lie to protect the bishop’s interest. He cared for duty to truth, to the law, to Unity Bellwood. But there was no good to Unity served by exposing her tragedy, or Ramsay Parmenter’s.
“Thomas …?” Dominic’s voice was urgent, uncertain.
“Yes,” Pitt replied. “I don’t know yet. How did he do it?”
“Do it?” For a moment Dominic sounded confused. “Oh … he—Thomas, he didn’t kill himself! He attacked Vita—Mrs. Parmenter. He had some sort of … I don’t know … brainstorm. He lost control of himself and tried to strangle her. She defended herself with a paper knife which was on the desk—it happened in his study—and in the struggle it slipped … and stabbed him. I’m afraid it was fatal.”
“What?” Pitt was astounded. “You mean—Dominic, I can’t cover that up!”
“I’m not asking you to!” Dominic was amazed. “Just come here before we have to call in the local constable … please!”
“Yes—of course. I’ll come right away. Hold on.” Without realizing what he had said, he put the earpiece back on its hook, missing it the first time because his hands were shaking. He walked back into the parlor.
“What is it?” Charlotte said immediately. “What’s happened?” Her voice rose sharply with fear, and she was already getting to her feet.
“No.” He shook his head. “It’s all right. It’s Parmenter. It was Dominic on the telephone. Parmenter tried to kill his wife, and in the struggle he was killed himself. I have to go there. Will you call the station to send for Tellman to meet me at Brunswick Gardens?”
Charlotte stared at him. “Mrs. Parmenter killed him in a struggle when he was trying to kill her?” Her voice rose to a squeak. “That’s ridiculous! She’s tiny! Well—she’s small. She couldn’t possibly kill him.”
“With a knife,” he explained.
“I don’t care what with. She couldn’t have taken a knife from him if he were trying to kill her with it.”
“He wasn’t. He was trying to strangle her. He must have utterly lost his sanity, poor man. Thank God he didn’t succeed.” He stopped, facing her for a long moment’s silence. “At least this proves Dominic had no guilt in it.”
She smiled at him very slightly. “Yes, there is that,” she agreed. “Now, you had better go, and I’ll get the message to Tellman.”
He hesitated, as if to add something else, but there really was nothing more to say. He turned on his heel and went to the hall, putting his boots on and collecting his coat from its hook, and went out.
When he reached Brunswick Gardens there was already a carriage outside at the curb. The coachman was huddled up under his coat as if he had been there for some time, and lights streamed from the windows of the house below the half-lowered blinds, as if no one had bothered to draw the front curtains.
Pitt alighted, paid the cabby and told him not to wait. Emsley greeted him at the door, his hair wild from where he had run his hands through it, his face so pale it looked gray around the eyes.
“Come in, sir,” he said hoarsely. “The mistress is upstairs lying down, and Mr. Mallory is with her—and the doctor, of course. Miss Tryphena is—is gone to her room, I think. Poor Miss Clarice is trying to take care of everything, and Mr. Corde is upstairs in the study. He told me to send you up, if you’d be so good, sir. I don’t know what everything is coming to … Just a few days ago everything was as usual, and now suddenly— this.” The man looked close to weeping as he thought of the ruin of all he found familiar and precious, the daily life that created his world and was his purpose.
Pitt put his hand on Emsley’s arm and gripped it. “Thank you. Perhaps it would be best if you were to close the door and all the downstairs curtains, then see if you can help Miss Clarice keep the servants calm. They are bound to be deeply distressed, but the house must still be run. People will need to eat, fires be kept going, the place cleaned and tidied. The more people can be busy, the less they will have time to be upset.”
“Oh … yes.” Emsley nodded. “Yes sir. Of course, you are quite right. We don’t want people losing control of themselves, getting hysterical. Helps nobody. I’ll see to it, sir.” And he went off looking purposeful.
Pitt climbed the now-familiar black staircase and went along the