Ken Follett - The Man From St. Petersburg

Charlotte’s room was on the second floor at the front of the house, looking over the park. It was sunny and light, with pretty fabrics and modern furniture. It’s a long time since I’ve been in here, Walden thought vaguely.

“You look rather fierce, Papa,” Charlotte said.

“I’ve reason to be,” Walden replied. “Mr. Thomson has just given me the most dreadful piece of news of my whole life.”

Charlotte frowned.

Thomson said: “Lady Charlotte, where is Feliks?”

Charlotte turned white. “I’ve no idea, of course.”

Walden said: “Don’t be so damned cool!”

“How dare you swear at me!”

“I beg your pardon.”

Thomson said: “Perhaps if you’d leave it to me, my lord…”

“Very well.” Walden sat down in the window seat, thinking: How did I find myself apologizing?

Thomson addressed Charlotte. “Lady Charlotte, I’m a policeman, and I can prove that you have committed conspiracy to murder. Now my concern, and your father’s, is to let this go no further; and, in particular, to ensure that you will not have to go to jail for a period of many years.”

Walden stared at Thomson. Jail! Surely he’s merely frightening her. But no, he realized with a sense of overwhelming dread; he’s right: she’s a criminal…

Thomson went on: “As long as we can prevent the murder, we feel we can cover up your participation. But if the assassin succeeds, I will have no option but to bring you to trial-and then the charge will not be conspiracy to murder, but accessory to murder. In theory you could be hanged.”

“No!” Walden shouted involuntarily.

“Yes,” Thomson said quietly.

Walden buried his face in his hands.

Thomson said: “You must save yourself that agony-and not only yourself, but your mama and papa. You must do everything in your power to help us find Feliks and save Prince Orlov.”

It could not be, Walden thought desperately. He felt as if he were going insane. My daughter could not be hanged. But if Aleks is killed, Charlotte will have been one of the murderers. But it would never come to trial. Who was Home Secretary? McKenna. Walden did not know him. But Asquith would intervene to prevent a prosecution… wouldn’t he?

Thomson said: “Tell me when you last saw Feliks.”

Walden watched Charlotte, waiting for her response. She stood behind a chair, gripping its back with both hands. Her knuckles showed white, but her face appeared calm. Finally she spoke. “I have nothing to tell you.”

Walden groaned aloud. How could she continue to be like this now that she was found out? What was going on in her mind? She seemed a stranger. He thought: When did I lose her?

“Do you know where Feliks is now?” Thomson asked her.

She said nothing.

“Have you warned him of our security precautions here?”

She looked blank.

“How is he armed?”

Nothing.

“Each time you refuse to answer a question, you become a little more guilty. Do you realize that?”

Walden noticed a change of tone in Thomson’s voice, and looked at him. He seemed genuinely angry now.

“Let me explain something to you,” Thomson said. “You may think that your papa can save you from justice. He is perhaps thinking the same thing. But if Orlov dies, I swear to you that I will bring you to trial for murder. Now think about that!”

Thomson left the room.

Charlotte was dismayed to see him go. With a stranger in the room she had just about managed to keep her composure. Alone with Papa she was afraid she would break down.

“I’ll save you if I can,” Papa said sadly.

Charlotte swallowed thickly and looked away. I wish he’d be angry, she thought; I could cope with that.

He looked out of the window. “I’m responsible, you see,” he said painfully. “I chose your mother, I fathered you, and I brought you up. You’re nothing but what I’ve made you. I can’t understand how this has happened. I really can’t.” He looked back at her. “Can you explain it to me, please?”

“Yes, I can,” she said. She was eager to make him understand, and she was sure he would, if she could tell it right. “I don’t want you to succeed in making Russia go to war, because if you do, millions of innocent Russians will be killed or wounded to no purpose.”

He looked surprised. “Is that it?” he said. “Is that why you’ve done these awful things? Is that what Feliks is trying to achieve?”

Perhaps he will understand, she thought joyfully. “Yes,” she said. She went on enthusiastically: “Feliks also wants a revolution in Russia-even you might think that could be a good thing-and he believes it will begin when the people there find out that Aleks has been trying to drag them into war.”

“Do you think I want a war?” he said incredulously. “Do you think I would like it? Do you think it would do me any good?”

“Of course not-but you’d let it happen, under certain circumstances.”

“Everyone would-even Feliks, who wants a revolution, you tell me. And if there’s to be a war, we must win it. Is that an evil thing to say?” His tone was almost pleading.

She was desperate for him to understand. “I don’t know whether it’s evil, but I do know it’s wrong. The Russian peasants know nothing of European politics, and they care less. But they will be shot to pieces, and have their legs blown off, and all awful things like that because you made an agreement with Aleks!” She fought back tears. “Papa, can’t you see that’s wrong?”

“But think of it from the British point of view-from your own personal point of view. Imagine that Freddie Chalfont and Peter and Jonathan go to war as officers, and their men are Daniel the groom, and Peter the stable lad, and Jimmy the bootboy, and Charles the footman, and Peter Dawkins from the Home Farm-wouldn’t you want them to get some help? Wouldn’t you be glad that the whole of the Russian nation was on their side?”

“Of course-especially if the Russian nation had chosen to help them. But they won’t choose, will they, Papa? You and Aleks will choose. You should be working to prevent war, not to win it.”

“If Germany attacks France, we have to help our friends. And it would be a disaster for Britain if Germany conquered Europe.”

“How could there be a bigger disaster than a war?”

“Should we never fight, then?”

“Only if we’re invaded.”

“If we don’t fight the Germans in France, we’ll have to fight them here.”

“Are you sure?”

“It’s likely.”

“When it happens, then we should fight.”

“Listen. This country hasn’t been invaded for eight hundred and fifty years. Why? Because we’ve fought other people on their territory, not ours. That is why you, Lady Charlotte Walden, grew up in a peaceful and prosperous country.”

“How many wars were fought to prevent war? If we had not fought on other people’s territory, would they have fought at all?”

“Who knows?” he said wearily. “I wish you had studied more history. I wish you and I had talked more about this sort of thing. With a son, I would have-but Lord! I never dreamed my daughter would be interested in foreign policy! And now I’m paying the price for that mistake. What a price. Charlotte, I promise you that the arithmetic of human suffering is not as straightforward as this Feliks has led you to believe. Could you not believe me when I tell you that? Could you not trust me?”

“No,” she said stubbornly.

“Feliks wants to kill your cousin. Does that make no difference?”

“He’s going to kidnap Aleks, not kill him.”

Papa shook his head. “Charlotte, he’s tried twice to kill Aleks and once to kill me. He has killed many people in Russia. He’s not a kidnapper, Charlotte, he’s a murderer.”