Their robbing us is one thing; the Germans doing it is quite another.” He smiled bitterly at the irony of it. “Why do you ask? Do you think there are Inner Circle members in the Colonial Office?”
“Probably, but I’m quite sure there are in the police. Of what rank I have no idea.”
“As high as assistant commissioner?” Matthew asked.
Pitt ate the last of his toast and marmalade.
“Certainly, but I meant of what rank in the Inner Circle. The two have no connection, which is one of the things that makes it so appallingly dangerous.”
“I don’t understand you.”
“You can find that someone in a position of great financial or political power,” Pitt explained, “is quite junior in the Circle, and owes some kind of obedience to an Inner Circle member who appears to be nobody significant in the world. You don’t ever know where the real power lies.”
“But surely that …” Matthew began, then trailed off, his eyes puzzled. “That would account for some very strange discoveries….” he started again. “A web of loyalties under the surface, conflicting with, and stronger than, all the ones you can see.” His face was pale and tight. “God, that’s very frightening. I hadn’t perceived it quite like that. No wonder Father was so distressed. I knew well enough why he was angry, but not the helplessness, at least not the depth of it.” He stopped and sat silent for several moments. Then he went on suddenly. “But even if it is all hopeless, I shall still try. I can’t let it … just lie like this.”
Pitt said nothing.
“I’m sorry.” Matthew bit his lip. “You were not trying to dissuade me, were you? I’m a little frightened of it myself. But you will take up the matter of the information from the Colonial Office?”
“Of course. As soon as I go in to Bow Street. I assume you are making the official Foreign Office request? I may use your name?”
“Yes, certainly.” He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out an envelope. He passed it to Pitt. “Here is a letter of authority. And Thomas … thank you.”
Pitt did not know what to say. To brush it aside as a small matter also dismissed their friendship and reduced it to mere good manners.
“What are you going to do now?” he asked instead.
Matthew looked so inwardly weary, the night’s sleep, if indeed he had slept, was merely a superficial relief. He set his napkin aside and stood up.
“There are arrangements to be made. They-” He took a deep breath. “They are having the inquest the day after tomorrow.”
“I’ll be there.”
“Thank you.”
“And … the funeral?”
“Two days after that, on the sixth. You’ll be there, won’t you? It’s in Brackley, naturally. He’ll be buried in the family vault.”
“Of course I will.” Pitt stood up also. “Where are you going now? Back to the Hall?”
“No. No, the inquest is here in London. I still have things to do.”
“Is there anyone … if you want to come back here?”
Matthew smiled. “Thank you, but I really should go and see Harriet. I …” He looked faintly embarrassed.
Pitt waited.
“I recently became betrothed,” Matthew went on with a faint color marking his cheeks.
“Congratulations!” Pitt meant it. He would have been delighted for him at any time, but now it seemed particularly fortunate that he had someone who could support him and share this time of loss. “Yes of course you should see her, tell her what has happened before she sees it in some newspaper, or hears it from someone else.”
Matthew pulled a face. “She won’t be reading newspapers, Thomas!”
Pitt realized with a jolt that he had committed a social gaffe. Ladies did not read newspapers, except for the court circulars or fashion columns. He had become accustomed to Charlotte and her sister, Emily, who, since leaving their father’s home, accepted no restrictions whatever upon what they would read. Even Lord Ashworth, Emily’s first husband, had allowed her that unusual latitude.
“Of course. I should have said until someone who has read a newspaper mentions it to her,” he apologized. “That would seem a thoughtless way of allowing her to hear of it. I am sure she would wish to be every support to you that she can.”
“Yes … I …” Matthew shrugged. “It seems so heartless to be happy in any respect now….”
“Nonsense!” Pitt said fervently. “Sir Arthur would be the first person to wish you any comfort you can find, and happiness too. You really don’t need me to assure you of that. You must know it for yourself, unless you have forgotten completely what manner of man he was.” It seemed strange and painful to speak of him in the past, and suddenly without warning he was caught by grief again.
Matthew must have felt something of the same emotion. His face was very pale.
“Of course. I … can’t … just yet. But I will go and see her, of course. She is a very fine woman, Thomas. You will like her. She is the daughter of Ransley Soames, at the Treasury.”
“Again, congratulations!” Pitt held out his hand; it was an automatic gesture.
Matthew took it, smiling briefly.
“Now we had both better go,” Pitt said. “I to Bow Street, and then to the Colonial Office.”
“Yes indeed. I must find Mrs. Pitt and thank her for her hospitality. I wish … I wish you had brought her to meet Father, Thomas. He would have liked her….” He swallowed hard and turned away to hide his sudden loss of control.
“So do I,” Pitt agreed intensely. “It is one of the many things I shall regret.” He went out of the room tactfully, to permit Matthew the privacy in which to compose himself. And he went upstairs to look for Charlotte.
In the Bow Street police station he was fortunate to find Assistant Commissioner Giles Farnsworth present. He came only occasionally, being in command of a very considerable area, and this was an unusual time for him to visit. Pitt had expected to reach him only after a considerable effort.
“Ah, good morning, Pitt,” Farnsworth said briskly. He was a handsome man in a smooth, well-bred manner, with sleek fair hair, clean-shaven face, and clear, very level blue-gray eyes. “Glad you are here in good time. Nasty robbery last night in Great Wild Street. Lady Warburton’s diamonds stolen. Haven’t got a full list yet, but Sir Robert will have it ready by midday. Most unpleasant. See to it personally, will you. I promised Sir Robert I’d have my best man on it.” He did not bother to look at Pitt to receive his answer. It was an order, not a suggestion.
When Micah Drummond had retired he had recommended Pitt to take his place with such fervor that Farnsworth had accepted it, but with considerable reservations. Pitt was not a gentleman, as Drummond had been, nor had he any previous experience of commanding men, such as a commissioned rank in the army, again, as Drummond had had. Farnsworth was accustomed to working with men of Drummond’s social rank in the position of superintendent. It made matters so much easier. They understood each other, they knew the rules as lesser men do not, and they were comfortable as something approaching equals.
Pitt would never be socially equal with Farnsworth, and there would never be friendship between them. The fact that Drummond had regarded Pitt as a friend was one of those inexplicable lapses that even gentlemen make from time to time. Although usually it was with people who had some particular skill or art to recommend them, such as the breeding of fine horses, or the design of a great garden with follies, parterres of box or lavender, or some brilliant new mechanical device for waterfalls and fountains. Pitt had never before encountered anyone who had such a lapse of judgment over a professional junior.
“Mr. Farnsworth,” Pitt stopped him as he was about to leave.
“Yes?” Farnsworth was surprised.
“Naturally I will attend to Lady Warburton’s diamonds if you wish me to, but I would rather put Tellman onto it and leave myself free to go to the Colonial Office, where I have been informed there is a leak of vital information about African affairs.”
“What?” Farnsworth was appalled. He swung around, staring at Pitt. “I don’t know anything about this! Why did you not report this immediately? I was available all yesterday, and the day before. You could perfectly easily
