Anne Perry - Traitors Gate

“What do you wish to know? I cannot possibly recount to you the entire matter. I shall be here all day.” Soames looked both surprised and irritated, as if he found the request unreasonable.

“I only need to know who dealt with the information.”

Soames sighed. “You are still asking the impossible. Mr. Rhodes first tried to secure Bechuanaland from the Cape. Back in August of ’eighty-three he addressed the Cape Parliament on that issue.” He sat back farther in his chair, folding his hands across his waistcoat. “It was the gateway to the enormous fertile northern plains of Matabeleland and Mashonaland. But he found Scanlen, the prime minister, to be quite uninterested. The Cape Parliament was in debt to an immense degree with a railway obligation of some fourteen million pounds, and having just suffered a war with Basutoland which had been a crippling additional expense. It was at that time that Rhodes first turned to London for finances … unwillingly, I may say. Of course that was during Mr. Gladstone’s Liberal government. Lord Derby was Foreign Secretary then. But he was no more interested than had been Scanlen of the Cape.” Soames regarded Pitt narrowly. “Are you familiar with all this, Superintendent?”

“No sir. Is it necessary that I should be?”

“If you are to understand the history of the financing of this expedition.” Soames smiled belatedly, and continued. “After our fearful losses at Majuba, Lord Derby wanted nothing to do with it. However, the following year there was a complete turn in events, largely brought about by fear of the Transvaal pushing northwards and eclipsing our efforts, our very necessary efforts for the safety of the Empire, the sea lanes ’round the Cape, and so on. We could not afford to allow the Cape ports to fall solely into the hands of the Afrikaners. Are you following me?”

“Yes.”

“Kruger and the other Transvaal delegates sailed to London the following year, ’eighty-four, to renegotiate the Pretoria Convention. Part of this agreement-I won’t bore you with the details-included Kruger letting go of Bechuanaland. Boer freebooters were moving northward.” He was watching Pitt closely to see if he understood. “Kruger double-crossed Rhodes and annexed Goshen to the Transvaal, and Germany entered the scene. It became increasingly complicated. Do you begin to see how much information there is, and how difficult to ascertain who knew what?”

“I do,” Pitt conceded. “But surely there are usual channels through which information passes which concerns Zambezia and Equatoria?”

“Certainly. What about the Cape, Bechuanaland, the Congo and Zanzibar?”

The sounds from the open window seemed far away, like another world.

“Exclude them for the time being,” Pitt directed.

“Very well. That makes it easier.” Soames did not look any less concerned or irritated. His brow was furrowed and there was a tension in his body. “There are only myself, Thompson, Chetwynd, MacGregor, Cranbourne and Alderley who are aware of all of the areas you mention. I find it hard to think that any of them have been careless, or allowed information to pass to anyone unauthorized, but I suppose it is possible.”

“Thank you.”

Soames frowned. “What do you intend to do?”

“Pursue the matter,” Pitt replied with a noncommittal smile. He would have Tellman deal with it, see if there were any connections between one of these men and Miss Amanda Pennecuick, among other things.

Soames was regarding Pitt steadily. “Superintendent, I presume the information has been used inappropriately, for personal gain, speculation of some sort? I trust it in no way jeopardizes our position in Africa? I am aware of how serious it is.” He leaned forward. “Indeed it is imperative that we obtain Zambezia and the entire Cape-to-Cairo route. If it falls to the wrong powers, God alone knows what harm may be done. All the work, the profound influence of men like Livingstone and Moffatt, will be overtaken by a tide of violence and religious barbarism. Africa may be bathed in blood. Christianity could be lost in the continent.” His face looked bleak and sad. It was obviously something he believed in profoundly and without question.

Pitt felt a sudden wave of sympathy for the man. It was so far from the opportunism and the exploitation Sir Arthur had feared. Ransley Soames at least had no part in the Inner Circle and its manipulation. Pitt could like him for that alone. It was an overwhelming relief. After all, he was to be Matthew’s father-in-law.

“I’m sorry. I wish I could say that it were,” he answered gravely. “But it has been passed to the German Embassy.”

The color drained from Soames’s face and he stared at Pitt in horror. “Information … accurate information? Are you sure?”

“It may not yet have done any irreparable harm,” Pitt strove to reassure him.

“But … who would do such a … a thing?” Soames looked almost desperate. “Will the Germans press in from Zanzibar with armies? They do have men, weapons, even gunboats there, you know? There has already been rebellion, suppression and bloodshed!”

“That may be enough to prevent them pressing inland just yet,” Pitt said hopefully. “In the meantime, Mr. Soames, thank you for this information. I shall take this with me.” He rose to his feet and was at the door before he took a sudden chance. After all, Harriet Soames was a young woman of fashion and society. “Sir, are you by any chance familiar with the name of Miss Amanda Pennecuick?”

“Yes.” Soames looked startled. “Whatever makes you ask such a question? She can have nothing to do with this. She is a friend of my daughter’s. Why do you ask, Superintendent?”

“Is she acquainted with any of the gentlemen on this list?”

“Yes, yes I believe so. Alderley has met her in social circumstances in my house, that I am aware of. He seems very taken with her. Not unnaturally. She is an unusually charming young woman. What has that to do with the financial information on Africa, Superintendent?”

“Possibly nothing.” Pitt smiled quickly and opened the door. “Thank you very much, sir. Good morning.”

The following day was Sunday, and for Nobby Gunne it was the happiest day she could remember. Peter Kreisler had invited her to go down the river with him, and had hired a small pleasure boat for the afternoon. They were to return by carriage through the long, late spring evening after supper.

Now she sat in the small craft on the bright water, the sun in her face, the breeze just cool enough to be pleasant, and the sounds of laughter and excited voices drifted across the river as women in pale muslin dresses, men in shirtsleeves, and excited children leaned over the rails of excursion boats, or looked down from bridges or across from either bank.

“All London seems to be out today,” she said happily as their boatman steered dexterously between a moored barge and a fishing trawler. They had boarded at Westminster Bridge under the shadow of the Houses of Parliament, and were now well down the outgoing tide beyond Blackfriars, almost to the Southwark Bridge, with London Bridge ahead of them.

Kreisler smiled. “A perfect May day, why not? I suppose the virtuous are still in church?” They had earlier heard the sound of bells drifting across the water, and he had already pointed out one or two elegant Wren spires in the distance.

“I can be just as virtuous here,” she replied with questionable truth. “And certainly a great deal better tempered.”

This time he made no effort to hide his amusement. “If you are going to try to convince me you are a conventional woman, you are far too late. Conventional women do not paddle up the Congo in canoes.”

“Of course not!” she answered happily. “They sit in pleasure boats on the Thames, and allow gentlemen of their acquaintance to take them up to Richmond or Kew, or down to Greenwich for the afternoon….”