AllFreeNovel
Share Us
fford Croft began again. ‘Do you want to be released from this case, Pitt?’
‘No!’ The answer was instant, and not thought out.
This time, it was fford Croft who was silent.
‘No,’ Daniel said again, leaning forward a little towards the desk. ‘I have established a relationship . . . with the household of Russell Graves. I care what happens to his children. I gave them my word. And . . . and for my father. At least I know his nature, and that includes his integrity. And I can’t leave finding this to someone else. My father may have made mistakes. It’s a very difficult job, and there’s not always a right and a wrong. I had . . . I have to know as much as I can to defend him, if it ever comes to that. I can’t go and bury my head in the sand. This isn’t going to go away, especially as we are trying to prove that Graves did not, in fact, kill his wife,’ Daniel said.
‘Yes,’ fford Croft agreed. ‘But at least let us say we have to find the truth. If it exonerates Graves of his wife’s murder, then it might well implicate someone else. To summarise, it would seem to be either someone in the house, or someone who was allowed in by one of the servants. The police are certain there was no break-in. Of the people in the house, Graves himself is most likely. The alternatives are only the servants, or one of the children. Arthur is in a wheelchair. By every account we have, Sarah and her mother were close. There is no word of any quarrel at all, let alone one terrible enough for a girl to have killed her mother and then burned her face and hair, till she was barely recognisable.’
fford Croft’s voice held level, but Daniel knew the intensity of self-control he was exercising, because he saw the white knuckles of the hand resting on his desk and the
pulse beating in his temple.
‘Yes, sir,’ Daniel said quietly. All the time his mind was racing over what he could remember about his father and Special Branch. He had memories of conversations. Mention of crime, often murder, of pretence and deceit. He could remember bombings, and his father coming home desperate to stop them. Frightened people wanted quick answers. If Pitt had taught him anything, it was that there were many sides to any story.
As Daniel had grown older, he had begun to realise how difficult it was to make a judgement, and that the answer often contained tragedy as much as any intentional evil. It was so much easier to be angry, to blame, rather than be drenched with pity.
‘I have an idea,’ fford Croft said. ‘First, we must go back to the beginning. The police didn’t give us much to go on. We need to know more about the science.’
‘What science, sir? Fingerprints aren’t going to help us. Everybody’s prints are all over the place,’ Daniel pointed out.
‘There is more to the science of forensics than that,’ fford Croft answered. ‘My daughter has studied medicine . . . and chemistry. Her name is Miriam. I’ve asked her to come in. Tell her what we have, and see if she has any ideas. Don’t be put off by her. She’s clever. Very clever, although her achievements are not recognised among her male peers and she was not awarded her degrees although she passed all her examinations.’
Daniel said nothing. He couldn’t imagine that this was going to turn up any new evidence.
‘I’ll let you know when Miriam’s here. We’ve only got another seventeen days left after today!’
‘Yes . . . sir.’ Daniel stood up slowly. He wanted to say something else, but his mind was whirling like a dust storm, everything banging into each other: Arthur in his chair, with the exquisite birds, all wings and dreams on his walls; the blood and the scorched carpet in Ebony’s room. The servants facing the break-up of the only family they knew. Graves’ pointless words about the people Daniel loved the most. And fford Croft wanted to call in his daughter, who was a doctor and a chemist!
‘Yes, sir,’ he said again from the doorway. And then he walked out and closed the door softly behind him.
Chapter Ten
Daniel worked at his desk, mostly making notes on what he had heard and observed at Graves’ house. Kitteridge came in, looking tired and unhappy. Daniel was not surprised to learn that he had discovered no legal error of any size at all, let alone one sufficient to justify an appeal.
He sat down facing Daniel’s desk. No one else in the same room took any notice of him. They were busy studying, worrying about their own cases.
Daniel did not want to discuss what he had learned, particularly the part about Special Branch, but Kitteridge had a right to know. If it proved viable and there was a retrial, then everyone who could read a newspaper would know. He realised with a profound sharpness, as only the first impact of the wound, what it would be like to have every person in the street aware of what you were accused of, but no idea of the reality of who you were, or your side of the story.
‘Pitt!’ Kitteridge said sharply.
Daniel realised that Kitteridge had spoken to him, and he had not heard. ‘Yes? Sorry . . .’
‘Did you learn anything at Graves’ house? Do you think he did it? Have you got any other suspects at all?’ Kitteridge’s patience was short, and it was audible in his tone of voice.
‘I learned quite a lot,’ Daniel replied. ‘Did you know he was writing a biography of one of the past heads of Special Branch?’
‘No, is it relevant?’ Kitteridge looked blank. Then suddenly it came to him, and he sat forward so he could lower his voice and be heard only by Daniel. ‘That’s your father’s job, isn’t it?’
‘Yes. But this is mostly about the man before him, who’s dead now. The notes are vile.’
‘Can we still stop it?’ Kitteridge asked. ‘What a cowardly thing to do. I knew I didn’t like the bastard.’
Daniel smiled with a sudden upsurge of warmth. ‘Neither do his household staff, although they’re very discreet about it. An expression on their faces, and extra polite language. But the point is, someone from Special Branch might have done this to frame him.’
‘What? Kill his wife?’ Kitteridge looked very sceptical indeed.
‘Make it look as if he did.’
