He wondered about Christina Balantyne and the General. Perhaps in his place he might have chosen solitary pursuits as well. Please God he would never be in such a place to know!
It was with a very different feeling that he followed Balantyne the next morning, when to Tellman’s amazement he met Charlotte Pitt on the steps of the British Museum.
Tellman felt like an intruder, a voyeur, as he saw the joy in Balantyne’s face when he caught sight of her. There was an acute vulnerability in him, as if he cared intensely and dared not acknowledge it even to himself, far less to her.
And watching her quick concern, the direct way she met his gaze, her complete candor, Tellman was suddenly aware that she had no idea of the nature or the depth of the General’s feelings. She was frightened for him. It was clear in her face. Even had Tellman not known that from Gracie, he could have guessed it watching her now.
They turned to go inside, and without even considering any other possibility, he followed them in. Then, as Charlotte glanced at a woman almost on her heels, he realized with a sudden chill, a feeling of almost nakedness, that if she saw him she would recognize him instantly.
He dropped to one knee and bent his head as if to tie his bootlace, causing the man behind him to trip and only regain his balance with difficulty, and some ill temper. The whole incident drew far more attention to him than if he had simply followed at a more discreet distance. He was furious with himself.
From now on he must remain at the far side of any room and observe them by reflection in any of the glass cases that housed certain of the exhibits. Balantyne disregarded him, he was interested only in Charlotte, but she would recognize Tellman in profile, perhaps even entirely from the back.
For some time he contrived to stay always behind a garrulous woman in black bombazine and watch as Charlotte and Balantyne moved from room to room, speaking together, pretending to look at the exhibits but seeing nothing. She knew of the blackmail, of the murder, and was determined to fight to help him. Tellman had seen her like this before, perhaps never caring quite so passionately, but he knew her capacity to become involved.
Every now and then as they moved to stand in front of an other case, he was obliged to pretend to be absorbed in whatever was closest to him. In this place a man alone would be conspicuous if he were not seen to be looking at something.
He found himself next to what was listed on the little plate as a carving from a palace in Assyria, seven centuries before Christ. There was an artist’s impression of how the whole building would have appeared. He was amazed at the size of it. It must have been magnificent. He could not pronounce the name of the king who had ruled it. It was surprisingly interesting. One day he would come back here and look at it again, when he had time to read more. He could even bring Gracie.
Now he must follow after Charlotte and Balantyne. He had nearly missed them.
He was beginning to understand why this case mattered to Charlotte. Balantyne was none of the things Tellman had thought of him. Which meant he had been mistaken, full of misjudgments. If he could be so wrong in his assumptions about Balantyne, what about all the other arrogant, overprivileged people he had disliked and dismissed?
What about all his preconceptions?
What kind of an ignorant and prejudiced man did that make him? One Gracie would not want. One who was angry with himself, and confused.
He turned and walked away from the exhibition, out of the museum and down the steps into the sun. He had a great deal of thinking to do, and his mind was in chaos; his emotions even more so.
8
After what Parthenope Tannifer had told him, Pitt felt compelled to go and see Cadell. Perhaps he had no idea more than any of the others who the blackmailer was, but even the slightest chance could not be overlooked. It was always possible he would be the first victim to be asked for something specific. And he was certainly in a position of power. From the Foreign Office he could affect the outcome of delicate negotiations in a number of areas. It had occurred to Pitt that perhaps one of the victims was more important to the blackmailer than the others, that one was central to whatever purpose he had in mind, and it could be to influence the government in some policy abroad or within the Empire.
Fortunes could be made and lost on such decisions. Events in Africa alone were highly volatile. Where land and gold were concerned there were many to whom life was cheap, let alone honor. In the rush to explore, to press even farther into that vast continent, such men as Cecil Rhodes and others in his footsteps were used to thinking in terms of armies and nations. A single man’s well-being here or there might hardly be noticed.
Pitt had never left England, but he knew enough of those who had to understand that for both men and women on such fringes of ever-expanding civilization, death was around them, frequent and sudden, from violence or the many endemic diseases of tropical climates. It was too easy, in all the other extreme, necessary changes to life and values, to forget the notions of honor which were still powerful in England. The stakes were so high they could dwarf individual considerations.
He had had to make an appointment to see Cadell, and it was two days after speaking with Parthenope Tannifer when he was admitted to his rooms in the Foreign Office. Then he was kept waiting nearly a quarter of an hour.
When finally he was shown in, Cadell rose from his desk with a puzzled look on his lean face. He was not a handsome man, but his features were regular enough, and the lines of habitual expression were good-natured, even gentle. However, today he looked tired and harassed, and obviously was unwilling to see Pitt. He was doing it only because Pitt had insisted it was most urgent police business which could not wait, nor could anyone else help him.
“Good morning … er … Superintendent,” Cadell said with a slight smile, offering his hand, and then almost immediately withdrawing it, as if he had forgotten what the gesture had been for. “I’m sorry to rush you, but I am due to see the German ambassador in twenty-five minutes. I do apologize, but it is a matter which cannot be delayed.” He indicated a very beautiful Queen Anne chair with crimson upholstery. “Please sit down and tell me what I can do for you.”
Pitt accepted and began straightaway. Twenty-five minutes was very little indeed to explore such a delicate and painful matter, but he knew Cadell meant what he said.
“Then I will waste none of your time in civilities, if you will excuse me,” he said, meeting Cadell’s eyes. “This is too grave a subject to leave partway through because other business calls.”
Cadell nodded.
Pitt hated being so blunt, but there was no alternative. “What I tell you is in confidence, and I shall keep in confidence anything you say to me, so far as I am able.”
Cadell nodded, his gaze straight and unblinking. If he had the slightest idea what Pitt was going to say, he was a superb actor. But then as a diplomat, perhaps he was.
“Several prominent men, of position rather than of wealth, are being blackmailed,” Pitt said candidly.
Cadell’s face tightened so slightly it could have been no more than a change in the bright light from the window. He said nothing.
“No one has been asked yet for money,” Pitt continued. “The implication is that it may be influence or power that is demanded instead. A sword is hanging over each of them, and no one knows when it may drop, or in precisely what manner. To the best of my belief, each man is innocent of the accusation, but it is so subtle and so far in the past that not one of them can disprove it.”
Cadell let out his breath very slowly. “I see.” His eyes did not waver from Pitt’s face; they were so intent it was unnatural. “May I ask if Guy Stanley was one of them?”
“You may, and yes, he was,” Pitt said levelly. He saw Cadell’s eyes widen and heard the very slight sound as he drew in his breath.
“I see ….”
“No, I don’t think you do,” Pitt corrected. “He was not asked for anything, except a relatively worthless
