Anne Perry - Midnight at Marble Arch

Charlotte sat back, her gut twisting. “Can there be proof, then, that Hythe found any financial information for Catherine regarding investment in the British South Africa Company that would implicate Quixwood?” she asked.

“No,” Symington answered miserably. “Most of his access to such records was probably illegal anyway, and even if we could prove it, there is nothing to say he obtained it for her. She seems to have kept no record of the information.”

“That seems so peculiar,” Vespasia interjected. “Why go through all the trouble to get the information if she wasn’t going to document and use it somehow?” She turned to Symington. “And suppose what she found out was that Quixwood was ruining Pelham Forsbrook. Why would she care? Why would it matter enough to have one of them silence her in this brutal way?”

“Do we know that Quixwood was definitely trying to ruin Forsbrook for certain?” Symington asked.

“No. We need to know if Quixwood advised Forsbrook to invest, and then failed to warn him of the possible failure and consequent cost of the Jameson Raid,” Vespasia answered. “And we have no time for that.”

Symington turned to Charlotte. “Is there any way Commander Pitt could obtain, if not information on the major investors, then at least word-of-mouth reports? It would do in a pinch. Quixwood won’t know that I’m guessing.”

Charlotte stood up. “I’ll telephone Mr. Stoker again,” she replied. “It is worth trying, at least.”

She was back five minutes later. “I spoke to Mr. Stoker; he is going to look into it. I have no idea whether it will help or not. He will come here this evening with whatever he can find.”

“So suppose Forsbrook and Quixwood both invested in Africa, only Quixwood withdrew his money in time, but did not warn Forsbrook to do the same.” Vespasia picked up their conversation.

“He might’ve warned him, and Forsbrook might not have listened,” Symington said.

Charlotte nodded her head in agreement. “Either way, that leads us to the Jameson Raid at the very end of last year, which has just now come to trial, and because Jameson is likely to be found guilty, the British South Africa Company will have to pay a fortune in damages to the Boers in the Transvaal. Some investors are going to be very badly damaged.”

“Which, according to our suppositions, was of great concern to Catherine Quixwood,” Vespasia remarked.

Symington sat up straighter. “But why? We have all these theories, but no real reason for Catherine to act as she did.”

Charlotte was struggling to make sense of it. “Could she have been a friend of Eleanor Forsbrook’s? Or of Pelham Forsbrook’s?”

“Has anyone investigated to find out?” Symington asked.

“Victor might know something,” Vespasia said. “At the very least, he has learned enough about Catherine to have an informed opinion.”

Symington studied the table for a few moments, then looked up again. “Anyway, Quixwood could claim that he advised Forsbrook to sell, and Forsbrook didn’t take the advice. No one could prove otherwise. Quixwood might even have a letter to that effect. I would, if I were doing such a thing. I would say that I begged Forsbrook not to invest, and he was greedy and ignored me. That’s quite believable. London is full of people who think Jameson is a hero.”

“And without proof for at least one of these theories, or at least witnesses, we are merely slandering a man who already has the total sympathy and support of the Court, not to mention the jury.” Vespasia’s shoulders slumped slightly.

They were interrupted by Jemima and Daniel, just home from school. Both were greeted, and then politely but firmly dismissed to their own rooms. Charlotte rose from the table and went into the scullery to consult with Minnie Maude as to what they might serve for dinner, with at least three prospective guests. Vespasia and Symington returned to the parlor to wait for Pitt and Narraway, their discussion having come to a standstill.

A full hour later Narraway arrived, and within a few minutes Pitt came in also, in answer to Stoker’s summons. Stoker himself was a step behind. They all looked weary and defeated, though each tried in his own way not to show it.

Pitt looked at Symington after no more than a glance at Charlotte, a meeting of the eyes, and then away again for an instant to Vespasia, as an acknowledgment.

“It went badly,” he concluded.

Symington made a slight gesture with his hands. “We’ve still got tomorrow,” he replied. “I have no way of stretching it any further than that, because although we have lots of ideas-we might even have the answer-we have no proof. We haven’t even a witness to call that we can tie up in contradiction, or to raise doubts.”

“Did you find out anything?” Charlotte asked Pitt, trying not to invest her voice with too much hope.

“I spoke to the surgeon who examined Mrs. Forsbrook’s body after her accident,” he replied. “He said there were old bruises, even a fractured rib that had healed, but it doesn’t prove anything.”

“It seems it could be true that Pelham Forsbrook beat her,” Charlotte said quickly.

“Or not,” he replied ruefully. “It could have been an earlier accident: riding, or even falling downstairs.”

“Maybe.” She would not give up. “We have been wondering … what if Quixwood deliberately advised Forsbrook to invest in the British South Africa Company, specifically the Jameson Raid, knowing it would fail, thus causing his ruin?” she suggested.

“Why?” Pitt asked reasonably.

“We don’t know,” she answered, frustrated. “Perhaps because of Eleanor, if he was her lover? Catherine seems to have been very involved. The whole crime centers on her after all. If Hythe is telling the truth, then he was looking for proof of that for her-”

“Again,” Pitt interrupted, “why? Why would she care if Forsbrook was ruined?”

Symington blinked and frowned. “Maybe that was the affair? Pelham Forsbrook and Catherine, not Hythe at all.”

Everyone turned to stare at him.

“Then who raped her?” Narraway asked. “It is difficult to believe Neville Forsbrook did it, in that case, isn’t it?”

“Pelham Forsbrook maybe?” Charlotte replied, seizing the idea. “If he did beat Eleanor, he’s a violent man. And she was supposedly running away from him when she was killed.” She looked to Pitt.

“Yes,” he agreed quickly. He turned to Narraway. “Was Pelham still at the Spanish Embassy when Catherine was raped?”

Narraway thought for a moment. “I saw Neville leave quite a while before ten. I think Pelham went around the same time. It would just have been possible. He would have known Quixwood was still there, and likely to remain at least another hour or more.”

“How do we suggest that?” Symington asked, returning to the practical. “I’ve tried everything, but I can’t persuade Hythe to admit that he was doing financial investigation for Catherine, even though it might offer the only defense he has.”

Vespasia spoke for the first time in several minutes. “Realistically, Mr. Symington, what chance has that defense of succeeding, even in raising a doubt?”

He sighed. “Very little,” he confessed.

“Then if Hythe’s greatest concern is to keep someone safe, so he can provide care for his wife, dare he take the chance of trying what we are suggesting?”

“I wouldn’t. Not if I loved my wife enough,” Symington said.

Now Pitt was frowning. “Are we saying that Quixwood would look after Maris Hythe to keep Alban silent about his financial deceit, and in the process save Pelham Forsbrook, the man he hates enough to ruin, and who raped his wife? You can’t convince me of that.”