Angels in the Gloom_ A Novel - Anne Perry [138]
“Joseph? Shanley has asked me to speak with you. He sounds terribly ill, and he won’t tell me what is wrong. He says that he has some information about an enemy in the Establishment. I suppose he must be referring to whomever murdered poor Theo Blaine.” Now the anger in her was very forceful. “I think that Shanley has realized who it is that is betraying us to the Germans. He dare not trust anyone except you. He says he cannot even speak to Matthew, and you will know why, but it is extremely urgent. You have to go to him, Joseph. He sounds dreadful. I’ve never heard him like this before.” Her voice dropped. “I think it must be someone he is very fond of, someone he really trusted. Disillusion is one of the most painful of all human experiences, especially for a man like Shanley, who cares for people so much. Please go immediately, Joseph. Promise me?”
She spoke of disillusion! What searing irony. It was the very last thing he wanted to do. There was nothing to say, nothing to add except recriminations, and excuses neither of them would believe.
Was it conceivable that Corcoran knew anything about information going from the Establishment to the Germans? From whom? Ben Morven? There was nothing new in that. Surely naval intelligence would get everything from him that there was?
Or could it be that Corcoran knew something that Morven would never betray?
He did not believe it. But he would go, not for Corcoran to tell him anything from naval intelligence, but because he wanted to look at Corcoran again and see if he could understand how he had been so blind all these years to the truth of him. Had the weakness always been there? How had he missed it? What did he really understand of human good or evil if he misread a man so close to him so badly?
And had his father been so blind as well? Had he chosen not to see, or not to believe it? Should the deepest friendship close its eyes deliberately? Was that what loyalty was, or ought to be?
He was standing at the telephone in the hall. Everyone else was in the kitchen. He could smell bread baking.
“Yes,” he said, clearing his throat. “Yes. Of course I’ll go. I imagine they will let me in. Where is he?”
There was a moment’s silence. “Don’t you know? Shanley said you did!”
“No, I don’t. But I imagine I can find out. It may not be today, but I’ll go.”
“Thank you.” She did not press him or ask him to swear or promise. She believed his word. It made him feel worse.
It took him several telephone calls and a lot of waiting before finally someone in Admiral Hall’s office told him where Corcoran was, and gave him permission to visit because he was an ordained chaplain in the army. Corcoran would not be permitted a civilian lawyer, but he would be allowed a military one, and the military priest of his choice. Apparently that was Joseph. A car would pick him up the following afternoon, and return him afterward. He was to speak of it to no one, most particularly not to Orla Corcoran. Joseph gave his word; it was a condition of the visit. And he was to wear uniform so there could be no misunderstanding of his status.
The countryside was glorious, dappled sunshine over the fields, hedges still white with blossom, trees billowing in the wind, their skirts flying. There were shire horses leaning into the harrow, necks bent. Clouds piled up, scudding away in long mare’s tails, like spindrift off the sea. For once he did not see it.
It was a long journey and he lost sense of direction, except that it was generally toward London. It took over two hours. When he finally arrived at the building, he found it was an old prison made of stone and smelling as if it was always wet. It seemed to carry with it the darkness of old griefs, bitterness, and lost dreams.
Joseph identified himself again, and was taken inside.
“I have been told to allow you an hour, Chaplain, but it will only be this once,” the officer in charge told him. “I don’t know what he’s here for, but it’s very serious. You must give him nothing, and take nothing from him. Do you understand?”
“Yes. I’ve seen military