Angels in the Gloom_ A Novel - Anne Perry [22]
The passion of the man opposite was quite different. He was Irish, and the freedom of his country and its independence from Britain dominated every other emotion he felt, and justified all acts that served its end. But they could use each other, and both knew it.
The subject under discussion was money, which the Irishman was going to use to continue his bribery of union officials in Pittsburgh and in the East Coast docks of America to sabotage the munitions destined for the Allies.
“No more than five thousand,” the Peacemaker said flatly.
“Six,” the other man answered. He was unimpressive to look at, the kind of man no one would notice in a crowd, average in height and build, nondescript of coloring and ordinary of feature. He was capable of a score of appearances depending upon his stance and expression, and the clothes he wore. That was part of his genius. He came and went as he chose, and no one remembered him. Another gift was his almost flawless memory.
The Peacemaker replied with a single word. “Why?” He did not like the Irishman, nor did he trust him, and lately he had become too demanding. Unless he proved himself more valuable than he had so far, he would have to be disposed of. And since he had a great deal of knowledge, that disposal must be final.
“You want to stop the American munitions reaching England safely?” the Irishman asked, almost without inflection. He had no accent; he had deliberately eradicated the soft music of his native burr. It was part of his anonymity, and he had learned never to let it slip.
In contrast to him, the Peacemaker was highly memorable, a man whose dynamic appearance and extraordinary character no one forgot.
“And keep your very considerable interest in Mexico?” the Irishman continued. “It takes money.”
The Peacemaker had a strong suspicion that many of the guns in question, as well as the ammunition for them, were going to end up in Ireland, but just at the moment that was less important. “I do,” he answered. “It is in both our interests.”
“Then I need six thousand,” the Irishman told him. His face was expressionless, as if he were afraid of letting any fear or need show itself, anything at all that could be used against him. “For the moment,” he added. “We have to have men on all the ships, and they are taking a considerable risk planting smoke bombs in the holds. If they get caught they’ll likely be shot. I can’t rely on anyone doing that for love, or hate. We need at the least to guarantee that their families will be taken care of.”
The Peacemaker did not argue. He must handle this with exactly the right mixture of skepticism and generosity. Their goals were different, just how different he did not yet wish the other man to appreciate. He knew that his aim was a free and independent Ireland, and a touch of revenge thrown in would add to the savor.
The Peacemaker’s purpose was an Anglo-German Empire that would lay peace not only on warring Europe, but upon the entire world, such as the British Empire had across Africa, India, Burma, the Far East, and the islands of the sea. This would be greater. It would end the strife that had torn apart the cradle of Western civilization for the last thousand years. Europe and Russia would belong to Germany; Africa was to be divided. The rest, including the United States of America, would be Britain’s. They would have the best of the art and science and the richest culture in the world. There would be safety, prosperity, and the values of free exchange, law, medicine, and literacy for everyone. The price would be obedience. That was a fact in the nature of men and of nations. Those who did not obey willingly would have to be forced, for the sake of the vast majority whose lives would be enriched and who would be more than willing, eager to grasp such moral and social wealth.
Naturally, Ireland was included, and would have no more independence than it did now. It was by nature and geography part of the British Isles. But of course he would say nothing