Sir William paled. ‘Yes, although perhaps I should not disclose that, except that Mr Sundstrom is a reputable gentleman in the Swedish naval establishment. We checked. There was nothing questionable about any part of the transactions. Were it anyone other than a man of Mr Carlisle’s position I should have discounted his fear entirely.’
‘But you didn’t,’ Narraway spoke at last. ‘Did you show him the proof he asked for?’
‘I did not. I merely gave him my word that all the papers were in order, and that the amounts were roughly what he estimated,’ Sir William said stiffly. ‘He wished to see them, but he accepted my assurance.’
Narraway’s face was grim, his jaw tight. ‘And you informed Mr Talbot that the enquiry had been made?’
‘Of course. I telephoned him at Downing Street. He was extremely distressed. Which made me conclude that he was afraid Mr Carlisle’s fears were well-grounded. Mr Talbot has somehow been the victim of an international fraud. I have no idea what it is, but-’
‘I have,’ Narraway said instantly. ‘If you do not wish to have the bank complicit in treason, Sir William, you will keep all these papers in your safe and allow no one else whatever to see or touch them. And I mean anyone! Including Mr Talbot. Special Branch will come for them as soon as they can obtain the appropriate warrants. Do you understand me?’
‘Yes, sir, of course I do!’ Sir William said stiffly.
Narraway smiled. ‘Thank you. The Nation will be obliged to you, although very possibly they will never know it. But I will make it my business to see that the Prime Minister does.’ He took Vespasia by the arm. ‘Good day, sir.’
Outside on the pavement in the wind and the sun, Vespasia let out a sigh of relief, and turned to Narraway.
He was smiling. ‘Thank you,’ he said quietly. ‘Thank God for Talbot’s social aspirations, poor devil.’ Then his face shadowed again. ‘But I wish Sir William had not told him. I suppose it was inevitable. We had better try Pitt again. Talbot may well run, and I have no means to stop him.’ He took her by the arm and began to walk quickly. ‘We had better find a telephone.’
She hated to say it, but honesty prevailed. ‘You will move faster without me, Victor. Please go … Talbot will not only escape, he may take Ailsa with him, and leave Kynaston to take all the blame.’
‘Which would be a hell of a mess,’ he agreed without slackening his pace at all. ‘Or worse than that, he could stop them himself, even kill them if necessary, and emerge as the hero.’
‘How on earth could he do that, with the money in his name?’ she asked. She had to run a step or two to keep up, although he still had her by the arm and it was more than a trifle undignified.
‘Say that it was part of a plan to stop Kynaston,’ he answered.
‘What about Ailsa? She doesn’t love him!’ she protested.
‘Then he might very well have to get rid of her too,’ he agreed. ‘Perhaps that is what he has gone to do, rather than to the bank, whether he now knows we are on to Ailsa. It is only his word against Kynaston’s, and it is Kynaston who stole the secrets.’
She was too out of breath to argue, even if she had had something useful to say.
They swung round a corner and, after glancing in both directions, he started across the street, still holding her arm. They had reached the discreet entrance to a gentleman’s club, and he stopped abruptly, forcing her to halt.
‘They won’t let me in,’ she told him. ‘Don’t waste time arguing with them, use the telephone and call Thomas. If you can’t get him then try Stoker.’
He hesitated.
‘For heaven’s sake, Victor, get on with it!’ she ordered him.
Without any warning at all he put both arms around her and kissed her firmly on the lips, with intense gentleness, as if he would have made it longer and deeper had time allowed. Then he turned and strode up the steps and in through the door, allowing it to slam after him.
Vespasia stood on the steps, stunned and burning with a sudden and completely overwhelming warmth, her imagination soaring.
He returned ten minutes later, his step light, his face shining with relief.
‘You spoke to Thomas?’ she said, moving towards him. ‘He will go after Talbot?’
‘Yes, with Stoker.’ He put his hands on her arms, holding her so that she faced him. ‘It was very good advice — “get on with it!”’ He repeated his words in exactly the tone that she had used earlier. ‘One should have the courage of one’s convictions, win or lose. Vespasia, will you marry me?’
She was speechless. They were standing in the middle of the street. It was as unromantic as it was possible to be. And yet she had no doubts at all. They should be thinking of Talbot, and whether he would kill Ailsa or not, of Kynaston’s treason and the appalling damage a trial would do. Yet she knew without hesitation that the most important thing in her life was that Narraway loved her, not only as a friend, but in the same intense and passionate way that she loved him.
‘Yes, I will,’ she replied. ‘But quietly, if you please. Not in the middle of the street.’
Such an intense happiness filled his face that two men passing by hesitated and looked at him, then at each other, but Narraway was completely unaware of it.
‘I shall live the rest of my life so that you never regret it,’ he said earnestly.
‘I had not considered the possibility,’ she replied with a smile. ‘Time is sweet enough not to waste any of it in less than the very best way.’ She touched the side of his cheek with her fingers, a tender and intimate gesture. ‘Now may we please get out of the public thoroughfare, where we are causing something of a spectacle?’
Chapter Eighteen
Pitt hung up the telephone and turned to Stoker. He had requested the police to go to both Talbot’s house and his office at Downing Street, but it was merely a precaution. He did not think for a moment that he would return to either place. He agreed with Narraway that Talbot would make an attempt to silence Ailsa, the only witness who knew exactly what he had done. Without her he could still twist the truth until he emerged the hero who had discovered Kynaston’s treason and deliberately trapped him. Since he had worked so close with the Government, the Prime Minister in particular, there would be many happy to accept that answer. It would be the perfect way to avoid a scandal, which Talbot would know.
Pitt had now just telephoned the Kynastons’ home. The butler had told him that Mrs Ailsa Kynaston was on her way to luncheon. He could not say with whom, but it was in a restaurant just across Tower Bridge. Apparently the walkway across the great span from the height of one tower to that of the other was a marvellous experience. Pitt had thanked him.
‘Tower Bridge,’ he told Stoker. ‘Restaurant’s just below. We’ll get a hansom. Come on!’
‘How long ago did she leave?’ Stoker asked, following Pitt out on to the street and striding along towards the nearest corner to find a cab.
‘Half an hour,’ Pitt replied, charging out into the roadway and waving his arms as a hansom approached.
The horse drew to a startled halt, steering the cab sideways.
‘Tower Bridge!’ Pitt called out as he swung up into the cab. Stoker charged round the other side to climb in beside him. ‘Fast as you can!’ Pitt shouted. ‘Double the fare if you make it in time!’
‘Time for what?’ the cabby demanded. ‘Damn lunatic.’
‘To save a woman’s life,’ Pitt replied. ‘Get on with it!’
The cab lurched forward and rapidly picked up speed until they were driving as if their own lives depended on it. They swerved round corners on two wheels and thundered along straight roads, the driver cracking his whip in the air and other traffic scattering before them.
Pitt and Stoker clung on to their seat and by now Stoker had his eyes shut. Pitt lost track of where they were. They avoided the main thoroughfare, very wisely.
Pitt had two main anxieties ahead of all the others, ahead even of being too late to stop Talbot from possibly
