“Yes sir,” Tellman replied with an expression of disgust. He walked away, shoulders stiff, a little bounce in his step as if he were spoiling for a fight. He was a difficult man, but he was observant, patient and never backed away from any conclusion, no matter how he might dislike it.
Pitt turned back to Corbett. “I had better see Mrs. Parmenter.”
“She’s in the withdrawing room, sir. It’s over that way.” Corbett pointed across the hall and under the white pillars to another highly ornate doorway.
“Thank you.” Pitt walked across, his footsteps on the tiny marble pieces sounding loud in the silence of the house. He knocked on the door, and it was opened immediately by a maid.
Inside was a beautiful room, decorated in a very modern style again, with much Chinese and Japanese art, a silk screen covered in embroidered peacock tails dominating the farther corner—even the wallpaper had a muted bamboo design on it. But at the moment all Pitt’s attention was taken by the woman who lay on the black-lacquered chaise longue. It was difficult to tell her height, but she was slender, of medium coloring, and her features were handsome and most unusual. Her enormous eyes were wide set, her cheekbones high and her nose unexpectedly strong. She gave the air that in normal circumstances she would smile easily and laugh at the slightest chance. Now she was very grave and kept her composure only with difficulty.
“I beg your pardon for disturbing you, Mrs. Parmenter,” Pitt apologized, closing the door behind him. “I am Superintendent Pitt, from Bow Street. Assistant Commissioner Cornwallis has asked me to conduct the investigation into the death of Miss Bellwood.” He did not offer any explanation. It seemed like an admission that they were prepared to conceal something., or to prejudge the depth and the outcome of the tragedy.
“Of course,” she said with the ghost of a smile. “I understand, Superintendent.” She turned a little to face him but did not move from her reclining position. The maid waited discreetly in the corner, perhaps in case her mistress should need further restorative or assistance.
“I imagine you need me to tell you what I know?” Vita Parmenter continued, her voice dropping a little.
Pitt sat down, more to save her staring up at him than for his own comfort. “If you please.”
She had obviously prepared herself, and her mind seemed very clear; there was only the slightest trembling in her hands. She kept her amazing eyes steadily upon his.
“My husband had taken his breakfast early, as he frequently does when he is working. I imagine Unity—Miss Bellwood—had also. I did not see her at the table, but that was not remarkable. The rest of us ate as usual. I do not think we discussed anything of interest.”
“The rest of us?” he questioned.
“My son, Mallory,” she explained. “My daughters, Clarice and Tryphena, and the curate who is staying with us at present.”
“I see. Please go on.”
“Mallory went into the conservatory to read and study. He finds it an agreeable place, quiet and warm, and no one interrupts him. The maids do not go in there, and the gardener has little to do at this time of year.” She was watching him carefully. She had very clear gray eyes, with dark lashes and high, delicate brows. “Clarice went upstairs. She did not say why. Tryphena came in here to play the pianoforte. I don’t know where the curate went. I was in here also, as was Lizzie, the downstairs maid. I was arranging flowers. When I had finished them I started towards the hall and was almost at the doorway when I heard Unity cry out …” She stopped, her face pinched and white.
“Did you hear what she said, Mrs. Parmenter?” he asked gravely.
She swallowed. He saw her throat jerk.
“Yes,” she whispered. “She said, ‘No, no!’ And something else, and then she screamed and there was a sort of thumping … and silence.” She stared at him, and her face reflected her horror as if she were still hearing it in her head, replaying again and again.
“And the something else?” he asked, although Cornwallis had already told him what the servants had said. He did not expect her to answer, but he had to give her the opportunity.
She showed the loyalty he had expected.
“I … I …” Her eyes dropped. “I am not certain.”
He did not push her. “And what did you see when you entered the hall, Mrs. Parmenter?” he continued.