It did not answer the question as to whether the bright and observant Kitty Ryder had been aware of it. If so, then it had to have been deduction. There was no way in which she could be in an appropriate place to have observed such a thing.
Deduced from what? What could she have seen or heard … or overheard? A conversation on the telephone, perhaps? A letter left open? A coachman’s gossip?
Was she really so quick, so very acute a judge? Was Kynaston so desperate, and so callous as to beat a maid to death for her knowledge of his affair? He was embarrassed that Pitt had deduced it, but Pitt had seen no rage in him, not the slightest suggestion of violence of any sort, physical or political. He had not threatened Pitt’s job or his position.
Was it necessary to report this to Edom Talbot?
He had reached the main road and found a hansom. He was sitting in it bowling along at a good speed by the time he reached the conclusion that it was, but he was still undecided exactly what he would say.
He was still collecting his evidence next day when a message came to his office requiring him to report immediately to Downing Street. It had to be Talbot, but how could he know what Pitt had learned the previous evening already? Surely that was impossible? Unless Kynaston had gone there ahead of Pitt, in order to — what? Complain? Deny the charge? Confess privately to Talbot who his mistress was, instead of to a mere policeman? Did he have far more influence in Government than Pitt had imagined?
Pitt had no choice but to obey. He put the papers in a small case so that, if Talbot demanded it, he could prove his assertion. Then he went out into the street to catch a hansom.
He sat all the way through the traffic, turning over in his mind how much he would tell Talbot. He would be finished if he were caught in a lie, but he might get away with an omission.
Why was he even thinking of concealing the truth from Talbot?
Because he did not believe that Kynaston had murdered Kitty Ryder to keep the secret of an affair. It was too extreme for a man who appeared to be neither violent nor particularly arrogant. Nothing Pitt had learned of him suggested either. And he had learned a considerable amount. Kynaston was proud of his family heritage. He had mourned the loss of his brother, Bennett, deeply; in fact the grief was still there in him, masked beneath the surface. To all outward appearances he had been a good father and a dutiful husband, if not a passionate one.
Certainly he liked a few luxuries in his dress and in his dining, but even with his favourite wines — of which there were several — Stoker had found no one who had seen him seriously inebriated, and never in any circumstances aggressive.
His passion and imagination seem to have gone into his work. Thomas Pitt knew that only from the high esteem in which he was held by the senior naval officers who were involved with his inventions. Pitt had not heard this from them himself. It had been passed on to him by the appropriate authorities. Could that be an omission he needed to rectify? Underwater ships firing explosive missiles, invisible from the surface, might well be the warfare of the future. Britain was behind in the race, and — as an island — peculiarly vulnerable. She had no land borders with any other country across which to import food, raw materials, munitions, or any kind of help.
He arrived at Downing Street unusually nervous. The palms of his hands were sweating even in the cold, and he took his gloves off. Better to be dry, if numb.
He walked to the step and was let in almost immediately. There was always a policeman on duty and he was recognised without having to state his name.
Inside, he was shown immediately to the room in which he had met Talbot before. Talbot was waiting for him, pacing the floor. He swung around angrily as soon as Pitt came in and started to speak before the footman had closed the door, leaving them alone.
‘What the devil are you playing at?’ Talbot demanded. ‘I would prefer to think you’re incompetent rather than deliberately attempting to deceive Her Majesty’s Government. Did you not understand my distinct command that you report to me — here — any further development in the Kynaston case? What is it in that which is unclear to you?’ His cheeks were red, his nose pinched at the nostrils and his jaw tight. He glared at Pitt as if his fury were slipping out of his control.
‘I was checking some of the evidence before I reported it to you,’ Pitt replied. Damn! That sounded so feeble, so obviously an excuse, and yet it was the truth. ‘I wished to-’ he began again.
‘You wished to evade the issue!’ Talbot said furiously. ‘What about this bloody hat you found in the gravel pit?’
‘It’s not bloody,’ Pitt corrected him.
‘God damn it, man! Don’t you dare tell me when to swear and when not to! Who the hell do you think you are, you jumped-up-’
‘There is no blood on the hat … sir,’ Pitt said between his teeth.
Talbot stared at him. ‘What the hell are you talking about?’
‘There was no blood on the hat,’ Pitt repeated.
‘That is totally irrelevant. Was it the maid’s hat or not?’ Talbot said slowly between his teeth, as if Pitt were simple.
‘I don’t know,’ Pitt replied. ‘But that is also irrelevant to Kynaston, unless we can prove that he had some illicit relationship with her, or that she knew of something else he was doing about which she threatened him.’
‘And you have done! The man is having an affair! But you did not think it necessary to report that fact to me, as I commanded you to?’ Talbot said grimly. ‘I wonder if you would care to explain that? I rather think we are back to the beginning again.’ His voice grated, full of ragged edges. ‘Are you so arrogant that you think you can take decisions on this matter without reference to your superiors, or have you some reason of your own for protecting Kynaston from the truth? Just how well do you know him? You force me to ask.’
Pitt felt the heat rise up his face. Any answer he could give was going to sound like an excuse. And yet if he had come to Talbot earlier, before he was certain of Kynaston’s affair, he would have been equally to blame for maligning an important man in the Government’s plans for naval defence, not to mention the moral and civil wrong of false accusation. It would have brought Special Branch into disrepute and made its future work harder. It might even have earned Pitt’s own removal from leadership.
A sudden horrible thought flashed into his mind that this was the purpose of Talbot’s rage. This was an excellent platform on which to build the means of getting rid of Pitt altogether. He drew in his breath to frame some kind of a reply just as the door opened and Somerset Carlisle came in, closing it quietly behind him. He was older than when they had first met, but the remarkable arched brows and the quirky humour were still there in his face. It was only the deepening of the lines that changed him, made one aware that it was over a decade later.
‘Ah! Pitt,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Delighted to find you here.’
‘You are interrupting a private conversation-’ Talbot snarled at him.
‘Yes, of course I am,’ Carlisle cut across the rest of his remark. ‘Just wanted to tell Pitt that I found the piece of information he was looking for.’ He smiled at Pitt, gazing straight into his eyes. ‘You were quite right, of course. The hat was no more Kitty Ryder’s than it was mine! Some damn fool was wanting to distract attention from his own rather stupid mistakes … drinks locally now and then, so he knew about the poor woman’s disappearance, and the body you found in the gravel pit, of course.’
Talbot tried to interrupt but Carlisle carried on without taking the slightest notice of him.
‘Knew she’d had a hat like that, poor girl, and bought one the same. Put a red feather in it.’ He smiled even more widely and reached his hand into his pocket. He pulled out a rather crumpled piece of paper. ‘Got the receipt. You’ll see it’s dated for the day before your informant found it.’