Bedford Square - Anne Perry [41]
Gracie jiggled in her seat as if she were making such a mighty effort at self-control that she could not keep still.
“If ’e’s got enough money ter do that, then we gotta be very careful,” she said crossly, and without looking at him. Then she raised her head, her eyes blazing. “Are yer sure yer can buy bein’ a general? An’ if anybody were that rich, why’d ’e buy bein’ a soldier? That’s daft.”
“You wouldn’t understand,” he said loftily. “People like that are different from us.”
“They’re not any different if they get shot,” she said instantly. “Blood’s blood, ’ooever’s it is.”
“I know that, and you know that,” he agreed. “But they think theirs is different, and better.”
She sighed very patiently, as she did with Daniel when he was obstructive and deliberately disobedient just to see how far he could push her.
“I daresay yer know more about it than I do, Mr. Tellman. I spec’ Mr. Pitt’s very lucky ter ’ave someone like you ter ’elp keep ’im straight an’ out o’ mistakes.”
“I do my best,” he agreed, accepting a third piece of cake and allowing her to refill his cup yet again. “Thank you, Gracie.”
She grunted.
But when he left half an hour later, without having seen either Pitt or Charlotte, he was overtaken by acute anxiety as to exactly what he had promised. It had been a long and very busy day. It was hot. His feet ached. He had walked miles and not had more to eat than a cheese-and-pickle sandwich and Gracie’s cake. She had made him welcome, and without realizing it, he had given his word that he would tell her what he uncovered in the Albert Cole case before he told Pitt. He must be losing his wits! He had never done anything so totally foolish in his life before. It was contrary to everything he had been taught.
Not that that was normally a reason. He was not a man to follow anyone’s commands against his own judgment.
He was too tired to think clearly, he just had a terrible feeling of being out of his depth, of following impulse more than his own nature and habit, all the path he was used to.
But he had given his word … and to Gracie Phipps, of all people.
4
PITT HAD HEARD Tellman’s news from Gracie when he finally came home, and he was deeply saddened that the evidence seemed to be connecting Albert Cole more closely with Balantyne. He must instruct Tellman to learn all he could about Cole, most particularly if he had any pattern of burglary or attempts at extortion. Not that he could imagine anything in Balantyne’s life that would offer an opportunity for such a thing. The poor man’s tragedies had been forced into public knowledge years ago, every shred of misery ripped open.
He was reminded of the circumstances again as he passed a newspaper boy and heard him calling the headlines.
“Dead body on general’s doorstep! Police baffled by murder of old soldier in Bedford Square! Read all about it an’ see if you can do any better! So, wanna paper, sir? Ta. There y’are!”
Pitt took it from him and opened it up. He read it with mounting anger and dismay. Nothing was said directly enough to be actionable, but all the implications were plain: Balantyne was a general and the dead man must have served with him at some time. There was some bond between them, of love or hate, knowledge, revenge or conspiracy. Even treason was hinted at—so subtly that some might have missed it, but not all. Any of it could conceivably have been true.
And any of it would ruin Balantyne.
He closed the newspaper and, ramming it under his arm, he strode along the pavement to the steps of the Bow Street Station.
As soon as he was inside a constable came in to tell him that there was a message to say Assistant Commissioner Cornwallis wished to see him immediately. There was no reason given.
Pitt stood up again without even glancing at anything on his desk. The first fear that took him was that Cornwallis had received another letter, this time stating the terms for which the blackmailer would keep silent. All sorts of things entered his mind, from simple money