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The Blood Royal(124)

By:Barbara Cleverly


Lily looked away.

Joe’s grimace of a smile showed his discomfort. ‘Better the fool you know, I suppose. Keep in place the gullible young idiot you already hold in the palm of your hand …’

‘No! Loyal and gallant friend! She exploited you, sir, but the blame is entirely hers. Who wouldn’t want you in their corner? I would.’

Her innocent support surprised him. ‘Shall we agree, then, not to be too hard on ourselves? They’re both considerable performers.’

‘I can’t wait to see the act they put on for Sir Archibald at the Old Bailey. He’ll see through them. And there’s one thing you got right, isn’t there?’

‘Oh, yes?’

‘Your Morrigan. At least Cassandra has red hair.’

‘Indeed she has.’ He fell silent, waiting for her next inevitable challenge.

‘Who are you going to detail to arrest them?’ she asked carefully. ‘Not an enviable duty. Have you decided what you’re going to do?’

‘It’s been decided for me. And it’s absolutely nothing, Wentworth. Abso—’

‘Absolutely bugger all, sir?’

He smiled and glanced again at the telephone. ‘I had a conversation with the Commissioner. I told you I’d had a rough morning. I apprised him of my suspicions; I told him where the investigation was leading. Ten minutes later I find I have the Home Secretary himself on the telephone. I’ve – we’ve – been well and truly gagged, Wentworth. As you remind me, no one wanted to stomach a political assassination, but since the two miscreants had been arrested and a confession extracted before their guns were cold, it was thought that at least this redounded to the credit of the forces of law and order. It was neat, Wentworth. The papers went to town in a froth of support for two English heroes – an admiral fighting, sword against bullet, on his doorstep, a brave London cabby fighting for his life in hospital – they liked it. It rallied the troops. They were pleased to hear a much-needed patriotic hurrah from the nation’s throat.’

‘And with an election imminent,’ Lily said grumpily, ‘and the men of the country rushing to the polling booth to support a strong party …’

‘And the certainty of swift retribution. A good hanging is always appreciated by the British rabble, let’s not forget that.’

‘A double hanging being irresistible.’

They were doing a lot of agreeing, echoing each other’s thoughts. Joe paused. He knew he was about to shatter the appearance of concord.

‘But the second scenario I was putting before them – one English war hero gunning down another, Royal Air Force and Royal Navy at each other’s throat, the threat of famous names splashed across the front pages, a grieving widow to be paraded before the courts, two fine Navy sons and their careers dragged into the mire by the whole thing … Well, you can imagine how the blue pencil came out for that lot. And to top it all – we now discover that the royal family is about to attend the victim’s funeral … be photographed lavishing condolences on the man’s killers. It’s all too much for the public to be burdened with at this politically sensitive time. The National Character would be called into question, apparently. Englishness put in the pillory. Lloyd George himself has made his views clear.’

‘So a Welshman, in the interests of preserving the English reputation, is prepared to make a pair of Irish lads take the rap for the whole nasty business?’

He looked at her sharply, skewering her to her chair with a stare as focused as a thrown lance.

‘Sorry, sir. That must have sounded prissy.’

‘Prissy? I’d have said hectoring and indisciplined.’

Having delivered his shot, Joe lapsed into uneasy silence. He’d asked for this. Lily was doing no more than putting a sharp point on views he held himself. If he’d been sitting over there on the other side of the desk, he’d have been making much the same noises of protest. Throughout this business he’d encouraged her to speak her mind, invited her to share her thoughts with him as an equal. In his self-critical mood, Joe feared his motives were less honourable. He’d made use of the girl. He’d required her, in her bright independence of mind, to question, evaluate but ultimately endorse his actions. It was with a belated clarity that he saw again the relationship that had existed between himself and his mentor in India. Sir George, in his deviousness, his unshakeable belief in the rightness of the country he served, had been exasperating. His smoothly engineered solutions to moral problems had left Joe open mouthed and spluttering objections.