At Some Disputed Barricade_ A Novel - Anne Perry [15]
Matthew felt the anger grow within him. If the man really was innocent, it was appalling. “I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. “How can Intelligence help you? Do you know who is behind it?”
Corracher’s eyes reflected an emotional exhaustion that was crippling. “If you mean names, I have no idea,” he replied. “I don’t believe there is anything you can do. I’m not seeking your help, Major Reavley, I am giving you information. I am not the only person to whom this has happened. Other men with views inconvenient to some have left office for one reason or another. Kemp was killed in a zeppelin raid last autumn. Newell resigned, no real reason given. And Wheatcroft is threatened with a scandal which will destroy his life.”
Suddenly Matthew’s attention was total. A coldness settled inside him. In the instance of Wheatcroft, he knew exactly what Corracher was referring to; word of it had crossed Matthew’s desk. Alan Wheatcroft had been accused of acts of gross indecency with another man much younger than himself. It had not been proved, and he had protested his innocence, but whether anyone believed him was almost irrelevant. When the accusation became widely disseminated, as inevitably it would, his career would be finished.
“What views did the other three have?” he asked. The belief that he knew was not sufficient.
Corracher smiled bitterly. “Kemp’s sister married a Belgian. All her family was killed in the first German advance. He wants crippling reparations. Newell was something of an expert in Russian affairs. Wheatcroft is different.” A flicker of puzzlement lit his eyes for a moment. “I’m not sure what interest he would be to anyone else. Maybe there’s something about him I don’t know.”
Matthew’s mind was racing. Had the Peacemaker been alive he would have seen a pattern in it, but Hannassey was dead. Matthew had seen his body crushed beyond recognition. Nothing could have survived that impact.
“Do you understand me, Major Reavley?” Corracher said quietly, leaning forward across the desk a little, his hands clenched white.
“Yes,” Matthew answered, drawing his attention back. “Yes, I do, Mr. Corracher. I can look into the other cases, but tell me about yours.” He was aware that it would be difficult for Corracher, and embarrassing, but he could not investigate without the facts.
Corracher was very pale and his hands were locked till the knuckles were white.
“It is extremely sordid,” he said huskily. “I am actually being charged with blackmail.”
Matthew was startled. “You mean someone is saying that you are a blackmailer? Not that you are being blackmailed…”
“That’s right.” Two spots of color stained Corracher’s cheeks.
“Who is saying this?”
Corracher bit his lip. “Mrs. Wheatcroft.”
“Mrs. Wheatcroft?” Matthew was incredulous. “Alan Wheatcroft’s wife? For God’s sake, why? Hasn’t she got more than enough trouble already?”
“That’s it.” Corracher all but swallowed his words. “She is saying that I blackmailed Alan after creating the situation with which he was charged. He claims it never existed in reality. I set it up in order to take money from him.” He stared at Matthew with desperation. “I can see how his wife would wish that that were true, but it is not. I knew nothing at all about it until the police accused me! I was as shocked as anyone.”
“Do you imagine that Wheatcroft told her that?” Matthew asked. His pity for Corracher was intense, but far greater than for any one man