Buckingham Palace Gardens - Anne Perry [109]
His imagination could create nothing so disastrous. No matter how difficult or distasteful, or how absurd, he must try to find the pieces. And he must do it discreetly. Tyndale would know where they were put, and if he knew Pitt was looking, he might destroy them.
On the other hand, that might be the only way to find a score of pieces of china in a place as vast as this. Time was very short indeed. As early as tomorrow he might be forced to charge Julius Sorokine, and the case would be closed. There would be no trial, no weighing of evidence, and certainly no defense. Pitt’s own doubts were the only voice Sorokine would ever have to speak for him.
That left Pitt no alternative. He was aware that Narraway was uncomfortable still questioning the evidence. As well, there was a certain kind of disloyalty in pursuing something that could embarrass the Prince, and which would without doubt rebound against Narraway himself, possibly against the whole of Special Branch. Pitt might pay for it, and he was very conscious that he might ultimately give Narraway no option but to dismiss him.
If that happened, he would find it very hard to gain another job he would love as he did this, or for which he had any capability, and no one else would keep his family. Had he the right to make them pay for his moral decisions?
If he accepted the evidence as it was and let Julius Sorokine go to Bedlam for killing the two women, a living hell of both body and mind, what would Pitt himself become? A man Charlotte could still love? Or one she would slowly grow to dislike and in the end to despise, mourning for what he had once been?
It was a high price to pay, but even as he was turning it over in his mind, he knew the decision was made. He sent for Gracie again, deliberately using Tyndale to find her.
“Yes, sir?” she said hopefully, when she came in. “Yer got suffink?”
“We have to find the broken china,” he replied.
“You mean the dish, or whatever it were? Mr. Tyndale’s real scared about that.” Her eyes were grave with doubt. “’E’ll ’ave seen to it as it’s ’id good.”
“I know. He might be the only person who knows where the pieces are,” he agreed. “He won’t tell me, but if he thinks I am going to search every corner of this place until I find them, then he might be alarmed into destroying them completely, ground into unrecognizable powder.”
“Yer want me ter tell ’im as yer lookin’ for it, an’ mebbe ask ’im for it again?” she said.
“Yes, please. Tell him I’m going to get help in if I need it, because I’ve realized it’s crucial to the case.”
“Is it?”
“I don’t know. Minnie Sorokine seemed to think so. And if it isn’t, why hide it?” He looked at her small, curious face and realized she felt like a betrayer, tricking a man who had risked his own safety and comfort to befriend her. “I’m sorry,” he added gently. “I have to be sure Sorokine is guilty. I think they’ll arrest him formally tomorrow, and after that there’ll be no one to speak for him. There’ll be no trial.”
She was very pale. “I know. They’ll just put ’im in Bedlam in the filth an’ the screamin’.” She took a deep breath and let it out a little shakily. “I’ll go an’ tell ’im.” She looked close to tears. She turned quickly and went out of the door, small and very stiff, in a dress that had been altered but was still too big for her. He knew he had torn her loyalties as he had his own.
He found it far from easy to watch Tyndale after Gracie had spoken to him, without it being obvious that he was doing so. Several times he had to hang back and leave Gracie to appear busy with a tray in her hands, or a mop and a bundle of laundry.
It was nearly two hours after he had asked her help before she came to him with a parcel of broken china concealed in a cardboard box,