.”
Mercutt’s face was white. “All right! He may have looked after one or two of them from time to time. What of it? He was very useful. Some of the stupid bitches get with child sometimes. He took care of it, and took his pay in kind. So I’d be the last person to kill him, wouldn’t I?”
“Not if he was blackmailing you.”
“Blackmailing me?” His voice rose to a screech at the idiocy of the idea. “Whatever for? Everyone knows what business I’m in. I don’t pretend to be something I’m not. I could have blackmailed him—I could have ruined his nice respectable practice at Highgate—if I’d wanted to. But the arrangement suited me well enough. When he was killed, I had to find someone else.”
Pitt could not move him from that, no matter what other questions or pressures he put forth. Finally he and the constables left and went to another bawdy house, and another, and another.
It was five o’clock when Pitt, tired and sore, came with the two constables to the house of the Dalton sisters. He had kept them until last on purpose; he was looking forward to the warmth, the agreeable atmosphere, and perhaps a cup of hot tea.
Both Mary and Victoria were present this time; he was received with the same domestic calm as before and invited to the sitting room. He accepted the offer of refreshment with rather more speed than grace.
Mary looked at him suspiciously, but Victoria was as civil as before. “Ernest Pomeroy did not come here,” she said candidly, pouring the tea and passing it to him. The constables were in the main entrance room, embarrassed and thoroughly enjoying themselves.
“No,” Pitt said, accepting the cup. “I already know where he went. I was thinking of Dr. Pinchin.”
Her eyebrows rose and her gray eyes were like smooth winter seas. “I don’t see all our customers, but I don’t recall him. He was certainly not murdered here—or anywhere near here.”
“Did you know him? Professionally, perhaps?”
The ghost of a smile touched her mouth. “His profession or mine, Mr. Pitt?”
He smiled back. “His, Miss Dalton.”
“No. I have good health, and when I do not, I know well enough what to do for myself.”
“How about your women—your girls?”
“No,” Mary said immediately. “If anyone is sick, we look after them.”
Pitt turned to look at her. She was younger than Victoria. Her face lacked the power of will, the resolution in the eyes, but it had the same smooth, country look, the short nose and soft