thought of people taking advantage of the event for political manipulation, repulsive as that is. Bring me what we know about Pelham Forsbrook and any interests he might have that connect in any way to Portugal, or Castelbranco personally.” He rose to his feet. “I think I need to know a lot more about this. With the Quixwood case we will—it’s on everyone’s minds—but not this one, poor girl.”
“We’d better try our best to figure it out, sir. We don’t want to be caught looking as if we didn’t care. Someone could dig a real deep hole for us with that.”
“Yes,” Pitt agreed with a shiver. “You’d better see if you can find out who else was at that party I told you Lady Vespasia mentioned. See if you can find a servant who noticed people, things. Some of them do. Claim robbery as a cover. Be careful what you say.”
“Right, sir. Thank heaven the Quixwood case is nothing to do with us,” Stoker said with feeling. “Count it up how you want, it looks as if it had to be a lover. I’m sorry for Quixwood. Not only lost his wife pretty horribly, but the whole world knows she was betraying him. There’s another man you couldn’t blame if he lost his control and killed the bastard … if they find him.”
“If they find him they’ll hang him,” Pitt replied, taking his hat and jacket from the coat stand.
“Even if she took her own life, which is what some people are saying?” Stoker questioned.
“She was a respectable married woman,” Pitt answered, jamming the hat on his head. “Important husband with influence. And she was British.”
Stoker pulled a sour face, but he did not reply.
PITT WENT TO LINCOLN’S Inn Fields to find the man he had been advised was the best and most experienced prosecuting lawyer in cases of rape. He had telephoned in advance to make an appointment, using his position as leverage to force himself into the man’s already busy schedule.
Aubrey Delacourt was tall and lean, with a shock of dark brown hair. He had a long face with heavy-lidded eyes, which were surprisingly blue.
“I can spare you about twenty minutes, Commander,” he said, shaking Pitt’s hand briefly, then indicating a chair opposite his desk. His manner was impatient, making it clear he resented being obliged to disrupt his day. “You might be best served by omitting any preamble. I already assume this is important to you, or you would not waste your own time, never mind mine.”
“You are quite right,” Pitt agreed, sitting down and crossing his legs comfortably, as if he refused to be hurried. “I wouldn’t. However, I must start by saying that what I’m about to tell you is in absolute confidence. If you require me to retain your services for that, give me a bill for your time.”
“Not necessary,” Delacourt replied. “You have told me you are the head of Special Branch, and I took the precaution of confirming that for myself. What is the advice you wish?”
Very briefly Pitt summarized his account of the rape and death of Angeles Castelbranco. Before he had finished, Delacourt interrupted him.
“You have no case to bring,” he said bluntly. “I would have expected you to know that.” There was brisk condescension in his tone. “Even if you find the man who raped her, from what you have said you cannot prove it. All you will do is damage the poor girl’s name even more.”
“I know that.” Pitt did not hide his own irritation. “I have advised her father to that effect, but quite naturally he cannot bring himself to accept it. I myself have a daughter only two years younger, and when I look at her I know perfectly well I would not accept it either. I would want to beat him senseless, even tear the man apart with my own hands. Knowing I would end up in jail for assault, and it would leave my wife and children in an even worse position perhaps might stop me, but I can’t swear to it.”
Delacourt’s eyebrows rose slightly. “You want me to advise you how to stop Castelbranco? Say to him exactly what you have said to me.”
“I want to know more about rape cases,” Pitt answered sharply. “It can’t always be as hopeless as this. If it is, then we need to do something about the law. Does everyone just … give in? One of the misfortunes of life, like a cold in the head, or