by Anne Perry
A little way off a woman with a blue parasol laughed. Two little boys chased each other, tumbling in the grass and getting happily dirty.
She must start to walk again, say something natural.
“As I mentioned, Aunt Vespasia thinks it may have something to do with Africa,” she remarked. “The situation there is so volatile, with fortunes to be made and lost.”
“She is right,” he agreed, also beginning to move forward, his mind returned to the matter in hand. “That would explain the various men he has apparently chosen.”
“The Cape-to-Cairo railway?” she suggested.
They discussed African politics for some time: Cecil Rhodes and the expansion northwards, the possibilities of vast quantities of gold to be discovered, land, diamonds, the conflicting interests of other European countries, most particularly Germany.
But by noon when they parted they were no closer to knowing what any such political adventurers could demand of Balantyne, or anything he knew which could stand in any man’s way to the fortunes to be exploited in Africa or anywhere else.
While Charlotte was in the Royal Botanical Gardens talking to Balantyne, Pitt returned to see Sigmund Tannifer, at his request. He found him in a grave mood, and this time Parthenope was not present.
“I have discussed this with my wife,” Tannifer said as soon as the formalities had been met and he and Pitt were sitting facing each other in his handsome, rather ornate study. “We have given a great deal of thought to who may be involved, and even more as to what they may demand of me, when they finally reach that stage.” He also appeared haggard and as if his nerves were stretched almost to the breaking point. His left hand constantly fidgeted, and Pitt noticed that the crystal decanter on the chiffonier behind him was less than a quarter full of brandy. He would not have blamed any man in these circumstances for seeking a little extra comfort.
“And you have some conclusion?” he asked aloud.
Tannifer bit his lip. “Not really conclusions, Superintendent, more speculation I would like to put before you.” He gave a half smile. “Perhaps I am looking for excuses to speak with you, obtain some reassurance. I fear it is rather like pulling the dressing off a wound to see if it is healing … or not.” He shrugged his heavy shoulders. It was an oddly defeated gesture. “It doesn’t help in the slightest, neither the wound itself nor one’s ease of mind, and yet the compulsion is irresistible.”
Pitt understood perfectly. “And what are your thoughts, Mr. Tannifer?”
Tannifer looked slightly self-conscious. “I am not trying to usurp your office, Superintendent. I am sure you know far more about it than I do, but I was considering all the areas in which I might have some ability to act and which could be misused to someone else’s advantage.” His fingers drummed silently on the arm of his chair. “It always comes back to finance of some sort.” He stopped, regarding Pitt gravely.
Pitt nodded, indicating that he understood, but he did not interrupt.
Tannifer could not hide his nervousness.
“The first thing that came to my mind was to wonder what we may have in common. Of course, I do not know the identities of the other victims, beyond what I may deduce with a little common sense. Poor Guy Stanley is obvious, although since in his case the threat has been carried out …” His fingers increased in their rhythm of drumming on the chair arm. “And I can assume Brandon Balantyne …” He waited to see if Pitt would confirm it or if he could read it from his expression. His lips tightened. Apparently, he could. “And as I believe my wife mentioned-she told me she had spoken with you-I am certain in my own mind that Leo Cadell is also threatened in the same way. He believes he will be asked for money. At least that is the impression he has given me. But I have never thought that was at the root of the blackmailer’s aim.”
Pitt nodded.
“You agree?” Tannifer said quickly, his voice gaining strength. “I am sure we are right. I have been making certain very discreet enquiries into their affairs, and thinking back upon my own responsibilities. It is within my powers to grant very large loans for investment in certain areas, most particularly land and the development of mining for precious metals such as gold.”
Pitt found himself sitting a trifle more upright in spite of his intention to not betray any of his own feelings.
If Tannifer noticed he did not show it. He sat slumped in his own chair, his face heavy with concentration.
“It would be corrupt of me to agree to such loans without proper security,” he said thoughtfully. “But not beyond my actual power. In seeking to learn which areas might be involved, so as to decide who might be concerned, I looked into Leo Cadell’s recent travels, and what I could discover, with discreet enquiry, of his interests.” He was watching Pitt with intense concentration. “In all cases, Superintendent, they centered in Africa. The possibility is barely realized of the enormous treasure lying in the areas Cecil Rhodes is developing. A man who could involve himself now could, in the next twenty years, amass a king’s ransom and perhaps build himself an empire.”
It was what Vespasia and Theloneus Quade had feared. Now Tannifer was saying virtually the same thing.
Tannifer was watching Pitt acutely, his eyes unblinking, his shoulders hunched.
“I see you follow me perfectly.” He took a deep breath. “I was speaking with Cadell, and he let slip a remark which leads me to believe that Mr. Justice Dunraithe White might be another victim.…”
Pitt was startled. How could Cadell have known that? Was it observation of White’s erratic behavior, or the emotional strain under which he labored, almost to the verge of illness? Perhaps it was not so difficult to detect a fellow victim, being acutely aware of one’s own suffering?
“I cannot comment,” Pitt said quietly. “But you may assume that at least one judge is involved. Does that make your deductions any plainer?”
“I am not sure. I see it very murkily, I admit.” Tannifer smiled grimly. “Perhaps I am wasting your time, but I find it almost impossible to sit and wait until the blow falls, and do nothing to try to ward against it.” He seemed embarrassed, uncertain how to continue, and yet obviously there was something further he wanted to say.
“Be frank, Mr. Tannifer,” Pitt urged. “If you are correct, then this conspiracy is wide and deep, and the effects, if it succeeds, will be far greater than the ruin of a few good men and their families.”
Tannifer looked down. “I know. It is only some feelings for the privacy of others which hold me, and perhaps at this stage such delicacy is misplaced.” He looked up quickly. “Cadell indicated to me that there was some incident in the naval career of Assistant Commissioner Cornwallis which could be open to misinterpretation, and therefore to the same kind of pressure as is being exerted upon me.” He was watching Pitt with acute concern. “I am deeply afraid that the blackmailer may attempt to have this whole enquiry dropped in order to protect himself. Perhaps Cornwallis could not further his African ambitions, but he might be persuaded to manacle you ….” He let out his breath in a heavy sigh. “This is hideous! Everywhere we turn we are faced with blind alleys and new threats.”
Pitt made some sign of assent, but his mind was racing on the remark Tannifer had made about Cadell without realizing its importance. The incident in Cornwallis’s naval career was not questionable; only the blackmailer had seen it as such. Tannifer would not know that, but Pitt did. He must not betray his understanding.
“It is a profound danger,” Pitt said, and he had no need to invest his expression of face and voice with any false anxiety. The fear was very real. His regard for Cornwallis made it the more painful, because he could foresee it happening. It was the next, obvious step for the blackmailer, and he now knew Cornwallis would suffer, perhaps already was suffering. If it happened, would he even tell Pitt?
He hated himself for allowing the thought to enter his mind, but it was there like a knife, pricking him at every turn, and surprising in its painfulness.
“But you will n
ot permit it to … prevent you?” Tannifer said huskily. “You will …” He let the rest of the sentence fall away.
Pitt did not answer. What would he do if Cornwallis were threatened in such a way, and if he asked Pitt to protect him? He had not doubted Cornwallis’s innocence. Would he allow him to be ruined, shamed, publicly driven from all he valued? He could not honestly make such promises.
Tannifer looked away. “It is not so easy, is it?” he said softly. “We like to think we would have the courage to tell him to go to the devil … but embarrassment, loneliness and humiliation are real.” He looked back at Pitt levelly. “To speak of ruin is one thing, to face it is another. I thank you at least for your honesty.”
“We had considered the possibility of the extortion of agreement to large funds for expedition into Africa, north from the Cape into Mashonaland and Matabeleland,” Pitt said thoughtfully. “Or an investment in a Cape-to-Cairo railroad …”
Tannifer sat up sharply. “Brilliant!” He clenched his fists on the arms of his chair. “I commend you, Superintendent. Your perception is more finely attuned than I had given you credit for, I admit. I am most encouraged … perhaps foolishly so, but I shall cling onto it.” He rose to his feet and held out his hand.
Pitt took it, and was startled by the strength of Tannifer’s grip. He left feeling as if at last he had taken a step for ward, even if it was towards an unknown and certainly harsh conclusion.
He had no alternative but to go again to see Leo Cadell. He was unable to do this at the Foreign Office, where Cadell was fully engaged for the afternoon, but he called at his home and was waiting for him when he arrived. It was not an interview he was looking forward to, and Cadell’s weary face made it more difficult.
He rose to his feet from the sofa where he had been sitting.
“Good evening, Mr. Cadell. I am sorry to trouble you at the end of the day, but I am afraid there are matters I need to discuss with you, and you were not available earlier.”
Cadell sat down. He did it as if his body ached, and it was apparent he was using all his reserves of inner strength to maintain an air of courtesy.
“What is it you wish to discuss, Mr. Pitt?”
“I have been giving a great deal of thought to what unjust pressures might be brought to bear upon you, particularly with regard to your position in the Foreign Office,” Pitt began. It was difficult to maintain the anger he had felt when he was in Tannifer’s house. He had to remind himself of the pain the man opposite him might be inflicting on others, of the ruin that the blackmailer had unquestionably already unleashed on Guy Stanley without giving him any chance to fend it off, even dishonorably. It was not impossible that the blackmailer might disguise himself as one of the victims. What better way to ensure that he knew the direction of the investigation or its success? Who knew what lay behind Cadell’s anxious face and the polite, patient smile? He was a diplomat. He had made his career successfully masking his emotions.
He was watching Pitt now, waiting for him to make his point.
“You have considerable interest and responsibility in African affairs,” Pitt continued. “Particularly in the exploration of such areas as Mashonaland and Matabeleland.”
“I am concerned with relations with other European powers who have interests in the area,” Cadell corrected slightly. “Germany, in particular, is also concerned in East Africa. The situation is far more sensitive than perhaps you are aware. The potential for making vast amounts of money is immense. Most of the population of South Africa is not British but Boer, and their feeling towards Britain is not kindly-nor, I fear, in any way to be relied upon.” He watched Pitt’s face as he spoke, trying to gauge his understanding. “Mr. Rhodes is a law unto himself. Dearly as we would wish it, we have little control over him.”
Pitt was unwilling to allow Cadell to know too much of his thoughts. Perhaps the knowledge Tannifer had given him was his only advantage. However smooth a face a blackmailer wore, he was a ruthless man without scruples as to whom he hurt, or how deeply. It would seem he enjoyed the taste of his own power. The ruin of Guy Stanley would suggest as much.
He looked steadily at Cadell. “If you were to be asked by the blackmailer, Mr. Cadell, what would be within your ability to do to serve his ends, were he interested in African expansion, a private fortune in that country, or perhaps domination of a Cape-to-Cairo railroad?”
Cadell was startled. “Good God! Is that what you think he wants?”
Was it the idea which shocked him or Pitt’s perception of it?
“Would it be possible?” Pitt insisted.
“I … I don’t know.” Cadell looked acutely uncomfortable. “I suppose there is … information I might pass to certain people … information as to Her Majesty’s government’s intentions which would benefit-could benefit-such a person.”
“How about a military adventurer?” Pitt went on. “Someone intending to raise a private army, for example.”
Cadell was white-faced. He sat forward in his chair. “This is far more serious than I had imagined. I … I supposed it would be a matter of money. Perhaps I was naive. Believe me, if anyone should approach me with any such suggestion I should report it immediately to Sir Richard Aston, whether I knew who it was or not. The consequences would have to follow as they may. I would not betray my country, Mr. Pitt.”
Pitt wanted to believe him, but what else would he say, whatever he would actually do? Pitt could not rid his mind of the knowledge that this man sitting so innocently opposite him had told Tannifer of Cornwallis’s vulnerability, a thing he could not know other than from the blackmailer. In truth, it did not exist. That was the only thing all the men unarguably had in common; the blackmailer knew them well enough to be familiar with what could be manufactured from their pasts to destroy all their usual courage and resolve, reduce them to nerve-racked, self-doubting men living in a waking nightmare, suspicious of even those closest to them.
“Do you know Assistant Commissioner Cornwallis?” Pitt asked abruptly.
“What?” Cadell was taken by surprise. “No … well … slightly. Belong to the same clubs. See him occasionally. Why? Or should I not ask?”
Did he say that because he knew? Or was it the intelligent guess any man might make in the circumstances? He must think of a noncommittal answer. And he should not betray Tannifer’s confidence. If Cadell was the blackmailer he was cruel enough to exact a vicious revenge.
“He is in charge of the case … ultimately,” he said aloud. “He mentioned the possibility of a political motive.”
“I cannot help you,” Cadell replied wearily. “Believe me, Mr. Pitt, if I knew anything at all which could be of use, and I were free to discuss it with you, I would. I presume I do not have to explain to you that a great deal of the information I have about Africa concerns the government’s plans regarding Mr. Rhodes and the British South Africa Company, and is confidential. So also are all matters to do with the settlement of Mashonaland and Matabeleland, or our relations with other European powers who have interests in the continent of Africa. It would be an act of treason for me to speak of them to you except in the broadest way, which would be of no use to you.”
Pitt realized that there was no purpose in pressing him further, and after thanking Cadell, he took his leave.
Vespasia was walking slowly across her lawn, thinking that it was time it was mown again, when she saw Pitt standing in the open French windows of her sitting room. She was startled to find her breath catching in her throat and her heart racing, fearing what news he might have brought. She walked rapidly towards him, barely leaning on her stick.
“Good evening, Thomas,” she said as soon as he joined her on the grass. She refused to betray her anxiety. “I am afraid the best of the tulips are over. They are beginning to look dreadfully blowsy.”
He smiled in the evening sun, glancing at the heavy roses in full bloom, and the cascade of wisteria, and a few huge, gaudy tulips past their best.
“It looks perf
ect to me.”
She regarded him up and down. She remembered that he liked gardening, when he had the opportunity. “I agree, but perhaps the purist would not.”
He offered her his arm and she took it as they walked slowly back across the grass to the terrace and up the steps.
“I am afraid I have very unpleasant news, Aunt Vespasia,” he said when they were inside and she was seated.
“I can see it in your face, my dear,” she replied. “You had better tell me what it is.”
“Tannifer sent for me today. He also seems to be of the opinion that the blackmailer’s ultimate goal may be to influence African affairs to his own advantage.”
“That is not news, Thomas,” she said a trifle sharply. She had not realized how tense she was. She heard the edge in her own voice. “We had assumed as much,” she continued. “Did he offer any evidence?”
He must have caught her emotion. He came directly to the point. “He mentioned Cadell’s name in two regards, one intentionally, concerning his professional interest in African affairs.”
His face was filled with distress, and it touched her with in creasing fear. She found herself swallowing with an effort, but she did not interrupt.
“The other was accidental, at least as to meaning,” he continued quietly. “He was concerned that Cornwallis might also be a victim, and that thought was prompted by Cadell’s having referred to an incident in Cornwallis’s career which was open to misinterpretation and therefore made him vulnerable.”
For a moment she did not understand. Her concern was for Pitt.
“But Cornwallis said that he saved the man,” she argued. “Does that now make you reconsider his innocence?”
“No.” He shook his head minutely. “It makes me wonder how Cadell knew of it and why he should even consider Cornwallis as a victim.”
Then she understood. A great weight of coldness settled inside her. She dared not think of the tragedy that might lie ahead. She had known Theodosia and cared for her since her birth; she had watched her grow up as she had her own children.
