Rutland Place - Anne Perry [83]
Her mind raced to find a way of accepting that was not wildly foolish. If he or his family had killed Ottilie, and then Mina, they would not balk at killing her just as easily. Yet perhaps she was being offered the solution. And if the stolen articles had really been returned, how did Inigo Charrington know it? Why had Caroline not told her? Anyway, why would a thief take them and then return them? It made no sense—unless it was involved with the murder. Had Mina been the thief, and had the murderer retrieved all the stolen things to mask the recovery of the one thing that would have damned him?
Suddenly the solution came to her. Emily would never permit such an opportunity to escape, and she could provide the means for Charlotte to accept.
“I shall take my sister’s carriage,” she replied with an assurance she hoped she could justify. “And naturally I shall tell her for what purpose, and who is to accompany me.”
“Excellent! Have you considered joining the police force yourself?”
“Don’t be impertinent!” she said acidly, but inside excitement was boiling up.
He smiled. “I think you would enjoy it enormously. Actually, I think I might myself. I shall collect you at six o’clock. What you are wearing will be adequate, if you take off that thing from the neck.”
“At six o’clock?” She was startled. “Why not now?”
“Because it is barely half past three, and far too early.”
She did not understand, but at least by six o’clock she would have had opportunity to make some arrangement with Emily, both to borrow the carriage and to be perfectly sure that Inigo Charrington did not imagine he could harm her in any way and remain at liberty himself.
When she arrived at her mother’s house and explained the matter to her sister—out of Caroline’s hearing, of course—Emily was aghast. Her immediate reaction was that Inigo had undoubtedly murdered his sister and now intended to do away with Charlotte as well.
“He would hardly be so foolish,” Charlotte replied, trying to weight her voice with conviction. “After all, if anything were to happen to me when you all know I am in his company, then he would damn himself completely. I believe he really is going to tell me how Ottilie died and show me some proof of it. I certainly will not believe it without proof!”
“Then I shall come with you,” Emily said instantly.
It was only with difficulty that Charlotte succeeded in persuading her that her presence might risk the whole venture. If the nature of Ottilie’s death had been such that the family was prepared to have it known, then Pitt would have discovered it in his own attempts. She could think of no satisfactory reason why Inigo was now willing to tell her, except that perhaps fear of the still greater danger of being suspected of murder hung over them. But if it were a matter of desperate embarrassment, even of humiliation, then the fewer people who were aware of it the easier for the family. And also since Charlotte was not of their own social circle, perhaps they would not suffer so acutely for her knowing the truth.
Emily accepted the argument with reluctance, but she was obliged to concede its validity. At least she made no protest about lending both her carriage and her footman. She would take the use of her mother’s to return to her home.
Inigo called at six o’clock precisely, dressed in an elegant coat of darkest green with a fine top hat.
It was on the tip of Charlotte’s tongue to ask him where on earth they might be going, but she bit back the words, remembering the need for discretion. Caroline had already delivered herself of her opinion of Charlotte’s behavior, and she forbore expressing it again in front of Inigo.
Inside the carriage he made sure that she was comfortable, then offered no further remark, but sat silent, a smile curving his mouth, while they drove through gaslit streets Charlotte had not seen before, seemingly toward the heart of the city.
She lost track of time. They turned endless corners till her sense of direction, which had never been good, vanished, and when at last they pulled up she