Angels in the Gloom_ A Novel - Anne Perry [89]
Corcoran was stiff, as if the idea froze him in horror.
Joseph felt a moment’s guilt for having mentioned it. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.
Corcoran did not move and when he spoke his voice was hoarse. “Not your fault, my dear fellow. Did you say Mrs. Neave saw a man coming out of the woods? Was it light enough to tell?”
Joseph was aware of his own clumsiness. “No, she said not. But he was in a state of considerable distress. He was sick, and then he relieved himself. That was the point at which she realized that he was without question a man. Until then she had assumed it was a woman, perhaps because it was a woman’s bicycle.”
Corcoran’s face was almost blank. It seemed the idea was too ugly for him to grasp it.
“Shanley?” Joseph moved closer to him, suddenly anxious.
Corcoran turned slowly. “What a dreadful time we live in, Joseph,” he said softly. “I knew about Blaine’s affair, and God forgive me, but I hoped it was only that old evil of jealousy that had spurred this awful action. To tell you the truth, I thought Blaine had seen sense and ended it. Mrs. Lucas is a woman of intense and rather selfish appetite. I assumed she had lost all control of herself and in a fit of jealousy had struck at poor Blaine.” He closed his eyes as if he could block out the idea. “It is peculiarly disgusting, and perhaps I wronged her in allowing the thought into my mind.” He looked guilty and profoundly regretful. “I suppose it is what I wanted to think. It seemed . . . more ordinary. Not a new threat, if you see what I mean?”
“Yes, of course I do.”
“But you say it was a man?” He still looked as if he were hoping Joseph might be in some doubt.
“Yes. And I suppose when you consider the way in which Blaine was killed, it would be remarkable if a woman could have achieved it. The strength necessary . . .” He trailed off. The thought was repulsive.
Corcoran’s mouth tightened in distaste, pulling his lips crooked. “Women can be strong, Joseph. If she was driven by rage, and she took him by surprise. A garden fork, you said?”
“Yes.”
“She could have struck him with it first.” He swung an imaginary weapon in his hands. “And then . . .” He could not finish. He closed his eyes and shuddered at what his inner vision showed him.
“I should think that is what happened,” Joseph agreed. “Actually Perth picked up the fork and did the same thing. It nicked his skin.” He held up his hand and showed Corcoran where.
Corcoran imitated his gesture, looking at his own unblemished skin. He had good hands, strong and well formed. Joseph remembered how they always seemed to be warm.
“Dacy Lucas?” he asked aloud.
Corcoran shook his head. “I thought so, Joseph, but I was deceiving myself. I fear very deeply that it has nothing to do with Blaine’s unfortunate lapse from morality. I have to think he was killed because someone believed he was on the verge of making a breakthrough in scientific discovery which would blaze the way for a totally different era of naval warfare, and would unquestionably win the war at sea for Britain.”
Joseph felt a coldness as if the fields in the long light of evening had suddenly been mantled in snow. The world he loved was slipping out of his grasp like water through his fingers. No strength of passion or grief could hold on to it.
“We’ll have to finish it without him!” Corcoran said abruptly. “Work harder.” He turned till his face shone like bronze in the light. “I’m almost there. Believe me, Joseph, it will be a turning point in history. Future generations will look back on this summer in Cambridgeshire as the beginning of a new age. I only have”—he lifted his shoulders slightly—“a little way to go. A few more steps. If only they give me time!” Then he shivered and fear touched his eyes before he turned away again.
“Shanley!” Joseph reached toward him.
“No, no!” Corcoran denied