Long Spoon Lane - Anne Perry [48]
Emily shook her head. “But why? Why could they possibly care?”
Charlotte saw the enormity of it. But she was more familiar with the work of police and she felt Pitt’s fear of corruption. “That would be a charter for blackmail,” she said softly, her stomach tightening. “If you ask the right questions, you could imply almost anything. We’d all live in terror of whispers, misunderstandings. It’s a kind of irony! In the past servants have lived in fear of losing their good character if a master or mistress should speak ill of them. Now I can see a glimpse of what that would be like. We would live in fear of them. A wrong word to the police, and we’d be the ones to lose our character. But surely such a bill couldn’t pass, could it?”
Jack turned to face her, his eyes shadowed. “I don’t know. Think of the power. All it needs is one dishonest policeman, even one who is indiscreet, one who wants a favor or thinks himself insulted. The possibilities are endless. It will begin as a law used only where anarchy or treason is suspected, then it will be used for robberies, suspected embezzlement, or conspiracy to commit fraud, or to blackmail the blackmailers. The police will have power to do almost anything, because everyone will be vulnerable.”
“But we don’t have anything to—” Emily began.
“Hide?” he asked, eyebrows raised. “Who says it will have to be about the truth? What about a disgruntled servant, one caught stealing, a lazy or impertinent one, one who drinks or gambles or keeps a mistress, or simply wants more money or more power?” His voice sharpened. “Or one who is simply frightened, or in love, or easily led? Or one who is related to someone in trouble, or—”
“All right!” Emily shouted. “I see! I see! It’s monstrous. No Parliament in its right mind will pass such a law.”
“Emily, it won’t be phrased that way!” he said exasperatedly. “It will sound like a very reasonable right for police to question servants in private. The master or mistress won’t know, in order to protect the servant in question from pressure to lie in order to keep his position.”
“Can’t they do that now?” Charlotte asked, puzzled.
“Of course they can question servants, or anyone else,” he responded. “But not secretly. This could be living eyes and ears in your house, at your dining table, your kitchen, in your bedroom! It’s the excuse to do it in the name of protecting everyone from anarchy that’s the difference. They don’t need to show any reason for it. Now you have to suspect someone of a particular crime, and question them openly. This would be secret, and without any reason shown. It would begin softly, and grow without our ever realizing it.”
Emily lowered her eyes. “I see. I suppose you have to fight.” There was resignation in her voice, acceptance.
“When did you hear of this?” Charlotte asked him.
“Just now. After Thomas left to…to go back to Special Branch, I suppose. I’ll tell him. He’ll have to know. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to burden you with it, either of you.” He turned to Emily, his face creased with regret, his eyes gentle. “You see why I have to do it, whatever it costs? If I’d never known about it I could back out, but I do know.”
“Who told you?” Emily asked.
“Voisey. But it’s true. I’ve seen the draft.”
“Voisey?” Emily said with fury.
He put both his hands on her shoulders, holding her tightly, but without hurting her, unless she fought him. “It’s true. I’ll take it to the top, to the prime minister if need be, before I react, and I’ll be the happiest man in Westminster if it proves to be a lie, but it won’t. The police have asked for it. They say Special Branch is incompetent to stop the anarchist violence and the rising crime.” He gave a little shiver. “In order to protect the people, they have to have the power to use if they need it. It’s a tiny thing, and they say they hardly ever will use it, but the point is that once they have the power we can’t stop them, and we know that the very nature of power is that it corrupts,