by Anne Perry
She smiled widely. It was as if she had won.
“And there aren’t any jam tarts in the pantry, anyhow,” Jemima added.
“We ate them yesterday,” Cassie said. “I had two.”
“You had three,” Jemima corrected her, choking back her laughter.
“But you’ve got the idea.” Daniel straightened up. “If you don’t check your facts, you can lose the argument.” He touched her head lightly. Her hair was incredibly soft. “I need to speak to Patrick,” he told Jemima. “Is he still here?”
The amusement vanished from her face. “I assume you’ve come about the case? Checking facts?”
“Yes. Do you know where the papers about Sidney’s embezzlement came from? As in, how did they get to London from the British Embassy, and who gave them to the police?”
“Why? Aren’t they real?” she asked.
“I don’t know. They look real, as far as I can tell.”
“Then what does it matter? If they prove he embezzled money? I don’t understand.” It was clear in her eyes that she didn’t.
“I’ve got to put on a defense, Jem. And Marcus has put Kitteridge onto another case. I’ve got to do it all myself. The first thing to do is find out who brought the papers over to England, and who gave them to the police to prosecute Sidney. Any competent defense would do that. So far, it’s the only weakness in the case. And Sidney says he didn’t embezzle. It’s my job to believe him, for as long as I can.”
She stared at him for several seconds. Cassie moved even closer to her, sensing in the air some sudden tension, a change in the tone of voices. “Are you asking me if Patrick brought them?”
“Did he?”
“No! Of course he didn’t!” There was anger and disgust in her voice. “If we had them at the time we came over, he would simply have given them to the police! He wouldn’t have involved you at all. He doesn’t know any more about them than you do!”
Daniel believed her, and the answer made sense. “But he did know about them,” he continued, “because he was the one who told me the police had arrested Sidney, and asked me to defend him. So that we could somehow raise the issue of the attack on Rebecca and the diamond pendant.”
“That doesn’t mean he caused it to happen! Where would he get them from? How would he even know they existed? You’re not making any sense.”
“How did anybody know they existed?” Daniel continued. “And took a ship leaving New York for Southampton so soon after Sidney, and came straight to the police here? Do you really believe that was all a matter of chance?” His disbelief was strong and bitter.
“No, that would be ridiculous,” she agreed. For the first time, she felt real doubt.
Cassie gripped her mother’s hand tightly.
Daniel saw it. He spoke gently. “It’s something I’ve got to answer, Jem. They didn’t get here on their own, and they weren’t posted. Somebody brought them over. The post would take longer than a courier, especially for as many pages as there are. They go back about three years.”
She looked totally confused. “I’ll ask Patrick. Please, let me do it. He’ll think…”
“What?”
She faced him very squarely. “That it’s the English trying to protect their own, and that’s reasonable. They protected Sidney from the charge of assaulting Rebecca, and that’s much worse.”
“Which English?” he asked. “Me? It has to be an Englishman who got the papers out of the embassy in the first place. What was he doing?”
“Maybe he was the embezzler and he was afraid they’d catch him,” said Jemima. “So he took the chance to blame Sidney for the theft, and everything else. Everybody knew that Sidney had fled here to escape the other charges,” she said reasonably.
“Half of Washington knew that, at least half!” Daniel pointed out.
“Then that’s your answer,” Jemima said. “A motive, a necessity, an opportunity, and the means!”
Cassie looked at Daniel. “Did Mummy win?”
Daniel was about to deny it, then he looked at Cassie’s anxious face. The answer was easy. “I rather think she did,” he replied. “She’s good at it. And actually, it helped me get things straight.”
Cassie smiled directly at him, then turned away, overtaken by a sudden self-consciousness.
Jemima smiled at him, too. “Thank you,” she mouthed.
* * *
—
DANIEL LEFT, HIS mind struggling with the question as to whether Patrick had somehow known about the embezzlement before he left Washington. That led inevitably to the question as to how he could have known of it, if he had no part in seeing that the evidence followed Sidney to England. Daniel believed Patrick when he said he wanted justice, no more. But do you press so hard, and take risks with your own future, if it is merely a case, one in which you have no personal investment? Daniel had had many cases, and fought them all to the best of his ability. But in some, ability was stumped, and lack of it kept you awake at night, and invaded all the rest of your life.
Why was Daniel defending Sidney? Was he also defending the British Embassy from the accusation of foreigners? It shouldn’t make any difference, should it? It was the uncovering of the truth that mattered.
So why was he striding down Keppel Street with his fists clenched, trying to avoid facing Patrick, hurting Jemima, and confusing that little girl whom he had met only three times and already cared about so much?
He caught a bus on the Tottenham Court Road and made his way to Blackwell’s house. If either Blackwell or Mercy were at home, it would be their lunchtime. They would offer him some, they always did. He would accept, and then explain himself.
* * *
—
IT WAS AN excellent meal.
Lamb chops; the freshest of peas, as mild and delicate as possible, with a little mint and plenty of butter; and boiled potatoes. Daniel would far rather eat than talk, and he did, putting the discussion off as long as possible.
“Come on!” Blackwell said at last, when there were no more potatoes or peas left.
“Tea?” Mercy said, rising to her feet. “Cake?” She did not bother to wait for his answer—it was always the same.
Daniel was going to offer to clear away the dishes, but Blackwell gripped his arm, and he sank back in the chair.
“What’s happened?” Blackwell demanded. “Don’t lie! It’s bad, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know,” Daniel replied, more or less honestly. “But I do know that if I don’t mount the very best legal defense possible, Marcus will fire me. And when I look at it honestly, he should. It’s…it’s so easy to be partisan.”
Blackwell looked straight at him. “Philip Sidney didn’t do it, did he?”
“I don’t know. I really don’t know.” This time he was totally honest. “And that goes for both assaulting Rebecca Thorwood and embezzling money from the British Embassy. And it’s not because I like him, or because I don’t want an Englishman to have done that, but because the whole thing doesn’t make any sense…yet.”
“And you like your sister’s husband, and you love her. She’s been your sister all your life,” Blackwell went on. “And you can’t make sense of it.”
“Yes.”
“What does Sidney say?”
“That he didn’t do any of it, which is what most accused people say, to begin with. Either that, or they insist they were justified. The blame is always somebody else’s. But Sidney’s no help, because he has no idea who has done these things, or why,” Daniel admitted. “And you’re right. It doesn’t seem to fit with his past behavior, or his reputation. Not that that means a whole lot.”
“What else?” Blackwell asked.
“The papers showing the embezzlement come from the British Embassy in Washington. A man called Morley Cross compiled the evidence. It’s all personal expenses
and bookkeeping. It’s only a hundred pounds that’s gone, over a period of time.”
“Not exactly ambitious,” Blackwell observed.
“That’s probably why he wasn’t caught for three years.”
“Or because he wasn’t doing it!” Blackwell said.
“Yes.”
“Did the real thief forge Sidney’s name?”
“Probably, yes. But it’s a mighty coincidence if the embezzlement just happened to come to light the same time that Sidney ran away from the accusation by Thorwood,” Daniel pointed out.
“Not if the real thief was looking for somebody else to blame. Then the timing is perfect. He’d stopped taking the little bits of money, and no one would go on looking for him,” Blackwell answered.
Daniel thought hard. “Or it’s not really about the money. It’s only ever been about blaming Sidney for something he didn’t do, to get rid of him, out of the embassy? Or to blame him for this to achieve something else? A position, possibly. A promotion several people are up for?” He realized with surprise how easily he had moved into defending Sidney, as if he really believed him innocent.
“Precisely,” Blackwell agreed. “I have a feeling, Daniel, that there is possibly something bigger here than we have realized: bigger, and a great deal uglier. What are you going to do next? Get it in order.” He held up one broad hand, and counted finger by finger. “Find out exactly where those receipts and invoices came from, what department of the embassy? When were they last seen there? Who had worked there then? How did Morley Cross get hold of them? And has anyone questioned him? And then, who brought them from Washington to London, via New York, and when? Very important, that! When did that person leave Washington? When did he leave New York? When he got to London, who did he see? Lawyers? Police?”
Daniel sat still. “I know that part.”
“What?” Blackwell asked. “Do you really?”
“Yes. It’s what Patrick has to do with this,” Daniel said unhappily. “He knew of the embezzlement as soon as Sidney was charged. I want to know how, I probably do…”
“The Thorwoods,” Blackwell said quietly.
“Yes.”
“And Patrick is acting for them?”
“I suppose so. I’ve got to find out a lot more about how they know each other. Not exactly the same social circles. Jemima said they became acquainted over a job Patrick did for them previously.”
“Tread softly. Or let me do it. I don’t have ways yet, but Mercy does.”
“For getting information from Washington?” Daniel said doubtfully.
“Not up-to-date,” Blackwell admitted. “But to the beginning of this year, at least. America is not that far away, not to certain classes of person: the rich, the political, those in trade, especially certain kinds of trade. And people don’t often change suddenly. Or have pasts beyond digging out. The source of all things almost certainly lies in the past, if you just know where to look. You find out how those documents got from the British Embassy in Washington to the police in London. That’s the first thing to unravel.”
Daniel rose to his feet reluctantly, his smile a bit less twisted. “Thank you, Roman.”
“You have a better idea?”
“No,” Daniel replied. “If I had, I’d be following it.”
Blackwell walked with him to the door. “Do your best, Daniel—for your own sake. It’s too early to make big decisions. You don’t know the half of it yet.”
CHAPTER
Ten
DANIEL DID NOT want to do any of the things Roman Blackwell had advised, but he knew they were all unavoidable. First, he must face the one he dreaded the most. If he did it badly, repercussions could last indefinitely. Even the idea of it hurt. During her four years away, he had forgotten how big a part of his life his friendship with Jemima had been. It was safe, funny, honest. It had survived all kinds of quarrels, hard times growing up, facing dilemmas, struggles to understand and accept adulthood, separation, responsibility. She would be affected deeply by how this turned out—what it exposed that would change the things she loved.
Daniel had known Cassie a matter of days, but he was already enchanted. To have her think of him as an enemy, someone who had hurt her mother and father, would be acutely painful. He had already seen that shadow in her eyes when she thought he was distressing her mother.
Charlotte and Thomas would understand, but they would still be hurt.
Being brave was so easily put into words. The reality offered only pain.
No use thinking about it. Do it!
He found Patrick at Keppel Street in the afternoon sun in the garden, casually pulling weeds and enjoying the sun. Cassie was lying on a rug, sound asleep, arms and legs spread, a stuffed toy dog beside her. Daniel glanced at her as he stood at the open French doors. He walked out and onto the path, then across the grass. He passed the sandpit, dim memories of playing in it slipping him through time for an instant. He knew every inch of this garden.
Patrick saw him and rubbed his hands on the grass before standing up. “Sorry. Still too dirty to shake.” He smiled.
Daniel wanted to stop and pull weeds with him. He even entertained the idea for a split second. He smiled back, a little twistedly. “I need to talk to you—get a bit of advice.”
“Come this way.” Patrick moved a dozen yards to the other end of the lawn and sat down, adjusting his position so he was still looking at Cassie. “About the case, I guess.”
“Wish it wasn’t,” Daniel said, sitting facing him. “But we must do it well, for all sorts of reasons. Practically, it won’t work if we don’t, and morally we’ll neither of us be happy if we cut corners or tell half-truths. And it could get appealed! And dishonesty—”
Patrick held up his hands. “Did nobody teach you one argument of proof is good, ten makes you suspect them all?”
“Yes. Frequently,” Daniel admitted. “But a chain of evidence is as strong as its weakest link.”
Patrick shook his head. “Get to it, man! What is it?”
“It’s about these documents relating to the missing money, which Sidney signed,” Daniel replied. “It certainly seems to be his signature. That isn’t a problem. Thing is, we know who handed them over, but who compiled them at the British Embassy and why? And who brought them across the Atlantic and gave them to the British police, and why? Why now?”
Patrick stared at him.
“I care, because I need to question him,” Daniel explained. “That’s about the only defense Sidney’s got. And we have to defend him. Apart from the fact that every man deserves a defense, if we don’t make a good job of it, it’ll look connived at, and grounds for appeal—”
“Of course,” Patrick interrupted. “I’m not trying to ruin your career!” He looked surprised, even hurt. “I don’t rightly know if he’s guilty of the embezzlement. But if he could assault Rebecca and steal the pendant, that’s probably not the only rotten thing he’s done and got away with. Jem doesn’t want to raise the assault at all. She thinks it will only hurt Rebecca more in the future. Maybe it would be enough to convict him of the embezzlement.” He frowned. “Tobias wants it all brought in…but I’m not sure. If it were my daughter, I think I’d…” He looked over at where Cassie was still asleep on the rug in the grass.
“You’d kill him,” Daniel said, only half joking.
“Probably,” Patrick agreed. “If Jem didn’t get there first.”
Daniel waited a moment or two. “Turn her over,” he suggested. “She could get a little burned. Sun is hot today.”
Patrick got to his feet and did as Daniel had suggested, moving Cassie very gently, so as not to wake her. He came back and sat down. “I don’t know the answer to any of these questions,” he said. “But I’m pretty sure the truth lies with a man in the embassy in Washington named Morley Cross. He may well be able to tell you something of w
hat happened to the papers after they left him.” He hesitated a moment. “I am still in touch with people in the Washington police department by wire. There can’t be many ships docked from America in the right time period. It has to be after Sidney left, or the papers wouldn’t have come here after him. And before the police arrested him, because that gave them cause. How will that help?”
“Not sure. But Kitteridge wired the Washington police to check into this Morley Cross. When we find out who he passed those papers to, to bring them to London, we could learn a lot more. At least we’ll look as if we’re really trying. Good idea in court to know the answers before you ask the questions.”
“Do you think you can defend Sidney…I mean, get him off?”
“If the prosecutor is halfway competent, I will not be able to get him off if he’s guilty.” Daniel met Patrick’s eyes squarely and saw him wince, but there was no evasion in them. Some of his fear melted away, but then a different part of him knotted up. He liked Patrick. It would hurt very much if, somehow, he had rigged this.
* * *
—
DANIEL NEXT REPORTED to Marcus fford Croft and told him all the progress he had made so far.
“Humph,” Marcus said, looking at him narrowly. “I’m not watching you that closely, Pitt. Why are you explaining this to me now, to be precise?”
Daniel had the strong feeling that Marcus knew exactly why he was doing it, he just wanted to see if Daniel had the nerve to tell him.
“Well?” Marcus demanded.
“Because I need to see someone high enough up in the diplomatic service to take the next step in finding out about those documents,” he replied. “Whether they’re real or forged, they came out of the embassy in Washington and landed in London at exactly the right time to convict Sidney. It may all be coincidence, but I don’t believe that. And if the prosecution is going to succeed, they need to prove it.”
“You really are trying to defend him, aren’t you!” Marcus raised his eyebrows. “Good! I was not looking forward to having to tell your father I couldn’t keep you anymore.”
