Midnight at Marble Arch - By Anne Perry Page 0,136

Mrs. Quixwood, for no reason at all, and then leaving her alive to testify against him?”

The ghost of a smile lit the judge’s face for an instant, then vanished again. “Mr. Bower, Mr. Symington seems to have made a distinct point. If no one else would do such a thing, then why do you wish us to suppose that Mr. Hythe would?”

“Because he was having an affair with Mrs. Quixwood, my lord,” Bower said between his teeth. “And she refused him. It was not a natural thing to do, but men in the throes of passion and rejection do not always behave naturally. The suggestion that she was raped to silence her evidence would be presuming a totally cold and rational crime.”

“Mr. Symington?” the judge inquired. “What do you say to that?”

Symington hid his chagrin well, but Vespasia saw it, and knew that at least one or two of the jurors would also.

“Mr. Hythe was not having an affair with Mrs. Quixwood, my lord,” Symington said. “They met always in public places and no witness whatever has been called to testify to any behavior that would not be perfectly in keeping with simple friendship. If there were such witnesses, I’m sure Mr. Bower would have produced them, with pleasure.”

At that moment there was a slight stir in the gallery. Vespasia half turned in her seat to see Victor Narraway walk down the center aisle and stop at Symington’s table. He handed him a folded piece of paper, then moved back again to find a seat wherever anyone would make room for him.

Bower ignored the interruption and looked back again at Hythe.

“Mr. Hythe, do you seriously expect the Court, the jury of sensible men of business and professions themselves, to believe that some man, like themselves, unfortunately invested money in an African venture that went wrong—possibly about which he was badly advised—and that this man knew that an outwardly respectable, pretty young married woman had unearthed evidence that would be embarrassing to him? Then instead of stealing the evidence, or seeking to keep it confidential in some normal way, he went to her home, raped and beat her, but left her living? And all this was in order to hide his embarrassment at an unfortunate business venture? One in which, I might add, he is hardly alone? Sir, you strain credulity to the point of madness!”

Vespasia felt the wave of despair wash over her until she was drowning in it. Only minutes ago they had been winning—now, suddenly, it could be over.

Bower made an elaborate gesture of invitation to Symington, who was already on his feet.

Symington had no papers in his hands this time. He walked over to the stand and looked up at Hythe.

“That does sound rather absurd, doesn’t it, Mr. Hythe?” he said, his charming smile back again. “Some stranger choosing such a course would have been an idiot. How could it possibly have succeeded? Why rape? That is an act of hate, of contempt, of overwhelming rage against women, but hardly one designed to rescue a financial reputation in trouble.”

He looked at the jury. “But, gentlemen, that is what my learned friend suggested to you, not what I suggest. Imagine instead, if you will, an old hatred, centered on two men and one beautiful and willful woman, the wife of one of these men, and the mistress of the other. It is a story of high passion and hatred, the oldest jealousy in the world. It is woven out of the very fabric of human nature. Is this believable?”

“My lord!” Bower protested eagerly.

The judge held up his hand to silence Bower. “Mr. Symington, I presume you have some evidence for this? We are not off on a fairy story, are we?”

“No, my lord. I will call Lord Narraway to the stand to testify, if necessary. I am hoping to save the Court’s time by asking Mr. Hythe himself. I am sure if we can reach a conclusion this afternoon, the Court would be better served.”

“Get on with it, then,” the judge directed. “Is Lord Narraway in court, should we require him? I presume we are speaking of Victor Narraway, who used to be head of Special Branch, until recently? I do not know him by sight.”

“Yes, my lord, we are. And he is present in court. It was he who just passed me the information I now wish to offer.”

“Proceed.”

Symington thanked him and looked again at Hythe.

“To continue our story, Mr. Hythe. This beautiful woman was violently beaten