Page 40 of What Cannot Be Said

“Sir Ivo’s son and heir,” said Salinger. “He and my elder son left late last week for a fishing trip to Scotland with friends.”

“What can you tell me about this fencing master?”

Salinger frowned. “I know that at one time Sir Ivo had engaged the services of Damion Pitcairn, but I don’t know if he’s still using him.”

Sebastian knew a sense of deep foreboding. The son of a Scottish plantation owner and an enslaved woman, Damion Pitcairn gave fencing lessons to the sons of rich men to supplement his income as a violinist at the Opera. Brilliant and incredibly talented, he would have had a bright future ahead of him... were it not for his mixed heritage and the color of his skin.

Sebastian leaned forward, his hands clasped loosely between his knees. “I’d like to ask you a few questions about Sunday’s picnic in Richmond Park, if you don’t mind. Whose idea was the expedition?”

Again the children exchanged glances. Percy shrugged, while Arabella said slowly, “I think maybe it was Aunt Laura who came up with the idea, but I don’t know for certain. It could have been Emma.”

“How many people knew about the planned picnic?”

Another shrug, this time from Arabella. “Well, the servants did, of course. But beyond that?” She scrunched up her face in thought. “I don’t think I told anyone, but Emma might have.”

“Have either of you remembered anything—anything at all—that might shed some light on what happened to your aunt and cousin?”

Brother and sister shook their heads in unison. “No, sir,” said Arabella. “I’m sorry.”

Sebastian glanced at her brother. “Tell me this, Percy: Did you stay with your sister while she was picking wildflowers?”

The boy wrinkled his nose. “No, sir. I wanted to catch tadpoles. There’s ever so many of them in that pool near where the path turns—you know the place where it’s sandy? I nicked one of the teacups when Aunt Laura wasn’t looking”—he cast a rueful glance at his frowning father—“and told Arabella to go on ahead.”

“Did you see or hear anything while you were catching tadpoles?”

“No, sir. I mean, I heard a couple of shots, of course, but I figured maybe it was somebody shooting at wafers or some such thing. It wasn’t until later that I realized no one would’ve been doing that in the park.”

“You didn’t hear any voices?”

“I may have,” said the boy slowly. “But I wasn’t really paying attention, if you know what I mean?” A ghost of a smile touched his lips, then was gone. “I was just... playing with the tadpoles.”

“I understand,” said Sebastian.

Percy looked at him with wide, solemn eyes. “You think that’s why that fellow jumped me this morning? Because he killed Aunt Laura and Emma, and he thinks I saw or heard something?”

Sebastian threw a significant glance at the boy’s father, who said, “We don’t really know yet, Percy. Lord Devlin is simply trying to help us figure it all out.”

“I wish I had paid more attention,” said the boy with a frustrated sigh.

Sebastian pushed to his feet and reached out to rest a reassuring hand on the boy’s small, thin shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, lad.”

The boy bit his lip and nodded, but his soft gray eyes were swimming with tears he refused to let fall.

?“How long ago did your elder son and his cousin leave for Scotland?” Sebastian asked Lord Salinger as the two men walked down the stairs to the front door.

“Last Thursday. Why?”

“And for how long had the expedition to Richmond been planned?”

Salinger thought for a moment. “I suppose it’s been two weeks or more since the children first started talking about it. Why?”

“So it’s conceivable that one of the boys could have mentioned it to someone?” Someone such as Malcolm’s young fencing instructor, Sebastian thought, but he didn’t say it.

“I suppose so, yes. But why would they?”

Sebastian shook his head. “I have no idea. But I don’t think we can discount it as a possibility.”

Chapter 25

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