At Some Disputed Barricade_ A Novel - Anne Perry [48]
“My men are not cowards!” Hook said furiously, his thin body stiff, the color rising in his haggard face. “And deeply as I regret the death of your son, sir, I will not tolerate any man, of any rank, saying that they are. That is inexcusable, even in grief.”
Northrup glared back at him. “If they murdered my son in cold blood, then they are worse than cowards, sir. They are traitors!” His voice trembled. “And I will see every last one of them shot. Do you defy me, Colonel Hook?”
Hook was shaking. “No, sir, I charge you to make your accusations after they are proved, and to treat my men with the honor they deserve unless and until that time.”
“Then prove it!” Northrup’s voice was close to a shout. “Don’t hide behind your chaplain’s protection. Institute a proper inquiry.”
“By whom?” Hook could not keep the sarcasm from his tone. “I have no fighting men to spare…sir! Captain Reavley is the best man to do it. He is both liked and trusted, and he has known most of these men since they joined up. If anyone can find the truth and prove it, he can!”
“I want military police,” Northrup replied, gulping. “The chaplain is not qualified to investigate murder, and his profession makes it impossible either to be practical and insist that men speak to him and answer his questions, or that he should repeat what they say if they do. He might very well learn the exact truth, with a confession, and be unable to act on it.”
“That’s my answer, General Northrup,” Hook told him. “If you want to take it to the general in command of the Ypres Salient, then you must do so. I think it extremely unlikely he will spare men at the moment to investigate any front line soldiers on the possibility that there may, or may not, have been a crime, when there is no evidence beyond some ugly talk.”
“We’ll see,” Northrup retorted, rising to his feet. His face was ashen but for the flaming spots of color in his cheeks.
“Sir!” Joseph stood up, turning toward Northrup and barring his way out. “Major Northrup was very new to this section of the front. He made some bad decisions, specifically sending men out across no-man’s-land to look for wounded or dead when the weather and visibility made it recklessly dangerous. No one was rescued, and Lieutenant Eardslie, a well-liked and decorated officer, was killed. I would rather not have told you that. All men make mistakes, but this was a particularly foolish one, and he was told by the experienced men here that it was wrong, but he wouldn’t listen.”
Northrup was shaking; his whole body trembled. He stared wordlessly at Joseph, grief and incredulity naked in his face.
Joseph was furious with him and pitied him at the same time. It was a uniquely painful conflict within him.
“If I investigate his death, sir,” he continued, “I shall bring my findings to Colonel Hook, and any stories that are unnecessary to repeat, I shall make no written record of, and repeat them to no one. I think it would be wiser, and fairer, if we were to learn all we can before we make any decisions at all.”
Northrup stood silently for so long that Joseph thought he was not going to answer, then finally he spoke. His voice was hoarse, little above a whisper.
“Do so. But I will see my son’s name cleared, and if any man in the British Army, whatever his rank or his record, had a part in his death, I will see that man shot, and alongside him anyone who defends him or lies for him.” He snapped to attention, then before anyone else could speak, he strode the three steps to the entrance and went out.
“Thank you, Reavley,” Hook said with intense feeling. “For God’s sake, be careful what you find. We’re losing thousands of men a day to the Germans, or to the bloody rain. The men are on their last legs. Most of them will be killed anyway. The French weren’t cowards; they were just driven beyond human endurance. But Northrup looks readier to face a firing squad himself than see the truth, God forgive him.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll