Betrayal at Lisson Grove - Anne Perry [130]
‘What did Gower want?’ he asked. ‘Why did he kill West? Was West going to tell me Gower was a traitor?’
‘Perhaps. But, I admit, none of it makes sufficient sense to me so far, unless there is something a great deal larger than a few changes in the laws for French workers, or a rising unease in Germany and Russia. None of this is new, and none of it worries Special Branch unduly.’
‘I wish Narraway were here,’ Pitt said with intense feeling. ‘I don’t know enough for this job. He should have regarded Austwick as his protégé – unless he knows Austwick is a traitor too?’
‘I imagine that is possible.’ She was still lost in thought. ‘And if Victor is innocent, which I do not doubt, then there was a very clever and carefully thought-out plan to get both you and he out of London. Why can we not deduce what it is, and why?’
Pitt went to his office in Lisson Grove, aware as he walked along the corridors of the eyes of the other men on him, watching, waiting. Austwick’s particularly.
‘Good morning,’ Austwick said, apparently forgetting the ‘sir’ he would have added for Narraway.
‘Good morning, Austwick,’ Pitt replied a little tartly, not looking at him but going on until he reached Narraway’s office door. He realised he still thought of it as Narraway’s, just as he still thought of the position as his.
He opened the door and went inside. There was nothing of Pitt’s here yet – no pictures, no books – but Narraway’s things had been returned, so that to Pitt it felt as if he were still expecting the man himself to come back. When that happened he would not have to pretend to be pleased, and it would not be entirely for unselfish reasons either. He cared for Narraway, and he had at least some idea of how much the job meant to him: it was his vocation, his life. Pitt would be immensely relieved to give it back to him. It was not within Pitt’s skill or his nature to perform this job. He regretted that it was now his duty.
He dealt with the most immediate issues of the day first, passing on all he could to juniors. When that was done, he told them not to interrupt him. Then he went through all Narraway’s records of every crime Gower had been involved with over the past year and a half. He read all the documents, getting a larger picture concerning European revolutionary attempts to improve the lot of the working men. He also read the latest report from Paris.
As he did so, the violence proposed settled over him like a darkness, senseless and destructive. But the anger at injustice he could not help sharing. It grieved him that people had been oppressed and denied a reasonable life for so long that the change, when it came – and it must – would be fuelled by so much hatred.
The more he read, the greater the tragedy seemed to him that the high idealism of the revolution of ’48 had been crushed with so little legacy of change left behind.
Gower’s own reports were spare, as if he had edited out any emotive language. At first Pitt thought that was just a very clear style of writing. Then he began to wonder if it were more than that: a guarding of Gower’s own feelings, in case he gave something away unintentionally, or Narraway himself picked up a connection, an omission, even a false note.
Then he took out Narraway’s own papers. He had read most of them before, because it was part of his duty in taking over the position. Many of the cases he was familiar with anyway, from general knowledge within the Branch. He selected three specifically to do with Europe and socialist unrest, those associated with Britain, memberships of socialist political groups such as the Fabian Society. He compared them with the cases on which Gower had worked, and looked for any notes that Narraway might have made.
What were the facts he knew, personally? That Gower had killed West and made it appear it was Wrexham who had done so. All doubt left him that it had been extremely quick thinking on Gower’s part. It had been his intention all the time, and