Betrayal at Lisson Grove - Anne Perry [122]
She would be furiously angry at the injustice against Narraway, and she would still feel a gratitude to Narraway for having taken Pitt into Special Branch when he so badly needed it. Life could have become very bleak indeed. And if she knew that Narraway loved her that could be an added sense of responsibility, even of debt. To think of it as a debt was ridiculous – she had not asked for his regard – but Pitt knew the fierce protectiveness she felt towards the vulnerable. It was instinct, defensive, like an animal with cubs. She would act first, and think afterwards. He loved her for it. He would lose something of infinite value if she were different, more guarded, more sensible. But it was still a liability.
There were papers piled on the desk in front of him, reports waiting to be made sense of, but still his mind was on Charlotte.
Where was she? How could he find out without placing her in further danger? Who was he absolutely certain he could trust? A week ago, he would have sent Gower. Unwittingly he would have been giving them the perfect hostage.
Should he contact the Dublin police? That would hardly be helpful if Narraway were under suspicion of embezzlement.
Perhaps anonymity was Charlotte’s best defence, but his own helplessness was almost like a physical pain. He knew nothing, he had all the forces of Special Branch at his fingertips, and no idea whom he could trust.
There was a knock on his door. The moment he answered it Austwick came in, looking grave and slightly smug. He had more papers in his hand.
Pitt was glad to be forced back into the present. ‘What have you?’ he asked.
Austwick sat down without being asked. Pitt knew he would not have done that with Narraway.
‘More reports from Manchester,’ Austwick replied. ‘It does begin to look as if Latimer is right about this factory in Hyde. They are making guns, in spite of their denials. And then there’s the mess-up in Glasgow. We need to pay more attention to that, before it gets any bigger.’
‘Last report said it was just young people protesting,’ Pitt reminded him. ‘Narraway had it marked as better left alone.’
Austwick pulled his face into a grimace of distaste. ‘Well, I think Narraway’s mind was hardly on the country’s interests over the last while. Unfortunately we don’t know how long his . . . inattention had been going on. Read it yourself and see what you think. I’ve been handling it since Narraway went, and I think he may have made a serious misjudgement. And we can’t afford to ignore Scotland either.’
Pitt swallowed his response. He did not trust Austwick, but he must not allow him see that. All this felt like wasting time, of which he had far too little.
‘What about the other reports from Europe on the socialists?’ he asked. ‘Anything from Germany? And what about the Russian émigrés in Paris?’
‘Nothing significant,’ Austwick replied. ‘And nothing at all from Gower.’ He looked at Pitt steadily, concern in his eyes.
Pitt kept his expression perfectly composed. ‘He won’t risk communication unless he has something of value to report. It all has to go through the local post office.’
Austwick shook his head. ‘I think it’s of secondary importance, honestly. West may have been killed simply because they discovered he was an informant. It would have been revenge rather than anything important he was going to tell you.’
He shifted his position a little and looked straight at Pitt. ‘There have been rumblings about great reform for years, you know. People strike postures and make speeches, but nothing serious happens, at least not here in Britain. I think our biggest danger was three or four years ago. There was plenty of unrest in the East End of London, which I know you are aware of, though a lot of it was just before you joined the Branch.’
That was a reminder of how recent Pitt was to this job. He saw the flicker of resentment in Austwick’s eyes as he said it. He wondered for a moment