The Hyde Park Headsman by Anne Perry Read Free Book Online

Garrick, he left the room.
    “If you will forgive me, Superintendent.” Thora turned to Pitt with a faint flush in her cheeks. “I do not wish to appear to tell you your business, but you will learn nothing of poor Captain Winthrop’s death here. You should be out in the streets or asking in the asylums if anyone has broken out. Surely a person who has committed such an act must be plain to observe. He cannot be sane in any sense of the word.” She raised her fair eyebrows. “You will be able quite easily to find at least one person who has seen him. Possibly several.”
    Victor bit his lip and stared at the ceiling.
    Mina looked at Pitt.
    “It is possible, ma’am, and we will certainly try,” Pitt replied. “But I do not hold out a great deal of hope. Madmen do not all have wild hair and staring eyes. I am afraid many of them look as normal as you or I most of the time.”
    “Really?” Thora said with cool disbelief. “I would have thought after an act like this he must be quite easy to see. No one could do what has been done and look like an ordinary person.”
    Pitt did not argue, there was no point, and he was spared the necessity of an answer by Bart Mitchell’s returning with an address book which he held out in his hand.
    “There you are, Superintendent. I think it may prove very useful. There is a full list of his ship’s company and their home addresses. The more I think of it, the more I agree you are right, and that it is probably some quarrel or fancied injustice which someone has brooded upon, perhaps drunk too much, and temporarily lost all reason.” His face brightened. “And that would account for the weapon. After all, it is not inconceivablethat a naval officer might have in his possession a cutlass or some such sword.” He looked hopeful.
    Mina put both her hands up to her face.
    Victor let out his breath in a little gasp and straightened himself as if he had momentarily lost his balance.
    “Really, Bart,” Thora said reprovingly. “I am sure you did not mean to, but you are being rather indelicate, my dear. It is a most distressing thought, and one we do not need to pursue. I am sure the superintendent is much more used to this kind of matter, and we do not need to point the way for him.”
    “Oh—I’m sorry.” Bart was contrite. He turned to his sister. “Mina, my dear, I do beg your pardon.” Then he looked at Pitt. “I don’t think there is anything else we can do for you, Superintendent. If you will be good enough to leave us, I would like to take care of my sister and begin whatever arrangements are most advisable in the circumstances.”
    “Of course,” Pitt agreed. “Thank you for sparing me so much of your time. Good day, Mrs. Winthrop, Mrs. Garrick, Mr. Garrick.” And he inclined his head very slightly and took his leave, collecting his hat from the pale-faced butler in the hallway before stepping out into the sharp spring sunshine. His mind whirled with impressions of grief, anxiety, close family pain, and something else he could not as yet grasp clearly enough to name.
    Later Pitt performed that other necessary but most disagreeable task at the outset of any such investigation: he visited the mortuary to look for himself at the body of Oakley Winthrop. He did not expect it to tell him anything that he could not have deduced from Tellman’s report. But there was always the remote chance that he would observe something, even gather some impression, however faint, which later would clarify into meaning.
    He hated mortuaries, their very bareness smelled sour and sickly and there was always a chill, even in summer. He found himself shivering as he told the attendant his purpose. There had been no need to give his name, he was already only too familiar.
    “Oh, yes sir,” the attendant said cheerfully. “I bin expectin’ yer. Thought as this one’d bring yer ’ere. Nasty, it is. Very nasty.” And turning on his heel, he led Pitt briskly to the room where the