Copyright © 2017 Anne Perry
The right of Anne Perry to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, this publication may only be reproduced, stored, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, with prior permission in writing of the publishers or, in the case of reprographic production, in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency.
First published in 2017 by
HEADLINE PUBLISHING GROUP
First published as an Ebook in 2017 by
HEADLINE PUBLISHING GROUP
All characters in this publication – apart from the obvious historical figures – are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Cataloguing in Publication Data is available from the British Library
eISBN: 978 1 4722 3411 7
Cover images © Richard Jenkins and Chronicle/Alamy (street)
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Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
About Anne Perry
Also by Anne Perry
Praise
About the Book
Dedication
List of Characters
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Epilogue
About Anne Perry
Anne Perry is a New York Times bestselling author noted for her memorable characters, historical accuracy and exploration of social and ethical issues. Her two series, one featuring Thomas Pitt and one featuring William Monk, have been published in multiple languages. Anne Perry has also published a successful series based around World War One and the Reavley family, and the standalone novel The Sheen on the Silk. Anne Perry was selected by The Times as one of the twentieth century’s ‘100 Masters of Crime’.
Twenty-One Days is the first novel in an exciting new generation of Pitt novels.
By Anne Perry and available from Headline
The Thomas Pitt series
The Cater Street Hangman
Callandar Square
Paragon Walk
Resurrection Row
Rutland Place
Bluegate Fields
Death in the Devil’s Acre
Cardington Crescent
Silence in Hanover Close
Bethlehem Road
Highgate Rise
Belgrave Square
Farriers’ Lane
The Hyde Park Headsman
Traitors Gate
Pentecost Alley
Ashworth Hall
Brunswick Gardens
Bedford Square
Half Moon Street
The Whitechapel Conspiracy
Southampton Row
Seven Dials
Long Spoon Lane
Buckingham Palace Gardens
Betrayal at Lisson Grove
Dorchester Terrace
Midnight at Marble Arch
Death on Blackheath
The Angel Court Affair
Treachery at Lancaster Gate
Murder on the Serpentine
The Daniel Pitt series
Twenty-One Days
For a list of Anne Perry’s William Monk series, as well as her many other novels, visit:
www.headline.co.uk
www.anneperry.co.uk
Praise for Anne Perry
‘A truly unusual mystery’ Publishers Weekly
‘Anne Perry’s Victorian mysteries are marvels of plot construction’ New York Times
‘A brilliant Victorian police procedural in which well-realized characters and settings are fascinating in themselves’ Booklist
‘Engrossing . . . The book gallops to a dramatic conclusion’ Washington Times Daily
‘There is a freshness about [Perry’s] writing which makes it truly exceptional’ Eurocrime
‘Redolent with Victorian atmosphere’ Tangled Web
‘Elegantly constructed and nail-bitingly tense’ Good Book Guide
About the Book
Twenty-One Days is the first in an exciting new generation of Pitt novels.
1910. Sir Thomas Pitt’s son, Daniel, is in the middle of his first case as a barrister when he is summoned to the Old Bailey for an important trial. Renowned biographer Russell Graves is charged with the brutal murder of his wife and Daniel must assist in his defence.
When the jury finds the accused guilty, Graves insists he has been framed. He is writing a shocking exposé of a powerful figure, revealing state secrets so damning that someone might well have wanted to silence him.
With the reputations of those closest to him at stake, Daniel has twenty-one days to uncover the truth and ensure that an innocent man isn’t sent to the gallows . . .
To Aviva Layton, in friendship
List of Characters
Daniel Pitt, a recently qualified barrister
Roman Blackwell, a private enquiry agent and ex-policeman
Sir Thomas Pitt, Daniel’s father, head of Special Branch
Charlotte, Lady Pitt, Daniel’s mother
Jemima, Daniel’s sister, a mother of two girls who now lives in New York
Douglas Sefton, an experienced barrister
Oscar Park, the main witness against Roman Blackwell
Mercedes Blackwell, Roman Blackwell’s mother
Marcus fford Croft, head of fford Croft and Gibson
Miriam fford Croft, his daughter
Apperly, a clerk at fford Croft and Gibson
Dunham, a junior barrister at fford Croft and Gibson, injured in a motor accident
Toby Kitteridge, a senior barrister at fford Croft and Gibson
Mrs Portiscale, Daniel’s landlady
Dr Octavius Ottershaw, a fingerprint expert
Major Lydden, a prosecution witness
Russell Graves, a biographer, charged with killing his wife
Ebony Graves, his dead wife
Sarah Graves, his daughter
Arthur Graves, his son
Alister Tranmere, King’s Counsel, prosecuting the Graves case
Impney, chief clerk at fford Croft and Gibson
Falthorne, Graves’ butler
Mrs Warlaby, Graves’ housekeeper
Mrs Hanslope, Graves’ cook
Salcombe, an elderly gardener at Graves’ house
Miss Purbright, Ebony’s lady’s maid
Joe, the bootboy at Graves’ house
Bessie, kitchen maid at Graves’ house
Maisie, housemaid at Graves’ house
Yeats, the Pitts’ manservant
Membury, the fford Crofts’ butler
Winifred Graves, Russell Graves’ first wife
Mrs Wilson, a trusted ally of Ebony’s
Grisewood, a barrister
Dr French, a police surgeon
Chapter One
They were alone in the small room where the accused was allowed to be visited by his lawyer.
‘They’ll hang me, won’t they?’ Roman Blackwell’s soft voice was almost steady, but Daniel could see the fear in his eyes. What should he say? He had been dreading this moment all day. The trial was going badly and Daniel was hardly a year qualified to practise at the bar, let alone to defend a man on trial for his life.
But how could he have refused? Daniel’s father, Sir Thomas Pitt, had asked the head of the law firm if he would allow Daniel to take the case. Blackwell was a private enquiry agent and something of an adventurer. Perhaps some of his cases were dubious, his clients not always the obviously innocent.
Blackwell had been a policeman at the time when Pitt was at Bow Street, long before he had joined Special Branch. He had liked Blackwell, understood not only his sense of humour, but his individual morality. Pitt had saved Blackwell more than once from the consequences of his more quixotic and irregular actions. Blackwell had, on occasion, saved Pitt, too. But the time finally came when Pitt begged Blackwell to leave the police before he made a mistake from which he could not escape. Reluctantly, Blackwell had taken his advice.
Pitt had never forgotten their friendship, and now that Blackwell had fallen seriously afoul of the law, the best Pitt could do for him was to ask Daniel to represent him in court.
Daniel could not refuse. He, too, liked Blackwell, probably for all the same reasons that his father did: his wry humour, his optimism and his imagination.
Daniel frankly found the law far more tedious than he had expected to. The study of it had been interesting at university, but the actuality involved mountains of detailed paperwork. There was nothing glamorous in it, none of the crusading activity he had hoped for.
He was a novice, feeling his inexperience with some pain. He was up against Douglas Sefton, who was skilled, articulate and determined at this, his fifth attempt, finally to convict Roman Blackwell for something, this time for murder.
Blackwell was watching Daniel, waiting for him to answer. He would recognise a lie if he heard one. And what was the use of Daniel lying anyway? Blackwell would only resent it.
‘Yes,’ Daniel replied very quietly. ‘Which is why we have to prove you did not kill John Hinton.’
‘Reasonable doubt?’ Blackwell tried to put hope in his voice, but for once the charm and the music in it did not work.
‘We’re beyond reasonable,’ Daniel answered as gently as he could. ‘They’ll need very strong doubt indeed, and someone the jury can believe is guilty, if you aren’t.’
‘I’m not!’ Blackwell’s voice cracked. The desperation was there for only an instant, but it was unmistakable. ‘I never even touched the gun!’
‘Neither did anyone else, according to the fingerprints—’
‘What fingerprints?’ Blackwell heatedly demanded. ‘There were none!’
‘Somebody fired it,’ Daniel pointed out.
‘Gloves on?’ Blackwell asked with sudden light in his face. ‘That means somebody who knew about fingerprints, and that everyone’s are different!’
‘The Chinese have known about them for centuries,’ Daniel told him. It was a piece of information he found particularly interesting. It was just five years ago – actually, in 1905 – that fingerprints had first been used to identify two murderers and convict them in a British court.
‘If you didn’t kill him, someone else did. There’s no question Hinton was shot – deliberately. And unfortunately, there is no doubt that you knew him well, and quarrelled over a debt . . .’
‘Only a few pounds!’ Blackwell said indignantly. ‘I’m not going to kill a man over a few quid!’
‘So it is,’ Blackwell agreed. ‘And I’m going to lend that much to a chancer like Hinton? I’m not a complete fool!’
Daniel smiled bleakly. ‘You’re generous occasionally, Roman. And—’
‘Not that generous!’ Blackwell said incredulously.
‘—and known to drink a little too freely, and then forget what you’ve done?’ Daniel finished.
‘I never forget money,’ Blackwell said fiercely. ‘Not that much!’
‘Not even when you are . . .’ he hesitated, then went on, ‘. . . thoroughly drunk?’
‘I couldn’t even if I wished to,’ Blackwell shook his head. ‘I haven’t got that much . . . at least I hadn’t then.’
‘Can you prove that?’ Daniel knew he couldn’t. There was no way he could do so.
‘I didn’t kill him,’ Blackwell repeated desperately. His face puckered at the unreasonableness of it. ‘Why would I lend that kind of money to a useless article like Hinton? It makes no sense.’
‘They’ll say you were drunk at the time,’ Daniel replied reasonably. ‘Look, Roman, there’s no point in arguing something we can’t prove.’ He leaned forward a little over the table between them. ‘The only way to change the jury’s minds is to make them seriously consider somebody else. If Hinton were not as useless as the prosecution say, he will have had other enemies. Think carefully. Who were they, and why? Think of people he cheated, lied to, or lied about. People he got into trouble. People he could have been a witness against.’
Blackwell thought hard. He was a big man, not tall, but broad and strong, with a shock of jet-black hair. Only lately, he seemed to have shrunk into himself, as if he would retreat without actually moving from the hard wooden chair.
Daniel searched for something to encourage Blackwell with, not only for kindness’ sake, but because Blackwell was the only source of any information that could implicate anyone else, or at least provide Daniel with another course to follow.
Blackwell looked up hopelessly.
Oscar Park was the main witness against Blackwell, and Daniel had not made a dent in his testimony yet. He felt he was clutching at straws. ‘Well then, what can we find out about Park to make the jury doubt him? Hinton owed you money; he’s no use to you dead.’
‘He’s no use alive, either,’ Blackwell said with a wry smile. ‘Do you think that counts?’
Daniel was too desperate to return the smile. ‘If Park is lying on the witness stand, why? It’s a big risk he’s taking. There must be a reason, and we’ve got to find it.’
‘I don’t know,’ Blackwell said wearily. ‘I never did him any harm.’
Daniel leaned forward a little. ‘It doesn’t have to be as direct as that. Come on! You’ve got enough imagination to see the oblique. What do we know as fact? You didn’t lend Hinton four hundred pounds, whether he paid it back or not. How would Park know, anyway? That’s the price of a small house. Did he owe it to Park?’
‘Maybe. Park was tight,’ Blackwell responded. ‘I once lent him fifty pounds, and he never paid me back.’
‘That could be something. I wonder if he owed anyone else? Who else can I call? I’ve got to have something to build on!’ He heard the sharpness in his own voice. He must control it.
Blackwell said nothing.
Daniel racked his mind for anything that made sense. ‘Then revenge? Does Park hate you? Have you done something to him?’
‘No, but I’d like to,’ Blackwell replied with feeling. ‘The bastard. After the money I’ve lent him.’ His expression was screwed up with the injustice of it.
But Daniel was concentrating on the evidence. He reached across the table and gripped Blackwell’s wrist. ‘He owes you money and he’s repaying you like this? It’s more than ingratitude, Roman.’
‘It wasn’t only the money,’ Blackwell said quickly, shaking his head a little.
‘But it was something. You said, “It wasn’t only the money,”’ Daniel insisted.
‘You can’t mention it in court,’ Blackwell said with a flash of self-mockery. ‘It was just a little against the law. Fine line, but the wrong side of it – definitely. If it comes out they’ll can me for that, too, while they’ve got the chance.’
&
nbsp; Daniel wondered for a moment if he should press the issue further.
‘Don’t,’ Blackwell said, reading his mind. ‘You don’t want to know. Just a little document with a . . . questionable signature.’
‘Does Park know of this?’ Daniel said quickly. When Blackwell looked chagrined, Daniel realised it was Park for whom he’d forged a document. ‘So that might give him a reason to damage you,’ Daniel said eagerly. At last he might be on to something.
Blackwell’s eyebrows rose high. ‘I did him a favour.’
‘He incurred a debt. He either can’t pay it, or doesn’t want to.’
‘How old are you?’
‘Twenty-five.’
‘And so cynical!’ Blackwell sighed.
‘It comes from being a lawyer. What was the favour?’
Blackwell was silent for several moments.
Daniel tightened his grip on Blackwell’s wrist ‘Roman – we haven’t got time to spare. They’ll be coming for us any moment now. What did you do for Park that he can’t afford to repay you?’
‘I told you – I’ve got no proof!’ Blackwell repeated.
‘He doesn’t know that. Come on!’ Daniel said sharply ‘Details . . .’
Blackwell remained silent.
‘You asked me if they would hang you,’ Daniel said between his teeth, hating the sound of his voice. ‘Yes, they will! And once the verdict is in, it’s hell’s own job to change it!’
‘All right! I wrote up some documents for him . . . once. And a letter to recommend him. It was – inventive.’ Blackwell wrinkled his nose. ‘Do I need to spell it out for you?’
‘Why was that so bad? What did you say that wasn’t true?’ Daniel asked.
‘That he was honest, and had a position of trust in a company doing business abroad.’
‘And he hadn’t?’
‘No such company. I signed a dead man’s name.’
Blackwell looked rueful. ‘Does he still have the position?’
‘Yes. On the strength of that letter.’
‘And has he abused that position?’ Daniel already knew the answer. It was written on Blackwell’s face, the pride and shame at the same time.
‘But the owners don’t know yet, and if I speak now, somebody else will get the blame,’ he answered.