The Hyde Park Headsman - Anne Griffin Perry [164]
11
CHARLOTTE WAS DEVASTATED when Pitt told her that he had been dismissed. Perhaps she should have realized more fully how real was the possibility, but her mind had been too filled with other things: the new house, and of course selling the old one, Jack’s candidacy, Caroline’s love affair, now her marriage. She had never really believed this would happen—it was so unjust!
Her heart sank for him, for his pain and humiliation, but she was furious for the unfairness of it. Then lastly she was afraid for herself and her children. What about the new house now? How would they afford it? And the old house was gone, they could not simply move back.
All these thoughts and emotions raged through her and she knew they must show in her face. She had never been good enough at concealing her feelings, but she did all she could to hide them, even as the blood drained from her cheeks and her stomach went sick and cold.
“We’ll manage,” was all she contrived to say, and her voice was rasping, her mouth was so dry.
Pitt looked at her, his own face pale, his eyes hurt and tired.
“Of course we will,” he said gently, although he had no idea yet how. The thought of going back to work as an inspector again, in some other station miles away, was too bitter to do more than hear and turn away from until the reality of it forced itself upon him and he had to come to terms with it. Perhaps he would be able to persuade Farnsworth at least to make it at Central London station, so he could work in the area he knew and not spend half his time going backwards and forwards on omnibuses. He would not be able to afford a hansom.
For some time they both sat in silence, close together. Words would not help. There was nothing comforting to say except the banalities they had clearly both thought of, and dismissed.
At last Charlotte moved a little and sat more upright. She had lit the parlor fire, not because it was cold but because the flicker of the flames was comforting, creating briefly a little island from the rest of the world.
“Did Carvell finally admit it?” she asked.
“No.” His mind was suddenly filled with the image of Carvell’s wretched face, white and frightened, as he was taken down to the cells, his eyes meeting Pitt’s in an abject plea. “No, he denied it passionately.”
Charlotte stared at him.
“You believe him, don’t you?” she said after a moment or two. “You still don’t really think he did it!”
He sat still for several moments before replying. His face was crumpled with confusion, but there was no wavering in his voice when at last he answered.
“No. No, I can’t believe he would willingly have hurt Aidan Arledge. And if he had killed him in a fit of blind passion and rage, I think he would be a broken man afterwards, and not even attempt to escape. In fact, I honestly believe if he had done it, he would accept, even welcome, punishment.”
“Then you’ve got to find out who did do it, Thomas! You can’t let him be hanged for it!” She knelt in front of him earnestly, her voice strong, full of entreaty. “There must be something. No matter how clever he is, the Headsman will have left something undone, some thread that if we pull at it, carefully, we’ll unravel the truth.”
“That’s a nice thought,” he said, smiling at her. “But I’ve racked my brains to think of what that could be, and I’m no further forward.”
“You are too close to it,” she said immediately. “You are looking at the details, instead of the overall picture. What have all the victims in common?”
“Nothing,” he said simply.
“They must have! Winthrop and Scarborough were both bullies, and you said that the omnibus conductor was an officious little man. Perhaps he was a bully too.”
“But Arledge wasn’t. By every account he was a most courteous and gentle man.”
“Are you sure?” She looked