Farriers' Lane - Anne Perry [129]
“Did the doorman see who gave the boy the message?” Pitt asked.
Paterson shrugged very slightly. “A figure, not much more. Said ’e thought it were someone fairly large, but then ’e changed ’is mind and weren’t sure whether it was because ’e were standing in the shadow. Certainly the doorman didn’t see ’is face.”
“So as far as he knew, it could have been Aaron Godman, or almost anyone else?” Pitt said.
“Anyone of more or less average height,” Paterson agreed. “But then if it was Godman, he would be careful not to be seen, wouldn’t ’e?” He raised his eyebrows. “Because ’e would know the doorman would recognize ’im, and remember.”
“That’s true. You found the boy. What did he say?”
Paterson looked less certain. “Like I said, ’e weren’t a very good witness. Just a street urchin, begging, stealing, surviving ’ow ’e could. ’Ated the police, like all ’is kind.” He sniffed and shifted a little in the seat. “ ’E said the man what gave ’im the message was old, then young. Said ’e were big, then ordinary. Frankly, sir, I don’t think ’e knew. All ’e cared about was the sixpence the fellow gave ’im. ’E did say ’e ’ad a Jewish nose, and seemed very excited. But then ’e would be. ’E were planning to murder a man.”
“Was he always uncertain, or did he change his mind?” Pitt asked, watching Paterson’s face.
Paterson hesitated. “Well … ’E changed ’is mind, but honestly, I don’t think ’e ever knew. ’E were un’elpful right from the start. That sort is. Don’t know the truth from lies ’alf the time.”
“Did he identify Aaron Godman?”
“No, not definite. Said ’e couldn’t be sure. But then ’elpin’ the police don’t come natural to them.”
“What put you onto Godman? Why not O’Neil, or Fielding?”
“Oh, we considered them, right enough.” Paterson’s voice had a hard edge to it now and his face was full of anger. “And I admit it often crossed my mind that Mr. Fielding might ’a known more than ’e ever said. But it was proved fair and square that it was Godman as did it.”
“Wasn’t there a quarrel between Blaine and O’Neil?”
“Yes, and according to some gentlemen we found who overheard it, it was pretty bad at the time, but the sort of ’eated quarrel young gentlemen ’ave when they’re a bit the worse for champagne and think their honor’s been questioned.” He looked at Pitt irritably, as if Pitt were raising the issue beyond reason. “It was all over a wager, and only a few pounds at stake. Which might seem a lot to you an’ me, but to the likes o’ them it weren’t much. Nobody but a madman would murder ’is friend over a few pounds.” His lips pulled crooked with the memory, and once again rage and horror overtook his momentary annoyance with Pitt. “Beggin’ your pardon, sir, but you didn’t see that body. A man would ’ave to be insane with ’ate to do that to anyone. That weren’t caused by no quick temper over a wager—’ooever did that ’ad ’ated long and deep before it came to that night.”
Pitt did not argue. The fierceness in Paterson’s voice and the sick memory in his eyes stifled it before it came to his tongue.
“O’Neil is married to Blaine’s widow, you know,” he said instead.
“I know that,” Paterson said between his teeth. “And don’t think I ’aven’t wondered since if ’e ’ad that in ’is mind before Blaine was dead,” he went on sharply. “ ’E may ’ave. That don’t mean to say ’e killed Blaine. No sir, Godman did that.” His face set hard and there was a flicker of loathing in his blue eyes. “Blaine were playing fast and loose with ’is sister. Got ’er with child, and promised to marry ’er, which ’e never intended to,” he said bitterly. “And when Godman found that out ’e lost ’is ’ead. You know Jews don’t like us touching their women any more’n we like it