“Only that Narraway is out of Lisson Grove,” he replied. “I have no idea why, or what happened.”
“I know why.” She sighed, and he saw the sadness in her eyes. She looked pale and tired. “He has been charged with the embezzlement of a considerable amount of money, which—”
“What?” It was absurd. Ordinarily he would not have dreamed of interrupting her—it was a breach of courtesy unimaginable to him—but Pitt’s disbelief was too urgent to be stifled.
A flicker of amusement sparkled in her eyes, and vanished as quickly. “I am aware of the absurdity, Thomas. Victor has several faults, but petty theft is not among them.”
“You said a large amount.”
“Large to steal. It cost a man’s life because he did not have it. Someone engineered this very astutely. I have my ideas as to who it may have been, but they are no more than ideas, insubstantial, and quite possibly mistaken.”
“Where is Narraway?” he demanded.
“In Ireland,” she told him.
“Why Ireland?” he asked.
“Because he believes that whoever was the author of his misfortune is Irish, and that the culprit is to be found there.” She bit her lip very slightly. It was a gesture of anxiety so deep, he could not recall having seen her do it before.
“Aunt Vespasia?” He leaned forward a little.
“He believed it personal,” she continued. “An act of revenge for an old injury. At the time I thought he might have been correct, although it was a long time to wait for such perceived justice, and the Irish have never been noted for their patience, especially for revenge. I assumed some new circumstance must have made it possible …”
“You said
“After what you have told me of your experience in France, and of this man Gower, who was your assistant, and of whom neither you nor anyone else in Special Branch appeared to have any suspicions, I think Victor was mistaken,” she said gravely. “I fear it may have had nothing to do with personal revenge, but have been a means of removing him from command of the situation in London, and replacing him with someone either of far less competence or—very much worse—of sympathy with the socialist cause. It looks as if you were removed to France for the same reason.”
He smiled with a bitter humor. “I am not of Narraway’s experience or power,” he told her honestly. “I am not worth their trouble to remove.”
“You are too modest, my dear.” She regarded him with amused affection. “Surely you would have fought for Victor. Even if you were not as fond of him as I believe you to be, you would do it out of loyalty. He took you into Special Branch when the Metropolitan Police dismissed you, and you had too many enemies to return there. He took some risk doing so, and made more enemies of his own. Most of those men are gone now, but at the time it was a dangerous act. You have more than repaid him with your ability, but you can now repay the courage. I do not imagine you think differently.”
Her eyes were steady on his. “Added to which, you have enemies in Special Branch yourself, because of the favor he showed you, and your somewhat rapid rise. With Victor gone, you will be very fortunate indeed if you survive him for long. Even if you do, you will be forever watching over your shoulder and waiting for the unseen blow. If you do not know that, you are far more naive than I think you.”
“My loyalty to Narraway would have been enough, to bring me to his aid,” he told her. “But yes, of course I am aware that without his protection I won’t last long.”
Her voice was very gentle. “My dear, it is imperative, for many reasons, that we do what we can to clear Victor’s name. I am glad you see it so clearly.”
He felt a sudden chill, a warning.
She inclined her head in assent. “Then you will understand why Charlotte has gone to Ireland with Victor to help him in any way she can. He will find it hard enough on his own. She may be his eyes and ears in places he is unable to go himself.”
For a moment he did not even understand, as if her words were half in a foreign language. The key words were plain enough—
“Charlotte’s gone to Ireland?” he repeated. “She can’t have! What on earth could she do? She doesn’t know Ireland, and she certainly doesn’t know anything about Narraway’s past, his old cases, or anyone else in Special Branch.” He hesitated to tell her she had misunderstood. It would sound so rude, but it was the only explanation.
“Thomas,” Vespasia said gravely. “The situation is very serious. Victor is helpless. He is closed out of his office and all access to any assistance from Special Branch. We know that at least one person there, highly placed, is a thief and a traitor. We do not know who it is. Charles Austwick is in charge …”
“Austwick?”
“Yes. You see how serious it is? Do you imagine that without your help he will find the traitor? Apparently none of you, including Victor, were aware of Gower’s treason. Who else would betray you? Charlotte is at least in part aware of the danger, including the danger to you personally. She went with Victor partly out of loyalty to him, but mostly to save his career because she is very sharply aware that yours depends upon it also. And another element that you may not yet have had time to consider: If Victor can be made to appear guilty of theft, how difficult would it be for the same people to make you appear guilty with him?”
It was a nightmare again: frightening, irrational. Pitt was exhausted, aching with the pain of disillusion and the horror of his own violence. His body was bruised and so tired he could sleep sitting in this comfortable chair, if only he could relax long enough. And yet fear knotted the muscles in his back, his shoulders, and his neck, and his head throbbed. This last piece of news made the situation immeasurably worse. He struggled to make sense of it.
“Where is she? Is she safe …?”
