Thomas & Charlotte Pitt 29 - Death On Blackheath by Anne Perry Read Free Book Online Page A

profoundly that it was not Kitty Ryder – but he knew it probably was.

Chapter Three
    IT WAS well after five by the time Pitt was again in the Kynaston house, this time standing in the morning room opposite Kynaston himself. It was dark outside by this hour, but the fire had probably been lit all day and the room was warm. In other circumstances he might have appreciated the elegance of the furniture, the books on the many shelves, even the paintings. They were a curious choice, most of them snow scenes, clearly not anywhere in Britain by the scale and magnificence of the mountains. There was a soaring beauty to them, and yet a detail as if the artist were familiar with them. He wondered why Kynaston had chosen them, but today he was too preoccupied to give them more than a glance.
    Kynaston was waiting for him to speak. He stood in the middle of the thick Turkish carpet, his face tense and puzzled.
    ‘I expect you have heard already,’ Pitt began. ‘There has been a body found early today, before dawn, at the gravel pit to the east of here. It’s that of a young woman, but it is so damaged that it is not possible to make an immediate identification. I am very sorry, but we cannot say if it is Kitty Ryder or not – at least not yet.’
    Kynaston was very pale, but he kept his composure, even if it was with difficulty. ‘I take it from the way you phrase it that it could be. Do you believe that it is?’
    ‘I think it is probable, yes,’ Pitt admitted, then instantly wondered if perhaps he should have been more cautious.
    Kynaston took a deep breath. ‘If she is unrecognisable, poor creature, why do you believe it may be Kitty?’
    Pitt had seen people fight the inevitable before. It was the natural instinct to deny tragedy as long as possible. He had done it himself, but had always had to give in in the end.
    ‘She is the same general height and build as Kitty,’ he replied quietly. ‘Her hair is auburn.’ He saw Kynaston’s body tense even more and the muscles along his jaw tighten. ‘And she had in her pocket a lace-edged handkerchief with the letter “R” embroidered on it,’ he continued. ‘Your butler says Mrs Kynaston has some like it, and that she occasionally gives away old ones.’
    There was a long moment’s silence; then Kynaston straightened his shoulders a little. ‘I see. It does seem … probable. Nevertheless we shall not leap to conclusions. I would be obliged if you did not tell the rest of the household that it is Kitty … until there is no doubt left. Then we shall have to deal with it. My butler and housekeeper are both excellent people. They will help the more emotionally affected of the staff.’
    Pitt took the gold watch out of his pocket and saw Kynaston’s eyes widen and the colour drain from his face. ‘This was found on the body also,’ he said very quietly. ‘I see you recognise it.’ It was not a question.
    ‘It … it’s mine.’ Kynaston’s voice was a croak, as if his mouth and lips were dry. ‘It was taken out of my pocket a couple of weeks ago. Somewhere on the street – damn pickpockets! The fob and chain were taken too. Kitty didn’t take it – if that’s what you’re thinking!’
    Pitt nodded. ‘I see. I’m afraid it happens. Now, I would like to speak to both your wife and your sister-in-law, if that is possible. I appreciate that they too will be distressed, but either of them may have knowledge that would help us.’
    ‘I doubt it.’ Kynaston’s mouth pulled down in a gesture of distaste. ‘I think you would learn more from the other maids … if anything is known at all. Girls talk to each other, not to their mistresses. You surely don’t imagine Kitty would have spoken to my wife about her … romance … if we could use that word for such a liaison.’
    ‘I was not thinking of confidences so much as your wife’s observations of Kitty,’ Pitt answered. ‘My own wife is a very good judge of character. I imagine Mrs Kynaston is also.