Anne Perry - Betrayal at Lisson Grove

The thought was so devastating that it took Pitt several moments to grasp the full import of it. He was not promoted for merit, but as someone completely dispensable, a Judas goat to be sacrificed when Special Branch took the blame for failing to prevent some disaster. He should have been furiously angry, and he would be, in time, when he absorbed the enormity of it and had time to think of himself. Now all he could deal with was the nature of the plot, and who was involved. How could they ever begin to fight against it?

He looked at Vespasia. He was startled to see the gentleness in her face, a deep and hurting compassion.

He forced himself to smile at her. In the same circumstances she would never have spent time pitying herself. He would not let her down by doing so.

‘I’m trying to think what I would have been working on had I not gone to St Malo,’ he said. ‘I don’t know if poor West was actually going to tell me anything that mattered, such as that Gower was a traitor, or if he was killed only to get me chasing Wrexham to France. I thought it was the former, but perhaps it wasn’t. Certainly that was the end of my involvement over here.’

‘If you had been here you might have prevented Victor from having been removed from office,’ she concluded. ‘On the other hand, you might have been implicated in the same thing, and removed also. .’ She stopped.

He shrugged. ‘Or killed.’ He said what he knew she was thinking. ‘Sending me to France was better, much less obvious. Also, it seems they want me here now, to take the blame for this failure that is about to descend on us. I’ve been trying to think what cases we were most concerned with, what we may have learned had we had time.’

‘We will consider it in my carriage on the way to our appointment,’ Vespasia said, finishing her tea. ‘Minnie Maude will have your case packed any moment, and we should be on our way.’

He rose and went to say good night, and — for the very immediate future — goodbye to his children. He gave Minnie Maude last instructions, and a little more money to ascertain that she had sufficient. Then he collected his case and went outside to Vespasia’s carriage where it was waiting in the street. Within seconds they were moving briskly.

‘I’ve already looked over everything that happened shortly before I left, and in Austwick’s notes since,’ he began. ‘And in the reports from other people. I did it with Stoker. We saw something that I don’t yet understand, but it is very alarming.’

‘What is it?’ she asked quickly.

He told her about the violent men who had been seen in several different parts of England, and watched her face grow pale and very grave as he told her how old enemies had been seen together, as if they had a common cause.

‘This is very serious,’ she agreed. ‘There is something I also have heard whispers of while you were away. I dismissed it at first as being the usual idealistic talk that has always been around among dreamers, always totally impractical. For example, certain social reformers seem to be creating plans as if they could get them through the House of Commons without difficulty. Some of the reforms were radical, and yet I admit there is a certain justice to them. I assumed they were simply naive, but perhaps there is some major element that I have missed.’

They rode in silence for the length of Woburn Place towards Euston Road, then turned right with the stream of traffic and continued north until it became the Pentonville Road.

‘I fear I know what element you have missed,’ Pitt said at last.

‘Violence?’ she asked. ‘I cannot think of any one man, or even group of men, who would pass some of the legislation they are proposing. It would be pointless anyway. It would be sent back by the House of Lords, and then they would have to begin again. By that time the opposition would have collected its wits, and its arguments. They must know that.’

‘Of course they do,’ he agreed. ‘But if there were no House of Lords. .’

The streetlamps outside seemed harsh, the rattle of the carriage wheels unnaturally loud. ‘Another Gunpowder Plot?’ she asked. ‘The country would be outraged. We hanged, drew and quartered Guy Fawkes and his conspirators. We might not be quite so barbaric this time, but I wouldn’t risk all I valued on it.’ Her face was momentarily in the shadows as a higher, longer carriage passed between them and the nearest streetlamps.

They arrived at the hostelry Narraway had chosen nearly an hour later, tired, chilly and uncomfortable. They greeted each other briefly, with intense emotion, then allowed the landlord to show them to the rooms they would occupy for the night. Then they were offered a private lounge where they might have whatever refreshments they wished, and be otherwise uninterrupted.

Pitt was filled with emotion to see Charlotte; joy just at the sight of her face, anxiety that she looked so tired. He was relieved that she was safe when she so easily might not have been, frustrated that he had no opportunity to be alone with her, even for a moment; and angry that she had been in such danger. She had acted recklessly and with no reference to his opinion or feelings. He felt painfully excluded. Narraway had been there and he had not. His reaction was childish — he was ashamed of it — but that did nothing to lessen its sharpness.

Then he looked at Narraway, and in spite of himself his anger melted. The man was exhausted. The lines in his face seemed more deeply cut, as if made with some instrument that dragged the skin down as it scored them into his cheeks. His dark eyes were bruised around the sockets and he brushed his hair back impatiently with his thin, strong hands as if it were in his way.

They glanced at each other, no one knowing who was in command. Narraway had led Special Branch for years, but it was Pitt’s job now. And yet neither of them would disregard Vespasia’s seniority.

Vespasia smiled. ‘For heaven’s sake, Thomas, don’t sit there like a schoolboy waiting for permission to speak. You are the Commander of Special Branch. What is your judgement of the situation? We will add to it, should we have something to offer.’

Pitt cleared his throat. He felt as if he were usurping Narraway’s place. Yet he was also aware that Narraway was weary and beaten, betrayed on either hand in ways that he had not foreseen, and accused of crimes where he could not prove his innocence. The situation was harsh; a little gentleness was needed in the few places where it was possible.

Carefully he repeated for Narraway what had happened from the time he and Gower had seen West murdered until he and Stoker had put together as many of the pieces as they could. He was aware that he was speaking of professional secrets in front of both Vespasia and Charlotte. It was something he had not done before, but the gravity of the situation did not allow him to exclude them. If they failed, the nature of the plot would all become desperately public in a very short time anyway. How short a time he could only guess.

When he had finished he looked at Narraway.

‘The House of Lords would be the obvious and most relevant target,’ Narraway said slowly. ‘It would be the beginning of a revolution in our lives, a very dramatic one. God only knows what might follow. The French throne is already gone. The Austro-Hungarian Empire is shaking, especially after that wretched business at Mayerling.’ He glanced at Charlotte and saw the puzzlement in her face. ‘Six years ago, in ’eighty-nine,’ he explained, ‘Crown Prince Rudolf and his mistress shot themselves in a hunting lodge. All very messy and never really understood.’ He leaned forward a little, his face resuming its gravity. ‘The other thrones of Europe are less secure than they used to be, and Russia is careering towards chaos if they don’t institute some sweeping reforms very soon. Which is almost as likely as daffodils in November. They’re all hanging on with their fingers.’