suggestion is enough to ruin me … and the bank too, if they did not dismiss me. The only course possible would be to resign.” He waved his hands wide, jerkily. “And then there would be those who would take that as an admission of some kind of guilt. For God’s sake … what can I do?”
Pitt longed to be able to give him some answer that would offer the hope he longed for, but there was no such thing that would be remotely honest.
Should he tell him there had been others?
“Is anyone else aware of this?” he asked, indicating the letter.
“Only my wife,” Tannifer replied. “She saw my distress, and I had either to tell her the truth or invent some lie. I have always trusted her absolutely. I showed it to her.”
Pitt thought that a mistake. He feared her reaction might be to become so afraid that she would unintentionally betray her distress, or even feel the need to confide in someone further, perhaps her mother or a sister.
Tannifer must have read his feelings in his expression. He smiled.
“You have no need to fear, Mr. Pitt. My wife is a woman of remarkable loyalty and courage. I would rather trust her than anyone else I know.”
It was an unusual statement to make, and yet when he thought about it, Pitt would have said the same thing of Charlotte, and he blushed now with some guilt that he should have assumed less of Mrs. Tannifer without the slightest evidence.
“I apologize,” he said contritely. “I was only-”
“Of course,” Tannifer dismissed it, speaking across him, and for the first time allowing himself to smile. “In most circumstances you would be quite right. There is no need to feel the least discomfort.” He reached for the embroidered bell cord and pulled it.
Within moments a footman appeared.
“Ask Mrs. Tannifer to join us, will you,” Tannifer instructed, then as the man went out, he regarded Pitt seriously again. “What can you do to help us, Superintendant? How should I behave regarding this … threat?”
“To begin with, tell no one else,” Pitt replied, watching him gravely. “Do not even allow them to suspect. If anyone observes your anxiety or distress, think in advance of some other believable cause, and attribute it to that. Better not to say there is nothing wrong, when they may find that difficult to believe. Give no cause for speculation.”
“Of course. Of course.” Tannifer nodded.
There was a light rap on the door, and a moment later it opened and a woman came in who at first glance appeared quite ordinary. She was of average height, a trifle thin, her shoulders angular, her hips in her very lightly bustled gown too lean to be fashionable, or even very feminine. Her fair hair was naturally wavy and of a soft honey shade. Her features were not beautiful. Her nose lacked elegance, her eyes were wide, blue, and very direct. Her mouth was sensitive and curiously vulnerable. It was her bearing which made her remarkable. There was an extraordinary grace within her which would have marked her out from any crowd, and the longer one looked at her, the more attractive did she seem.
Both men rose to their feet.
“Parthenope, this is Superintendent Pitt, from Bow Street,” Tannifer introduced them. “He has come about this wretched letter.”
“I’m so glad,” she said quickly. Her voice was warm and a little husky. She looked at Pitt earnestly. “It is pure evil! Whoever wrote it does not even imagine it is true; he is simply using the threat of lies to hurt and to-to extort … I don’t know what. He doesn’t even say what he wants! How can we fight him?” She moved to stand closer beside her husband, and almost unconsciously she slid her arm into his. It was a casual gesture and yet intensely protective.
“First, behave as naturally as possible,” Pitt repeated, this time to Parthenope Tannifer. “But if anyone realizes you are anxious, give them some other cause to explain it, don’t fob them off with a denial they will not believe.”
“My wife’s brother is in India; Manipur, to be exact. The news from there is sufficient to worry anyone.…” He saw Pitt nod, and continued. “As you know, there was a palace coup in September last year. Our people decided that it constituted a rebellion, and in March of this year our man in Assam took four hundred Gurkhas and marched to Imphal, the capital of Manipur, to talk. They were promptly seized and killed.”
He furrowed his brow as if he could still hardly believe what he said next. “Apparently, there was no commanding officer of sufficient rank left, so the young widow of the political agent led the surviving British officers and the Gurkhas out of the city, through the jungle and up the mountains towards Assam. They were rescued by a troop of Gurkhas coming the other way.” He gave an abrupt little laugh. “I can always say I am worried about him. I should be believed.” He glanced at Parthenope, who indicated her agreement, her eyes alight with imagination and pride.
Pitt dragged his attention back from the extraordinary story of Manipur to the present, grim situation in London. A deep chill settled inside him that two prominent men were being threatened with a very particular form of public ruin, but no price was asked.
It also forced itself into his mind to wonder if General Balantyne might be a third victim of the same plan, but had been too afraid, or too ashamed, to speak of it. And of course the threat to him was far greater … there was a dead body on his doorstep which made the whole issue public and brought the police to investigate.
Was Albert Cole the blackmailer?
It seemed highly unlikely. The more Pitt considered it, the less did it seem credible. He picked up Tannifer’s letter and read it again. It was complex and literate, not the work of a private soldier turned peddler of bootlaces.
And yet he had had in his pocket Balantyne’s snuffbox, which, as it transpired, was not valuable, but still extremely beautiful, and possibly unique.
Both Tannifer and Parthenope were staring at him.
“Is there something of importance that you are not telling me, Superintendent?” Tannifer said with concern. “Your expression causes me considerable anxiety.”
Parthenope’s face was tight, her mouth pulled crooked with fear.
Pitt made an instant decision.
“You are not the only person to suffer from this man’s threats, Mr. Tannifer-” He stopped as he saw Tannifer’s amazement and something which could have been relief.
“This is monstrous!” Parthenope burst out, stiffening her body and removing her arm from Tannifer’s. She clasped her hands tightly in front of her. “Who else is … Oh! I’m sorry. What a stupid question. Of course you cannot tell us. At least I know you would not, because if you did it might mean you would tell others of our predicament.”
“No, Mrs. Tannifer,” Pitt agreed. “I would certainly not mention it without his specific permission. Like your husband, he is a man of dignity and honor whose reputation has never been questioned before. He is accused of the offense which would be most repugnant to him, and yet which, although he is totally innocent, he cannot prove himself innocent of. At least at the present he cannot prove it. With diligent work it may become possible. But his act also lies in the past, and many of those who could have disproved what is charged are no longer alive.”
“Poor soul,” Parthenope said with profound feeling. Her face was flushed, her eyes direct. “What can we do, Mr. Pitt?”
He was desperate to offer some answer which would comfort her and make her feel she was participating in the battle. But he turned to Tannifer himself as he spoke.
“There are certain things which will define this person,” he said thoughtfully. “He must know of the earlier matter you mentioned … how public was it?”
“Not at all.” Tannifer’s face brightened. “I see what you mean. It must be limited by those who either knew for them selves or had heard of it from those who did. That does circumscribe it considerably. But you said two things. What is the other?”
“He must want something from you which will profit him. If you think what you can do-other than merely pay him money, of course-then you may learn something about who it is.”
Tannifer frowned. “Do you not think it will be money, when he has felt the exactness of his power well enough?”
