Paragon Walk Read Online Free PDF Page A

ravished, he would hardly care to admit it now.
    Lord and Lady Dilbridge had been with company since seven o’clock, and could be written off. The household of the Misses Horbury contained no men at all. Selena Montague’s only manservant had been either in the servants’ hall or in his own pantry in view of the kitchen all the relevant time. That left Pitt with three more houses to call on and then the distressing duty of going back to the Nashes’ to see Jessamyn’s husband, the half brother of the dead girl. Lastly there was the personally awkward necessity of asking George Ashworth to account for his time. Pitt hoped, above anything else in the case, that George could do so.
    He wished he could have got that interview over with first, but he knew that George would not be available so early in the morning. More than that, there was a foolishness in him that hoped he might discover some strong clue before he came to the necessity, something so urgent and pointed he could avoid asking George at all.
    He began at the second house in the Walk, immediately after the Dilbridges’. At least this unpleasant task could be put behind him. There were three Nash brothers, and this was the house of the eldest, Mr. Afton Nash and his wife, and the youngest, Mr. Fulbert Nash, as yet single.
    The butler let him in with weary resignation, warning him that the family was still at breakfast, and he must oblige him to wait. Pitt thanked him and, when the door was closed, began slowly to walk around the room. It was traditional, expensive, and yet made him feel uncomfortable. There were numerous leather-bound volumes in the bookcase in such neat order as to look unused. He ran his finger along them to see if there was dust on them, but they were immaculate, more to the credit of the housekeeper, he guessed, than of any reader. The bureau held the usual clutter of family photographs. None of them smiled, but that was usual; one had to hold a pose for so long that smiling was impossible. A sweetness of expression was the best that could be hoped for, and it had not been achieved here.
    An embroidered sampler hung above the mantel, a single, baleful unblinking eye, and underneath it in cross stitch, “God sees all.”
    He shivered and sat down with his back to it.
    Afton Nash came in and closed the door behind him. He was a tall man, becoming portly, with strong, straight features. But for a certain heaviness and a tightening in the mouth, it should have been a handsome face. Curiously, it was not even pleasing.
    “I don’t know what we can do for you, Mr. Pitt,” he said coldly. “The poor child lived with my brother Diggory and his wife. Her moral welfare was their concern. Perhaps on hindsight it would have been better if we had taken her, but it appeared a perfectly adequate arrangement at the time. Jessamyn cares for Society more than we do, and therefore was more suitable to introduce Fanny.”
    Pitt should have been used to it, the defensive drawing together, the protestations of innocence, even of noninvolvement. They came in some form or other every time. And yet this was peculiarly repellent to him. He remembered the girl’s face, so unmarked by life; she had hardly begun, and she was destroyed so quickly. Here in the comfortless room her brother was talking about “moral welfare” and looking to exonerate himself from whatever blame there turned out to be.
    “One cannot ‘make arrangements’ against murder,” Pitt could hear the edge in his own voice.
    “One can surely make arrangements against rape,” Afton answered tartly. “Young women of virtuous habits do not court such an end.”
    “Have you some reason to suppose your sister was not of virtuous habits?” Pitt had to ask, although everything in him already knew the answer.
    Afton turned round and regarded him with a curl of distaste.
    “She was raped before she was murdered, Inspector. You must know that as well as I. Please do not be coy. It is disgusting.