Farriers' Lane - Anne Perry [121]
“Good day, Mrs. Stafford.”
His interview with Adolphus Pryce was conducted in Pryce’s office, and began comfortably enough with Pitt sitting in the large easy chair which was provided for clients. Pryce himself stood by the window with his back to the bookcase, a slender figure of innate grace.
“I don’t know what else to add, Inspector,” he said with a slight shrug. “Of course I know opium is sold in all sorts of general shops, so one supposes it may be purchased fairly easily. I have never used it myself, so it is only a deduction on my part. But surely that applies to anyone? To the unfortunate members of Aaron Godman’s circle as much as to me, or anyone else Judge Stafford met that day?”
“Indeed,” Pitt agreed. “I asked only as a formality. I never imagined it would produce anything of value.”
Pryce smiled and moved a little away from the window, swinging his chair around behind his desk and sitting down in it, his legs elegantly crossed.
“So what can I tell you, Inspector? All I know of the Farriers’ Lane case is a matter of public record. I believed at the time it was Aaron Godman, and I have not learned what it is that made Judge Stafford doubt it. He said nothing specific to me.”
“Do you not find that surprising, Mr. Pryce?” Pitt asked as ingenuously as he could. “Considering your own part in the case.”
“Not if he was still only suspicious,” Pryce said, his voice cultured and reasonable. If he felt any anxiety he was masking it. Pitt could have sworn the subject was causing him no personal concern, only the professional interest that was his duty. “I would expect him to wait until he had irrefutable evidence before reopening such a notorious case,” Pryce went on, “and calling into question a verdict already reached by the original court, and later by five justices of appeal.” He leaned a little farther backwards in his chair. “Perhaps you are not aware of just how deep the feeling was at the time. It was profoundly ugly. A lot of reputations were at stake, possibly even the reputation of English justice itself. No, I am quite sure Mr. Stafford would have to have been very certain indeed of his evidence before he would have mentioned it to anyone at all. Even in the utmost confidence.”
Pitt looked at him as closely as he could without appearing to stare. Juniper had been filled with fears. Pryce seemed completely confident. Was it simply greater self-mastery, or had he a good conscience, and no slightest thought that it might have been she who had poisoned Stafford?
Deliberately Pitt tried to break the calm.
“I take your point, Mr. Pryce. But of course I have to consider the alternative as well. Very possibly it had nothing to do with the Farriers’ Lane case, but was a personal matter.”
“I suppose that is possible,” Pryce said carefully, but the tone of his voice had altered very slightly. He did not ask in what way. He was not as easy to rattle as Juniper.
“I regret the necessity for being so blunt, Mr. Pryce,” Pitt continued. “But I am aware of your relationship with Mrs. Stafford. For many men that would be a motive.”
Pryce breathed in and out slowly before replying. He uncrossed his ankles.
“I daresay, but not for me. Is that what you came here to ask?”
“Among other things,” Pitt conceded with a slight shrug. “Are you telling me that you were not tempted? You must have wished Judge Stafford … gone? Or have I misjudged the depth of your feeling for Mrs. Stafford?”
“No.” Pryce picked up a stick of sealing wax and played with it absently, his eyes avoiding Pitt’s. “No, of course not. But no depth of feeling excuses murder.”
“What does it excuse?” Pitt asked, still courteously, even though his words were harsh.
“I am not sure that I understand you,” Pryce said guardedly, but his confidence was gone. His fingers were fiddling nervously with the sealing wax and he was breathing more rapidly.
Pitt waited, refusing to help or to dismiss the subject.
“Love.” Pryce moved a little in his chair. “It explains