Angels in the Gloom_ A Novel - Anne Perry [105]
If he changed his mind now he would be letting Hannah down, but whatever he did he would be letting someone down. It was not that Tom’s opinion of him mattered more than hers, and he would have to make her understand that it was his own opinion. This quiet village with its ancient church, its graveyard where his parents were buried, its vast trees and sunlit fields, its domestic lives, its quarrels, was infinitely precious. The only way to help it was not to cling, but to be willing to let go, to give, not to take.
Kerr was looking at him, waiting for the acknowledgment he needed.
“I have no doubt of that,” Joseph said sincerely. “And it will be enough. But don’t be afraid of failure. No one wins all the time. If you win most of it you will have done a great thing.” He took Kerr’s hand and gripped it hard before turning away and walking down the path to the lych-gate and onto the road.
Archie was reading the newspaper in the sitting room when Joseph burst in. “Can you drive me to the Establishment, now, to see Ben Morven?”
“This afternoon?” Archie said in disbelief.
“Sorry,” Joseph apologized. “It can’t wait.”
“You think it’s Morven?” Archie still looked doubtful.
“I don’t know. I can’t afford to take the risk that it isn’t.”
“And he’ll kill Corcoran as soon as he’s sure the prototype is complete?” Archie’s whole attention was engaged now.
Joseph was confused. He had wrestled with the thoughts, turning them over and over in his mind. He would far rather have come to a different conclusion. He had liked Ben, but the theory fitted too well: the brilliant boy growing up where he could see and taste plenty of anger and social injustice, attending a university where suddenly the whole world expanded before him with its infinite opportunities and where thought had a power close to God! Joseph had seen it in so many young men, the passion of idealism overwhelming patience and caution. Words of warning infuriated where pain was seen on a vast scale, and a solution beckoned.
A man like the Peacemaker would find recruits there so easily. Joseph had experienced it before at St. John’s. It was happening again, it was bound to, as long as there were young men with dreams, and powerful men willing to use them.
Last time the price had been John Reavley’s life. This time it could be Shanley Corcoran’s. The difference was that now Joseph could see it, and stop it.
“Probably,” he answered Archie’s question. “He has no need to keep him alive once it’s finished.”
Archie was still hesitant.
“He killed Theo Blaine!” Joseph said with bitter regret. “He tore his throat out with a garden fork. Why wouldn’t he kill Shanley?”
“He would,” Archie conceded. “We’d better go. Are you going to tell Hannah why?”
“No . . . at least . . .” Joseph was uncertain. “I’ll tell her it’s to do with Blaine’s death, then at least she’ll know why you have to go. I can’t ask Mrs. Blaine to drive me again.”
“I’ll borrow Bibby Nunn’s car. It’s not exactly elegant, but it goes. I’ll see you in half an hour. I suppose Shanley will be at home?”
“If he isn’t, we’ll wait,” Joseph replied simply.
They spoke of other things as they drove—memories, family affairs, nothing of the war. Joseph had wondered whether to say anything of Hannah’s desire to know more of Archie’s life at sea, and decided it was up to her whether or not she asked further. Any intrusion might be clumsy, and apart from that, if what she learned was more than she afterward wanted to bear, then it must be of her own choosing.
Orla Corcoran was surprised to see Joseph on the step. Archie had decided to remain in the car, possibly to walk a