The Hyde Park Headsman - Anne Griffin Perry [167]
“Is that how that happened?” he asked.
Victor’s face tightened and his skin went suddenly white. His eyes were hard and very bright, staring fixedly at some spot in the far distance, or perhaps within his own memory.
“No,” he said between his teeth.
“What was it?” Pitt pressed, and found himself holding his own breath. He did not realize that the pain in the palms of his hands was his nails digging into the flesh.
“Some vile creature pushed me, and it knocked against the handrail,” Victor answered in a soft voice, his gaze still far away.
“The handrail?” Pitt questioned.
“Yes.”
Bart Mitchell shifted his position away from the mantel and opened his mouth to interrupt, then changed his mind.
“Of an omnibus?” Pitt said, almost in a whisper.
“What?” Victor looked around at him. “Oh—yes. People like that have … nothing inside them—no feeling—no souls!”
“It’s a senseless piece of vandalism,” Pitt agreed, swallowing hard and stepping back a little. “What I wanted to ask you, Mr. Garrick, was if you saw the butler, Scarborough, when he was directing the other servants that afternoon?”
“Who?”
“The butler, Scarborough.”
Victor still looked blank.
“A big man with a haughty face and arrogant manner.”
Victor’s eyes filled with comprehension and memory. “Oh yes. He was a bully, a contemptible man.” He winced at Pitt as he said it. “It is beyond forgiveness to use one’s power to abuse those who are in no position to defend themselves. I abhor it, and the people who do such things are …” He sighed. “I have no words for it. I search my mind and nothing comes which carries the weight of the anger I feel.”
“Did he actually dismiss the girl for singing?” Pitt asked, trying to keep his voice casual.
Victor raised his eyes and stared at him.
Pitt waited.
“Yes,” Victor said at length. “She was singing a little love song, quite softly, just a sad little thing about losing someone. He dismissed her without even listening to her explanation or apology.” His face was even whiter as he spoke and his lips were bloodless. “She cannot have been more than sixteen.” His whole body was tight, and he sat hunched, only his hands still gentle on the cello.
“Mrs. Radley heard it too,” Pitt said, not as any part of his plan, but spontaneously, from pity. “She offered the girl a position. She won’t be out on the street.”
Slowly Victor turned to gaze at him, his eyes softened, very bright blue, and the anger drained out of him.
“Did she?”
“Yes. She is my sister-in-law, and I know it is true.”
“And the man is dead,” Victor added. “So that’s all right.”
“Was that all you wanted to ask?” Bart said, stepping forward. “I saw nothing, and to the best of my knowledge, neither did my sister.”
“Oh, almost,” Pitt replied, looking not at him but at Mina. “The other matter was concerning Mr. Arledge.” He altered the tone of his voice to be deliberately harsher. “You told me before, Mrs. Winthrop, that your acquaintance with him was very slight, only a matter of a single kindness on one occasion when you were distressed over the death of a pet.”
She swallowed and hesitated. “Yes?”
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I do not believe you.”
“We have told you what happened, Superintendent,” Bart said grimly. “Whether you accept it or not, I am afraid that is all there is. You have the Headsman. There is no purpose whatever in your persisting in a matter which is peripheral at best.”
Pitt ignored him.
“I think you knew him considerably better than that,” he said to Mina. “And I do not believe the matter that distressed you was the death of a pet.”
She looked pale, and distinctly uncomfortable.
“My brother has already told you what happened, Superintendent. I have nothing to add to that.”
“I know Mr. Mitchell told me, ma’am. What I wonder is why you did not tell me yourself! Is it that you are not quite so quick with a lie? Or perhaps you did not think of one in time?”
“Sir, you are being gratuitously offensive.” Bart moved closer to Pitt, as if he would offer