Grudgingly, Waterlow agreed. ‘But it’s not the sort of thing you expect from the daughter of a mayor of Hampstead,’ he went on. ‘If a well-bred woman has a secret, nine times out of ten it’s a lover. You have to have a theory to work on, don’t you? The walks she took in the Botanic Gardens interested me. I would have put my money on some sort of assignation among the rhododendrons. As a matter of fact, I had practically convinced myself it was young Allingham, the solicitor. He is more of her own generation than her husband. Did you know that she is sixteen years younger than Cromer? Allingham’s connection with the family goes back a few years, I gather. He was in the social set they moved in before the marriage. He is the only one they have kept up with, I suppose because of the professional connection. It still seemed to me-and, I think, the housekeeper, who is a shrewd woman-that Mr Simon Allingham was taking a closer interest in Miriam Cromer than you would expect from the family solicitor. There was nothing you could describe as flagrant, simply looks that passed between them and the way he put his hand on her arm to prevent her answering my questions.’ He shrugged. ‘I have to admit to a slight misjudgment there. As I say, the real reason for the blackmail took me by surprise.’ Having admitted his fallibility, Waterlow absolved himself. ‘That’s of no importance. I’m sure we would have secured a conviction on the evidence we had. The prosecution didn’t need to go into the details of the blackmail. In fact, it could have been detrimental to the case to dwell on the business. All in all, I believe I was entitled to expect a commendation in court for the work I did.’
Cribb was near the limit of his tolerance, but he still had one crucial question to put. ‘As a matter of interest, what sort of person is Miriam Cromer?’
Waterlow blinked, jogged out of his train of thought. ‘You seem to be taking this job seriously, Cribb. I thought it was statistics you came to ask me about.’
With an effort to be amiable, Cribb said, ‘You’ve got me interested in the case, I can’t deny it, sir. Miriam Cromer makes a fascinating study. A woman who will kill is a rare one.’
‘Rare-my word, yes.’ Inspector Waterlow perched himself on the edge of his desk and took the cat into his lap, stroking it as he talked. ‘Exquisitely good-looking. Entirely in command. Questions wouldn’t shake her. Look how she stood up in court and faced old Colbeck when he sentenced her to death. I tell you, he was paler than she was. An astonishing woman by any reckoning. To be candid, I have a secret hope that the Home Secretary will commute the sentence to penal servitude for life. Miriam Cromer is altogether too remarkable to consign to the hangman’s rope. There’s a world of difference between a woman like her and that creature in Richmond a year or two ago who murdered her employer and boiled her body in the copper.’
‘Kate Webster? No comparison, sir.’
‘You know, I’m still unable to understand what induced Miriam Cromer to confess. The case I put together was overwhelming, I admit, but a decent counsel, Sir Charles Russell, for instance-the family could afford him, for God’s sake-might have raised points that would have helped towards a reprieve. As it stands, there’s simply her confession. I can’t believe the prospect of a long trial unnerved her. Whatever she is, she is no coward.’
‘Possibly she reckoned it would save her from the gallows,’ Cribb suggested. ‘A frank admission of guilt is something in a prisoner’s favour.’
‘Not in the eyes of the law. The details of the crime in her own words are very damning. It was not an impulsive crime. She planned it. There’s little doubt she would have got away with it if the cyanide had killed the victim instantaneously, as she expected. She could have let herself into the studio when she got back to the house and calmly emptied that decanter and refilled it with fresh madeira. To make quite sure, she could have placed the cyanide bottle beside the corpse. There’s no denying it was done in cold blood, Cribb. The judge made that clear when he sentenced her. Having met her, I believe I understand how she planned it and carried it through. If you ask me what sets her apart from other women, it’s an absence of pity. She is so damned self-possessed that she can’t imagine how other people feel. In all the interviews I had with her, she never expressed a syllable of sympathy for her victim. I’d lay all the money I own that even in the death cell she isn’t wasting a thought on Perceval.’
‘From all accounts, he isn’t worth it,’ said Cribb. ‘She sounds a lot more interesting than her victim. Like you, sir, I find it difficult to understand why a woman of her character should have confessed. Did she make the confession to you?’
‘No, it was done while she was awaiting trial in Newgate. She drew it up with the solicitor, Allingham, and then arrangements were made for her to swear an affidavit before a magistrate. Everyone was taken by surprise. Cheated, you could say. This had every promise of being one of the classic trials of the century.’
Cribb thought, with Inspector Waterlow of V Division as principal witness for the prosecution. ‘Yes, sir, it must have been a facer after all the work you put in. To see it written down in a confession, all that evidence you spent weeks patiently uncovering. Cruel.’ He solemnly shook his head. Then he said more brightly, ‘I expect it wasn’t wasted. You still had to check that the confession was true.’
‘That wasn’t difficult,’ said Waterlow. ‘The evidence confirmed everything she said. You couldn’t fault it.’
‘I’m sure.’ Cribb paused, about to venture into a sensitive area. ‘You said just now that the reason for the blackmail took you by surprise.’
‘The indecent pictures? That’s true.’
‘Did you by any chance turn up any of these pictures when you looked through Perceval’s possessions, sir?’
Waterlow gave a sly grin. ‘Care to see one, then? No, Cribb, I didn’t. He sold her the ones he had, and she destroyed them. If you recall, she said in the confession he was offering to buy the plates.?150, wasn’t it?’
‘So there were no pictures or plates in Perceval’s lodgings?’
‘I told you, no. It isn’t important,’ added Waterlow. ‘The details of the blackmail are immaterial. The fact that blackmail took place is admitted, and there is plenty of proof. From the moment I walked into the pawnbroker’s in Brentford we had Miriam Cromer on toast.’
‘No wonder she confessed,’ said Cribb, content to resume the adulation now that the point was clear.
‘I was sorry when it came to an end,’ said Waterlow. ‘I don’t often get challenges here in Kew, but I’m capable of meeting them. Tell them that at Scotland Yard if you like. While they collect statistics, we in the divisions are out on the streets coping with crime from hour to hour.’
When Cribb got up to go, Inspector Waterlow took his place in the armchair. Justifiably, Cribb reflected when he got outside. The streets of Kew were as deserted as when he had arrived.
SATURDAY, 16th JUNE
‘I represent Mrs Miriam Cromer. My name is Allingham.’
The governor put down his pen to look at the solicitor. Twenty-seven, no more, he guessed. Well turned out, in a light grey suit and purple waistcoat with matching cravat. Black boots and gaiter with white buttons. Hat and valise in hand. Straw-coloured hair, parted and brushed close to the head. An intelligent face, blue-eyed, clean-shaven, distinctly hostile in expression.
‘Won’t you sit down, Mr Allingham? There is nothing untoward, I hope?’
‘I have come from visiting Mrs Cromer.’
‘You found her well?’
‘Considering the circumstances, yes.’
‘Our observation is that she is well in control of herself, Mr Allingham. She appears to have an inner strength that belies her somewhat frail physique.’
‘Governor, I wish to protest at the visiting facilities. It is quite impossible to conduct a conversation through an iron grille with two prison officers at my client’s shoulder.’