“Thank you.” Quixwood gave the ghost of a smile. “I’m sure he will help you if he can.”
Narraway felt a chill. Was it possible this was the answer? He did not want to believe Catherine might’ve been having an affair. He could understand her loneliness. Everything he had learned about her indicated a woman unfulfilled in her life, desperately seeking something more. He had thought it was purpose she was looking for, to exercise her intelligence. But maybe it was simply a love more immediate to her nature than that offered by her husband.
He rose to his feet. “Thank you. I had better go and visit this man Hythe, and see what I can learn.”
HE ARRIVED AT HYTHE’S address in a very nice part of Holborn just before seven. It was not really a courteous hour to call—people would be preparing for dinner, or to go out for the evening—but he was not willing to wait another day. Added to which, if he was honest, he was concerned enough about the part Hythe might have played in Catherine’s death that he had no concern whatsoever for the man’s convenience.
Narraway was admitted by a parlormaid and had only moments to wait before Hythe himself appeared, looking startled but not worried. He was a handsome man, probably in his late thirties, tall and slender, his brownish hair streaked fair where already the summer sun had bleached it.
“Lord Narraway?” he said questioningly, closing the door of the parlor behind him. The house was charming but modest and had no separate morning room for visitors.
“I am sorry to disturb you so late,” Narraway apologized blandly. “In fact for calling upon you unannounced at all. If the matter were not so serious I would have made an appointment in the usual way.”
Hythe frowned, indicating Narraway should be seated. “Is it something at the Treasury?”
Narraway sat, and Hythe lowered himself into the chair opposite.
“No,” Narraway replied. “As far as I am aware there is nothing amiss at the Treasury. This concerns the recent death of Mrs. Catherine Quixwood.”
He saw the anxiety in Hythe’s face change to deep grief, a look so genuine it was hard to disbelieve it. But he had known people before whose loyalties had been so violently torn apart that they could kill and weep for the victim at the same time.
“How can I possibly help?” Hythe seemed genuinely confused. “For heaven’s sake, if I knew anything at all, I would already have contacted the police.” He frowned. “Who are you? Clearly you are not a policeman.”
“Until recently I was head of Special Branch,” Narraway replied, caught slightly off guard by the question. He had not expected to have to explain himself except casually, and in his own way. “Mr. Quixwood asked me to help him as much as I am able, both to close the matter as quickly as possible and to keep it as discreet as circumstances allow.”
“And the police?” Hythe said with some anxiety. “Is there need to be concerned as to their … clumsiness?”
Narraway smiled bleakly. He found Hythe agreeable. It was easy to see how Catherine Quixwood could have liked him also, even though he was perhaps a decade younger than she.
“Actually, I think Inspector Knox is both capable and discreet, but the situation is not easy to deal with,” he answered.
“How can I help?” Hythe appeared still to have no idea how he was involved. “Both my wife and I were very fond of Mrs. Quixwood, but I have no idea what I could do to be of assistance.”
“She was killed by someone she knew well enough to let into the house, quite late in the evening, and was comfortable enough with to not send for one of the servants to be present,” Narraway answered. He saw the surprise in Hythe’s face, and a degree of apprehension, perhaps even alarm. Was it because he was guilty, and had he not expected anyone to deduce so much?
“I see from Mrs. Quixwood’s diary that she went to many interesting events,” Narraway went on. “Lectures, displays at the British Museum, concerts, and the theater, many of which Mr. Quixwood was unable to attend. He tells me that these were events that also interested you, and that you might be able to tell me a little of others she would have become acquainted with.” Narraway shrugged slightly. “It is unpleasant to have to question her friends in such a way, but we are trying to uncover the entire truth