A Lesson in Secrets_ A Maisie Dobbs Novel - Jacqueline Winspear [132]
“I thought you might like some books.” Maisie placed a parcel tied with string on the table. “They went through them at the desk; fortunately, none were of much interest to the guards.”
Roth reached forward, unpicked the string, and squinted at the titles. “Ah, a very good mix, Miss Dobbs, though I have to request my spectacles each time I wish to read. My niece brought me in a similar package last week—I must say, her taste differs from mine.”
Maisie smiled. “I won’t ask how you’re feeling, Dr. Roth. This isn’t the most convivial place, but if there’s anything you need, please send word. I have contacts . . . ”
“Yes, of course.” He rewrapped the books and sighed. “I wish I could turn back time, Miss Dobbs. I have had time—an irony, of course—to consider time itself, and those small, almost inconsequential decisions that lead to something terrible, that change the path of one’s life in a dreadful way. I have wondered why fate chose that particular moment for me to walk down to Greville’s office so that we could discuss timetabling of classes when the new building gets under way.” He began to ramble, as if still trying to make sense of his decision. “You see, it was clear that it would all be a bit chaotic if we didn’t have a plan in place, and Greville was quite absentminded at times—the running of the college wasn’t as interesting to him as the content of the classes, and understandably so. He was an avatar of hope, not a mere administrator.” He shook his head. “Had I not been there, I would not have heard the row. I would never have known the truth.” He looked up at the ceiling and bit his lip as tears welled up and ran down his cheeks.
Maisie said nothing, but reached out and placed her hand on his. He grasped hers in turn, as if for strength.
“I changed my whole life for Greville Liddicote. I saw men alter the course of their lives because they read his words—men died because they chose not to fight after reading his words. His words.” He shook his head. “I gave him my life savings, and I believed in every word he said, but . . . but they were not his words after all. In that second outside his office, I realized that . . . that we’d all been had. Duped. I’d been taken for the fool I was. This man whom I revered had been no more than a liar, a cheat, a charlatan. He was no better than a common thief. I felt as if my heart would beat from my chest. There was this . . . ” He pulled back his hand as if describing a funnel of emotion rising up through his body. “This . . . emergence of something I cannot describe. I opened the door and I went straight to him and I took his head in my hands, and I killed him.”
Maisie felt the ache of despair emanating from the man before her. She had heard the guilty speak of their crimes before, but she, too, wished she could turn back time, could stop Roth from walking along the corridor to Greville Liddicote’s office.
“They taught some of us man-to-man combat in the war, you know. I learned how to kill. But I never thought I would kill in such a way. When you go to war, you wield a rifle, but you hope you never have to look into the face of the man whose life you take. When I entered his room, Greville was sitting there, gazing at something—I believe it was a photograph—and the next moment, he was dead.” Roth stared into Maisie’s eyes. “Seven minutes later, I was back in my office, and I had hardly any recollection of what had happened. It was as if I had woken from a very bad dream and could claim back my real life. But I couldn’t. I had killed a man of peace—and at a time when there is so much to fear.”
“So much to fear?”
“You know. You were at the debate. You saw Robson Headley—and my niece. I was shocked. And in that moment of clarity, when Headley stood before us with his misguided rhetoric and his arm raised, I knew what Greville had seen and I had not. I fear our efforts to bring a more widespread peace through the mutual experience