land as well as by sea. He would be a better friend than enemy.”
“I’m sure that is true,” Narraway agreed, following her closely.
“But I can’t imagine any way in which he will be involved in this tragedy in London.”
“I cannot see why anyone would be,” Vespasia said unhappily. “I think you will find it is a madness that is quite personal and could as easily have happened anywhere else, once the passion that ignites it is disturbed.”
They walked past a few more portraits, only glancing at the faces, then made their way to the entrance. They had been together almost an hour. He escorted her to her carriage where Emily was waiting. He thanked her both for the information and quite genuinely for the pleasure of her company, and he thanked Emily for her patience.
Half an hour later he alighted from a hansom cab in Lowndes Square to call upon Watson Forbes. He had already ascertained by telephone that he would be received.
The house was elegant, with all the marks of unobtrusive wealth, a man who is comfortable with his possessions and does not need to display them except for his own pleasure. The outer doors were of carved teak, oiled and gleaming. The parquet flooring in the hall was Indian hardwood in various shades of rich brown. The paintings were quiet: Dutch canal scenes, domestic interiors, light on water, a furled barge sail, a face in repose, a winter scene all blues and grays on the ice.
It was not until he was in Forbes’s study that Narraway saw the paintings of grasslands with an elephant standing motionless in the heat and the strange, flat-topped acacia trees in the distance. There were many carved animals in ivory and semi-precious stone. One entire wall was lined with books, nearly all of them leather-bound. On the well-used desk was an ostrich egg and a box covered with what looked like crocodile skin.
Watson Forbes was a solid man with thick hair that had once been dark but was now paling almost to white, leaving black brows and a sun-darkened complexion. He had a long nose and a neat, chis-eled mouth, which was surprisingly expressive. It was a powerful face, and highly individual. Narraway had heard that he was close to seventy, but he rose easily to his feet and came forward to greet the Special Branch man with interest.
“How do you do? You said in your conversation on the telephone-
wonderful invention-that you need expert information on Africa. I know only parts of it, but whatever knowledge I have is at your disposal. Please,” he gestured to include the several leather-covered chairs, inviting Narraway to take his pick. “What is it you wish to know?” He sat down in the chair opposite. “Whisky? Or do you prefer something more exotic? Brandy, perhaps? Or sherry?”
“Not yet, thank you,” Narraway declined. “Do you know Cecil Rhodes?”
Forbes smiled. It lit his face, altering the severity of it, but the look in his dark eyes was guarded. “Certainly. One cannot do serious business in British Africa and not know him.”
“And Cahoon Dunkeld?”
“Interesting you should mention them almost in the same breath,” Forbes observed. “Coincidental, or not?” Now the amusement was in his eyes also.
“Of course not,” Narraway answered. Forbes’s intelligence was obvious; he would be a fool to try to dupe him. He needed Forbes’s knowledge and perhaps also his judgment. He must not insult him, even unintentionally. “You see a likeness? Or a contrast?”
“Both,” Forbes replied. “Dunkeld has the same ambition, something of the same ruthlessness, but far more charm. However, he started his African adventures later in his life than Rhodes, and he has no brothers to help him.”
“But a gifted man?” Narraway pressed. “And able to gather about him others of talent, and to inspire loyalty in them?”
“Obedience,” Forbes replied, choosing his word carefully. His eyes never left Narraway’s face.
“Well liked?”
Again he smiled. “No. Why do you ask? Is this to do with the plan for a Cape-to-Cairo railway?” Forbes was now studying him quite openly. His amusement was more marked, his eyes bright. “It’s not a new dream, Mr. Narraway. It may be built, but it will be a far bigger undertaking than some of its proponents believe. Have you any knowledge of the terrain it will pass through? It is farther from Cape Town to Cairo than it is from New York across the great plains of America and the Rocky Mountains to the Pacific shores, and then back again. And the climate and terrains cross extremes of equatorial jungle, grassland, mountains, desert, waterless wastes you cannot imagine.” He gestured with strong, square hands. “There are diseases, parasites, poisonous reptiles and insects, plagues of locusts, and the largest beasts on earth. Africa is another world, Mr. Narraway. It is nothing like Europe at all.”
Narraway heard the emotion. Forbes’s voice was thick, almost trembling, and there was a passion in his eyes.
“It has a great and terrible beauty,” he went on, leaning forward a little. “See a bull elephant charge! It is the most magnificent beast in the world. And intelligent! Hear lions roar in the night. Or hyenas laugh. They sound human, but insane. It chills the blood. Have you heard about the drums? They send messages over hundreds of miles, one drummer to another, as we would use beacon fires. Only, of course, their messages are much more complicated, an entire language.”
Narraway did not interrupt him.
“There are scores of kingdoms,” Forbes went on urgently. “Boundaries that have nothing to do with the white man: Zulu, Mashona, Hutu, Masai, Kikuyu, and dozens more. And the Arabs still trade in slaves from the interior to the coasts. There are old wars and hatreds going back a thousand years that we know nothing about.”
“Are you saying that it cannot succeed?” Narraway asked. He was both awed and disappointed. Did he want Africa tamed by the white man’s railway? Did he want the British Empire spreading culture, commerce, and Christianity throughout? Or was it a better dream to leave its dark heart unconquered?
He surprised himself. He loved knowledge, acquired it, traded in it, and benefited from its power. There was a kind of safety in there being something still unknown, as if dreams and miracles could still happen. To know everything was to destroy the infinite possibilities of unreasoning hope.
Did he see some reflection of this in Watson Forbes’s face also, even a certain humility? Or was that only what he imagined he saw?
“No,” Forbes said softly. “It may succeed one day, but I think it will be a far longer undertaking than these men are prepared for. It will need greater courage and fortitude, and require greater wisdom than they yet have.”
“You know the people who could do it?” Narraway dragged his mind back to his reason for coming here.
“Of course. Africa is larger than we who are used to England can imagine, but the white men there still know one another. There are few enough of them.”
“Tell me what you know of them, honestly. I cannot tell you my reasons for needing to know, but they are real and urgent.”
Forbes did not argue, and if he was troubled by curiosity, it did not show in his unusual face. “Where should I begin?” he asked.
“With Cahoon Dunkeld,” Narraway answered. Dunkeld was the leader, by far the most dominant personality. If there was an ordinary human person behind this crime, then surely Dunkeld’s will, his cruelty, or his mistake was at the heart of it. “Is there more to say of him?
What do you know of his wife?”
“Elsa?” Forbes was surprised. “Nothing much. A woman with the possibility of beauty, but not the fire. In the end she is essentially boring.”
“Is he bored with her?”
“Undoubtedly. But she has certain attributes that make her an excellent wife for him.”
Narraway winced.
“His daughter is a completely different matter,” Forbes continued, the slightest smile moving his lips. “She is passionate, handsome, and dangerous. I cannot think why she married Julius Sorokine, who is emotionally also a bore. He is very gifted in diplomacy, has great charm when he wishes to use it, but he is lazy. He could be immeasurably better than he is, and that is his tragedy.”
“And his half-brother, Simnel Marquand?”
“Oh, Simnel. He is probably at the crown of his achievements.
His financial abilities are superb. He understands money better than any other man I know.”
