Traitors Gate - Anne Perry [132]
Pitt sat a little farther upright. “About Mrs. Chancellor’s death?”
“Yes. Yes, he seemed most concerned. I couldn’t tell him anything I haven’t told you … which is almost nothing at all. He also wanted to know about both Mr. and Mrs. Thorne.” He laughed a little self-consciously. “And about me. I am not sure if he suspected I might have some involvement, or if he was simply desperate enough to pursue anything at all.”
Pitt was wondering the same thing, both about Aylmer and about Kreisler. This information that he had been to see Aylmer was most disquieting.
He was further disturbed when he saw Ian Hathaway, ostensibly to ask if there had been any progress with the falsified figures, but also to see if he could learn anything more about either Mr. or Mrs. Thorne and their possible connection with Susannah or with Arthur Desmond.
Hathaway looked puzzled. He sat in his quiet, discreet office with its slightly faded good taste and solidity.
“No, Superintendent. That is what is so very curious, and, I admit, beyond me to understand. I would have called you this afternoon had you not come here to see me. We do have information from the German Embassy….”
Pitt drew in his breath involuntarily, his heart beating a little faster, in spite of his effort to remain perfectly composed.
Hathaway saw it and smiled, his small, clear blue eyes steady.
“The message includes figures quite specifically, and this is what is incomprehensible. They are not any of those which I distributed, nor are they the genuine figures which I retained and passed to Lord Salisbury.”
“What?” Pitt could scarcely believe what he had heard. It made no sense whatever. “I beg your pardon?”
“Precisely,” Hathaway agreed. “I can see no sense in it at all. That is why I delayed contacting you.” He sat motionless. Even his hands on the desk were quite still. “I made doubly sure that I had received the message correctly. It was my first thought that somehow figures had been transposed or misunderstood; but it was not so. The message was clear and correct, the figures are quite different, and indeed if acted upon, seriously misleading. I have no desire whatever to disabuse the German Embassy of its error. I am also, at this stage, at a loss to understand what has happened. I did take the liberty of informing Lord Salisbury of the matter, to be sure he had the correct figures himself. I need hardly say that he has.”
Pitt sat in silence, digesting what Hathaway had told him and trying to think of some explanation. None came to his mind.
“We have failed, Superintendent, and I confess to total confusion,” Hathaway said ruefully, leaning back in his chair again and regarding Pitt steadily. “I am perfectly prepared to try again, if you think there is any purpose to it?”
Pitt was more disappointed than he cared to admit. He had been counting on this producing some result, however small or difficult to follow. He had no idea where to turn next, and he dreaded confessing to Farnsworth that what had seemed such an excellent plan had failed so completely. He could already imagine his response, and the contempt with which it would be delivered.
“About the death of Mrs. Chancellor,” Hathaway said quietly. “I fear I can be of little help there either. I wish I knew something of service to you. It seems such a pointless tragedy.” He looked totally sincere, a decent man expressing a profoundly felt regret for grief, and yet Pitt also sensed in him a reasoning in his brain that superseded emotion. Was he distinguishing between pointless tragedies and those which were necessary, and had meaning?
“Did she ever mention Sir Arthur Desmond to you, Mr. Hathaway?” Pitt asked.
Not a flicker crossed Hathaway’s face.
“Sir Arthur Desmond?” he repeated.
“Yes. He used to be at the Foreign Office. He died recently at his club.”
“Yes, yes I know who you mean.” He relaxed so slightly it was barely noticeable, a mere shift of the muscles in his shoulders. “Most unfortunate. I suppose such things tend to happen from time to time, when a club’s membership