Anne Perry - Rutland Place

"You don't need to belabor the point," Charlotte interrupted her angrily. "I understand you perfectly. I have met spoiled people too! And I have not forgotten how everyone twittered over Monsieur Alaric. He had only to show up and half the women in the Walk made fools of themselves!"

Emily gave her a dry look, her own memories less than entirely comfortable.

"Then you had better put on your best dress, and we shall go and call on Mama right away," she said briskly. "Before she goes out, or receives anyone else. We can hardly say what we have to unless we are alone."

Caroline received them with surprise and delight.

"My dears, how marvelous! Do come in and sit down. How wonderful to see you both!" She was dressed in the softest lavender-pink dress, high to the throat, with a fichu of lace falling gently. At any other time Charlotte would have envied her it; a gown like that would have suited her wonderfully and, far more important than the mere look of it, would have made her feel beautiful. Now all she could think of was how flushed Caroline was, how gaiety and even excitement bubbled just beneath the surface.

She glanced across at Emily and saw the chill of shock in her eyes.

"Emily, do sit over here where I can see you," Caroline said cheerfully. "You haven't been here for ages-at least it seems like ages. It is far too early for tea, and I suppose you have had luncheon already?"

"Onion soup," Emily said with a little wrinkle of her nose.

Caroline's face fell. "Oh, my dear! Whatever for?"

Emily reached for her bag, opened it, and took out her perfume. She touched herself liberally with it and then offered it to Charlotte.

"Mama, Charlotte tells me you have had some tragic happen shy;ings here lately," she began, ignoring the question of the soup. "I'm so sorry. I wish you had written me. I would like to have been here to offer some comfort to you."

Considering how radiant Caroline looked, the remark seemed somewhat misplaced. Charlotte had never seen anyone less distressed.

Caroline recollected herself rapidly. "Oh yes, Mina Spencer- Brown. Very sad indeed-in fact, quite tragic. I cannot think what drove her to it. I wish I had been able to help. I feel awfully guilty, but I had no idea at all there was anything wrong."

Charlotte was conscious of the minutes ticking away, mindful that early callers might come at any time after three.

"She didn't kill herself," she said brutally. "She was murdered."

There was total silence. The light died from Caroline's face, and her body hunched into itself; suddenly she looked thinner.

"Murdered?" She repeated the word. "How could you know? Are you trying to frighten me, Charlotte?"

It was precisely what she was trying to do, but to admit it would rob at least half its effect.

"Thomas told me, of course," she answered. "She died of belladonna poisoning, but the dose was far more than there had been in the house. It must have come from somewhere outside, No one else would give her poison for her to kill herself, so it can only have been murder, can't it?"

"I don't understand." Caroline shook her head. "Why should anyone kill Mina? She did no harm to anyone. She didn't have any money to leave, nor was she in line to inherit anything, so far as I know." There was confusion in her face. "It doesn't make any sense. Alston is the last sort of man to-to be having an affaire with another woman and wish to- No, it's ridiculous!" Her voice regained its conviction and she looked up. "Thomas must have made a mistake-there is another explanation. We simply have not found it yet." She sat a little straighter in her chair. "She must have brought it from somewhere. I'm sure if he looks-"

"Thomas is an excellent policeman and he does not make mistakes," Emily said, to Charlotte's amazement. It was a very sweeping statement, and less than true, but Emily continued regardless: "He will have thought of all those things. If he says it is murder, then it is! We had best face it, and conduct ourselves accordingly." She opened her eyes wide and stared at Caroline, then shifted them a little, unable to look at her and deal the final blow. "And of course that means police all over the place, investigating everything and everyone! There won't be any secrets left in the entire neighborhood."

Caroline did not immediately understand. She saw the unpleas shy;antness of it; indeed she could hardly have forgotten Cater Street, and she saw the dangers to those closely involved with Mina, but not her own peril.

Emily sat back, her face tight with pity, feeling a sense of guilt because she did not intend to be the one hurt.

"Mama," she said slowly, "Charlotte says you have lost a pendant, and that it is of such a nature that you would prefer, if you were not the one to find it, that it was not found at all. This is a time when the utmost discretion is necessary. Even quite innocent acts can look very odd if they become public and everyone in Society begins to discuss them. Stories frequently grow in the telling, you know."

They always grow in the telling, Charlotte thought miserably, and almost without exception for the worse-unless, of course, one is telling them oneself! She wondered now if she Tiad done the right thing in bringing Emily here. She might have said the same things herself, but sitting and looking on, listening, it sounded so much harsher than she would have wished. Indeed it had a ring of selfishness to it, as if it were Emily's reputation that was the first fear and Charlotte were merely self-righteous and inquisitive, carried away with her own imagination of herself as a detective.

They had not been very subtle.

She looked across at Emily and saw the pink in her skin, warm even up to her eyes, and she knew that Emily was sud shy;denly conscious of it too.

Charlotte leaned forward and clasped Caroline's hands. They were stiff, and she made no effort to respond.

"Mama!" Charlotte said. "We must find out all we can about Mina's death, so that the investigation can be over with before there is time for Thomas, or anyone else, to start thinking about other people's lives! She must have been killed for some reason- either love or hate, jealousy, greed-something!" She let out her breath in a sharp little noise. "Or most probably fear. Mina was clever, you said that. She was worldly wise, she observed a lot. Maybe she knew something about somebody that was worth killing to hide. There is a thief here, that is inescapable. Perhaps Mina knew who the thief was and was foolish enough to let the person see that she knew. Or maybe she was the thief herself and stole something someone would kill to retrieve."

Emily rushed in, glad to have something practical to say to overlay the emotions. "For goodness' sake, hasn't Thomas searched the house? He should have thought of that! It's simple enough!"

"Of course he has!" Charlotte snapped, then realized how her voice sounded. She did not need to defend Thomas; Emily thought well enough of him and, in her own way, liked him considerably. "They didn't find anything," she continued. "At least not anything they could understand to be important. But if we ask questions and investigate a little, we may perceive things that they could not. People are not going to tell the police more than they can help, are they?"

"Of course not!" Emily said eagerly. "But they wiH talk to us! And we can hear things Thomas would not-inflections, lies-because we know the people. That's quite definitely what we must do! Mama, we shall come calling with you this afternoon, immediately! Where shall we begin?"

Caroline smiled bleakly. There was no point in fighting.

"With Alston Spencer-Brown," Charlotte replied for her. "We shall express our deepest sympathy and shock. It would be quite appropriate. We will be overcome with the tragedy and not able to think of anything else."