Bedford Square - Anne Perry [115]
He was watching Pitt now, waiting for him to make his point.
“You have considerable interest and responsibility in African affairs,” Pitt continued. “Particularly in the exploration of such areas as Mashonaland and Matabeleland.”
“I am concerned with relations with other European powers who have interests in the area,” Cadell corrected slightly. “Germany, in particular, is also concerned in East Africa. The situation is far more sensitive than perhaps you are aware. The potential for making vast amounts of money is immense. Most of the population of South Africa is not British but Boer, and their feeling towards Britain is not kindly—nor, I fear, in any way to be relied upon.” He watched Pitt’s face as he spoke, trying to gauge his understanding. “Mr. Rhodes is a law unto himself. Dearly as we would wish it, we have little control over him.”
Pitt was unwilling to allow Cadell to know too much of his thoughts. Perhaps the knowledge Tannifer had given him was his only advantage. However smooth a face a blackmailer wore, he was a ruthless man without scruples as to whom he hurt, or how deeply. It would seem he enjoyed the taste of his own power. The ruin of Guy Stanley would suggest as much.
He looked steadily at Cadell. “If you were to be asked by the blackmailer, Mr. Cadell, what would be within your ability to do to serve his ends, were he interested in African expansion, a private fortune in that country, or perhaps domination of a Cape-to-Cairo railroad?”
Cadell was startled. “Good God! Is that what you think he wants?”
Was it the idea which shocked him or Pitt’s perception of it?
“Would it be possible?” Pitt insisted.
“I … I don’t know.” Cadell looked acutely uncomfortable. “I suppose there is … information I might pass to certain people … information as to Her Majesty’s government’s intentions which would benefit—could benefit—such a person.”
“How about a military adventurer?” Pitt went on. “Someone intending to raise a private army, for example.”
Cadell was white-faced. He sat forward in his chair. “This is far more serious than I had imagined. I … I supposed it would be a matter of money. Perhaps I was naive. Believe me, if anyone should approach me with any such suggestion I should report it immediately to Sir Richard Aston, whether I knew who it was or not. The consequences would have to follow as they may. I would not betray my country, Mr. Pitt.”
Pitt wanted to believe him, but what else would he say, whatever he would actually do? Pitt could not rid his mind of the knowledge that this man sitting so innocently opposite him had told Tannifer of Cornwallis’s vulnerability, a thing he could not know other than from the blackmailer. In truth, it did not exist. That was the only thing all the men unarguably had in common; the blackmailer knew them well enough to be familiar with what could be manufactured from their pasts to destroy all their usual courage and resolve, reduce them to nerve-racked, self-doubting men living in a waking nightmare, suspicious of even those closest to them.
“Do you know Assistant Commissioner Cornwallis?” Pitt asked abruptly.
“What?” Cadell was taken by surprise. “No … well … slightly. Belong to the same clubs. See him occasionally. Why? Or should I not ask?”
Did he say that because he knew? Or was it the intelligent guess any man might make in the circumstances? He must think of a noncommittal answer. And he should not betray Tannifer’s confidence. If Cadell was the blackmailer he was cruel enough to exact a vicious revenge.
“He is in charge of the case … ultimately,” he said aloud.