Anne Perry: Southampton Row

There was panic in Voisey’s eyes; his breath was ragged, beyond his control.

“It seems probable,” Pitt said, “that someone who trusted Mrs. Cavendish implicitly enlisted her help with the express purpose of killing Wray in a manner that would look like suicide, regardless of what it might cost her!” He moved his hand very slightly, dismissing the subject. “The reason doesn’t matter. . let us say it was a complicated scheme of personal revenge. That is as good a story as any.”

Voisey opened his mouth to speak, then gulped air and closed it again.

“We have the coroner’s report,” Pitt continued. “And Mary Ann Smith’s testimony signed and witnessed, and there will be photographs of both kept in separate and extremely safe places, to be made public should anything unpleasant happen to me, or to any member of my family-or, of course, to Mr. Narraway.”

Voisey stared at him, his skin pasty white. “I’m sure. .” he said between dry lips. “I’m sure nothing will happen to them.”

“Good,” Pitt said with intense feeling. “Very good.” And he stood back for Voisey to pass, unsteadily, ashen-faced, on his way.