by Anne Perry
“Yes,” she said at last, turning toward him. “Let’s go. I always took my troubles to the end of the garden. Do you remember the time you had me write them down on a piece of paper, and then bury it there?” Her expression was filled with too many mixed emotions for him to read.
He offered her his arm. It was an oddly old-fashioned gesture for these modern times, and yet it felt right. She took it and they walked out onto the grass and along the lawn. There was no sound except the after-sunset breeze whispering in the poplars.
“I don’t want to interfere in Daniel’s case,” he said when they were halfway to the far end of the grass. “It’s an agreement between us that I don’t.”
“I know,” she said. “He told me.”
“But I’m worried,” he continued. “It’s a delicate balance. If I offer advice, he’ll refuse. If I do so without his asking, he’ll resent it, even if it actually helps.”
There was gentle amusement in her voice. “It’s not difficult to imagine how you feel. Cassie’s only three, and she gets cross if I do something to help her when she thinks she can do it by herself. Funnily enough, she’ll let Patrick help, usually.”
“Yes, you were the same,” Pitt observed.
“Was I?” She was surprised. “I don’t remember. At least, not many things. I remember pulling weeds…”
“You were helping me,” he pointed out.
She said nothing, but he could tell she was smiling, even though he could see only the outline of her face, the line of her cheek.
“Can I collect on that now?” she asked.
“Anytime,” he replied.
There was another silence for several moments. The air smelled of the warm earth and something sweet. Perhaps it was the late roses covering the wall.
He was tempted to say something, but managed not to.
“I’m just afraid Patrick’s loyalty is preventing him from seeing anything that’s going to hurt him in the end,” she started. “Or Daniel.”
“It’s to do with this Philip Sidney case?”
“Yes.”
“Sweetheart, if you take sides, you’re bound to get hurt sometimes. The only thing worse is not to take sides in anything and stand apart from life, always on the edge, never part of it.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” She did not ask with anger, but rather, ruefully.
“What are you really afraid of? That they are on different sides, and one of them is going to get badly hurt? You want somehow to stand between them?”
“In part,” she admitted.
“Then what else?”
“That there’s something else behind it that’s really bad, and they can’t find it—maybe that it will never be found—and they’ll know they missed it for all the wrong reasons: too busy trying not to hurt each other…or not to be right, without it costing,” she hesitated. “Or to be right, without it costing…I don’t know what.”
“It’s going to happen sometime,” her father pointed out. “Maybe not between them, but with someone. Cases that can wound people you know, perhaps badly, are always going to be hard. And one way or another, you’re going to know a lot of people. If you don’t see it at the beginning of the case, you will by the end.”
“Did you get a lot of cases like that?” she asked gently.
He looked away, his face toward the slight breeze. “A fair few.”
“Did any of your friends make bad mistakes? I’m not asking who.”
“We all make mistakes, Jem. It’s how we live with them afterward that matters. Accept that we really were wrong; don’t make excuses or blame anyone else. The moment you say ‘I was wrong’ you can begin to move on.”
“Do you think Patrick’s wrong?”
“I have no idea. I know little about the Philip Sidney case. Do you want me to find out?”
She waited a long time before she replied. “Yes, please. I think so. Daniel asked the same questions Patrick did. Why did the Foreign Office charge Sidney with the embezzlement? Why not just demand he pay the money back and get rid of him? This is going to be a horrible embarrassment to the government. And, of course, if they drag out the assault—”
“What assault?” he interrupted her. “Sidney’s only charged with minor embezzlement.”
She told him the story of Rebecca Thorwood.
“Ah,” he said softly. At last it made sense to him. She heard it in the change in his voice. “That is much uglier. And even more reason for the Foreign Office not to make a case of it. You’re right, there’s far more behind it than we can see at the moment. Does Patrick intend somehow to bring the assault out?” He did not ask the question he really meant: Did Patrick engineer the embezzlement evidence so that Sidney would come to trial and the assault would come out?
“He can’t,” she said quietly. “He’s not a witness to anything.”
“But he wants Daniel to?”
“It’s a terrible thing for someone to break into the one place you believe you are safe—and where you are so vulnerable. Wouldn’t you want to see somebody punished if they did that to me? Or the girls?”
He heard the note of anger, and more than that, of fear in her voice. “Is that how you got so much leave to come here? Over a month altogether, with both voyages?”
“What?”
“Don’t play with me, sweetheart. I simply thought Tobias…I mean, through Tobias Thorwood’s influence.”
“I…I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about it. Maybe. But he doesn’t have any influence in the British Embassy! Or, more importantly, in the Foreign Office!”
“I hope not. But not as much is impossible as we would like to think,” he replied. He put his hand out and touched hers very gently. “I’m going to find out, for my own sake, as well as for yours.”
“And Daniel’s,” she added.
“And Daniel’s,” he agreed.
* * *
—
PITT DEBATED WHETHER to approach Daniel. It kept him awake for more of the night than he allowed Charlotte to know. He turned the matter over and over in his mind, and by morning he had come to a conclusion. Whether it was the right one or not remained to be seen.
He said nothing of it to Charlotte. She was busy preparing to take the whole family to see her sister, Emily Radley, and enjoy the little time they had before Jemima would have to return to America.
By ten o’clock, Pitt was in the Foreign Office. As head of Special Branch, and with the delicate state of so many international relationships, especially in Europe, he gained almost immediate access.
“Good morning, Sir Thomas,” the Foreign Secretary greeted him. “What can I do for you? Not more bad news about that Balkan business, I hope?”
“Not at all,” Pitt replied. “Another thing altogether. I’ll be brief. I know you have a ten-thirty meeting. So do I. It’s about this wretched embezzlement in our own embassy in Washington. I’m sure you know about it?”
“Yes.” The Foreign Secretary shook his head. “Damnable. Don’t know the details. Embarrassing, but nothing I can do now. If that’s what you want, I don’t think I can help. Is it tied up to something of yours? Damn. Stupid question. Fellow defending him is called Pitt. Your son, I presume?”
This was exactly what Pitt had dreaded. He knew Daniel would hate it even more. And blame him! “Yes, he is,” he conceded. “It seems against our interest in every way to make a public case of it, and there’s worse than that that could come out.”
The Foreign Secretary’s face was bleak. “What?”
“Apparently Philip Sidney also broke into the Thorwoods’ house.”
“Tobias Thorwood?”
“Yes. Sidney denies it.”
“God damn!”
“He assaulted the daughter in her bed and tore a pendant off her neck.” Pitt thought he m
ight as well get it all out at once. “She screamed. Her father came running and caught up with Sidney in the corridor. He escaped, but not before Thorwood saw him clearly enough to identify him.”
“Is that what this is all about?”
“I think so. Apparently, Sir John Armitage got Sidney out of the country on diplomatic immunity, but Thorwood still wants blood.”
The Foreign Secretary grimaced. “Can’t blame him.”
“No, but we would have done a lot better to bury it quietly all the same. Pay damages, whatever. The girl wasn’t hurt, and the necklace was mainly of a sentimental value.”
“Did they get it back?”
“No.”
“So, a pretty good bloody mess all around?”
“Yes. But Thorwood’s daughter is better than they said in the newspapers. Not really hurt and not indecently attacked.”
“There’s not much point in telling me that now! The cat’s well and truly out of the bag.”
“That’s not the point,” Pitt began.
“There’s more?” the Foreign Secretary asked with disbelief.
“I think so. If it’s just that, why did Armitage get Sidney out of Washington, then let him get prosecuted here, over the theft of just a hundred pounds? He could have asked you to let it slip, maybe Sidney pays it back, and then throw him out. Thorwood couldn’t pursue the other matter because Sidney cannot be tried for the assault over here.”
The Foreign Secretary frowned. “I suppose Armitage must have thought of that.”
“If he didn’t, he shouldn’t hold the job he does!”
“You’re right. He’s still over here. Go and ask him. I’d like to know the answer myself. I’ll give him a call.”
* * *
—
“SPECIAL BRANCH?” ARMITAGE said with surprise when Pitt found him in a discreet meeting room half an hour later. They had met before, but only briefly. Armitage stood and indicated the other chair for Pitt to sit, then followed suit. “Drink?” he inquired. “Pot of tea? Something stronger?”
“No, thank you,” Pitt declined. “I won’t take up much of your time.”
Armitage smiled. It altered his face, making it lighter, easier. “I have half an hour.”
“So have I.” Pitt deliberately relaxed, as if this did not matter to him deeply. “So, I’ll come to the point. The case of Philip Sidney…”
“Of interest to you, or to Special Branch?” Armitage asked with surprise. Then the puzzlement vanished from his face. “Of course! Pitt! Young Daniel Pitt is presenting the defense case. Your son, I presume?” The inflection of his voice made the question something of a challenge.
Pitt had not intended to deny it, but he was caught slightly by surprise that Armitage should have made the connection so quickly. It suggested that it had been at the top of his mind. Interesting. “Yes,” he agreed with the faintest smile. “I see it concerns you also.” It was a statement, not a question, and Armitage could make of it what he wished.
Pitt was even more experienced at the game than Armitage was.
There was a flash of recognition in Armitage’s eyes. Was this going to be a battle?
“I haven’t spoken to Daniel about it.” Pitt took the next step immediately. “I am concerned to know why you prosecuted Sidney at all.”
“Ah!” Armitage let out his breath slowly. “I suppose I should have realized you would get to that, if you were on the case at all. Has Daniel told you why he’s defending Sidney?”
“No. Nor have I asked. I gather you know.”
“I…uh…” Armitage looked up, his expression serious and yet rueful, as if there was some faint humor in it. “I had no intention of telling you, but now I see that I have to. I don’t want Special Branch in it. No slight on your abilities. Rather the opposite. But the more delicately it is handled, the better.”
“But since I know enough to be aware that there’s a problem, you are going to tell me,” Pitt said.
“I see no alternative. You asked why we are prosecuting. The answer is simple. We cannot have Sidney free to continue what he is doing. He is not the innocent that he affects to be. Far from it. He is very skilled indeed. And he has killed at least one wretched young man who got in his way.”
“Really?” Pitt kept his voice expressionless, but with difficulty. Neither Daniel nor Jemima had mentioned a murder. It must have been in America. “Then he appears to be extraordinarily clumsy. If the charges are true, he embezzled small amounts from the embassy in a discreet way, like the petty thefts of a young man who cannot manage his own finances and is regularly in debt. That’s neither clever nor honest, but it’s not unique either. He was bound to get caught one day.”
“Yes,” Armitage agreed. “That is what it looks like.”
“But that is not what it actually is? He is telling the truth, and someone else has made it appear that he isn’t?”
“I prefer not to comment on that. I don’t know the details.” Armitage smiled apologetically. “Enough to say that young Morley Cross worked in the same department, and was found shot dead in the Potomac River. The embezzlement we can prove, and it is a crime. It is a cause for which Sidney can be dismissed from the Service, and for a small time, at least, imprisoned.”
“And that serves your purpose?” Pitt allowed his surprise to ring in his voice.
“I imagine between young Pitt and Tobias Thorwood, they will also manage to raise the assault upon Thorwood’s daughter,” Armitage answered. “A far more serious matter, even if it cannot be prosecuted in England. If mention of it came before the judge, he would be certain to imprison Sidney, and his word will be taken for nothing from then on.”
“And that is what matters to you? That his word should be dismissed?”
Armitage flushed and there was a look of real anger in his face for a moment.
“For God’s sake, Pitt! I’m not doing this lightly! This is only the part you can see. The truth beneath all this trivial but ugly rubbish is that Sidney is a traitor to England—and not just ideologically. He is telling the Germans all he can about our harbors, their depths, their navigation details, what defense we have in certain places. Cornwall and Devon, the north coast of Scotland. God knows, we are weak enough as it is! Our military is living in the past. And more important, our navy is bloody useless, compared with what the Kaiser is planning. Submarines! The Germans have a huge advantage over us in underwater vessels. We are an island nation, Pitt. We can be invaded from all sides, and now from under the sea, too. Worse than that, we can be starved, not only of weapons, supplies, but of food to survive with the use of these machines!”
He did not wait for Pitt, whose face was like stone, to respond, but went straight on. “I don’t know whether the damn fool assaulted Rebecca Thorwood, and since she is unhurt, frankly, I don’t care. Far bigger things are at stake. Treason, and I now know, also murder.” His face was tense, almost pinched, as if the strain was almost more than he could bear. “I can’t tell you more than that, Pitt. Leave the bloody thing alone! If Sidney goes down for some petty, stupid theft, and they manage to ruin him with the charge of assault, so much the better. I trust Tobias Thorwood. He’s a good man. If he says he saw Sidney in his house, let it stand. Far better that people don’t know Philip Sidney is a traitor, prepared to kill if it suits his purpose. Let young Daniel do his job. Just pray he succeeds!”
Pitt said nothing. There really was no response that expressed what he felt, or that would answer Armitage’s fear. He would already know that Pitt would do as he asked. There was no honorable alternative.
Pitt took his leave quietly and went out into the sunny street, but he still felt cold inside. What could he tell Daniel? As the head of Special Branch…nothing.
CHAPTER
Seventeen
THE SAME MORNING that Pitt went to see Armitage, Daniel caught Kitteridge’
s sleeve on the courtroom steps, before they went inside. Daniel realized how tense he had been, worrying something might prevent Kitteridge from coming here this morning. It was at the back of his mind that Marcus might still view the case as Daniel’s problem and forbid Kitteridge from helping him.
“What is it?” Kitteridge stopped. It was early in the morning but already he looked hot and short-tempered. “Can’t it wait until we get inside?”
“I’m not going in,” Daniel said bluntly. “With your permission, that is. We haven’t got a defense.”
“Well, goodness me! How did I miss that?” Kitteridge asked sarcastically. “That does not excuse you bunking off and leaving me to fry alone!”
Daniel kept his temper. He felt just as panicky inside as Kitteridge possibly could. “One of us has to stay. Do you think I can do better than you at stringing out these endless character witnesses? Not to mention the judge’s temper.”
Kitteridge did not hesitate. “No.”
“I’ve got to find something tangible to fight with. I’m going to see Miriam again. She might find some holes in this. If Sidney really didn’t do it, then someone else did.”
“There could have been no embezzlement at all,” Kitteridge said grimly. “I’m beginning to wonder if it’s a put-up job from the start. But I can’t work out why and by whom. Sorry, but I suspect your brother-in-law, for Thorwood to get justice for the attack on Rebecca. But how did he do it? How did either of them get into the embassy at all, let alone into the account books to fudge them?”
“I don’t know,” Daniel replied. “It…it could have something to do with Morley Cross. But his death could also be coincidence. There’s far too much we don’t know, because it doesn’t hang together as it is.”
“Do you think I don’t know that?” Kitteridge snapped. “We’re fighting blind! I don’t even know whether I believe Sidney is innocent or guilty—and I don’t mean just of embezzlement. You know, I know, and more importantly, Hillyer knows that any hour now we’ll get news of when Morley Cross died, and if it was before Sidney left Washington, they’ll charge him with it. And they might be right!”