Long Spoon Lane - Anne Perry [89]
“An internal rivalry?” The contempt in Voisey’s face was scalding.
Pitt felt his own temper rise. “It was someone who knew him, one of the anarchists.”
“Why?” Voisey was incredulous. “He didn’t need to get rid of Landsborough in order to blow up Scarborough Street!”
“How do you know that?” Pitt asked.
“Why the hell would he? Landsborough was going to stop him?” His disbelief was scathing. “How? Warn the police, get them out in force? Are you suggesting that someone in their group trusted the police?”
Pitt allowed an exaggerated patience into his voice. “To set off explosions like that, you need a great deal of dynamite, and planning, and people prepared to risk their own lives. Maybe Kydd didn’t know that, until he’d taken over Magnus’s leadership.”
Voisey struggled for a few moments. Pitt was right, and he knew it. He met Pitt’s eyes and saw the understanding in them. If he denied it, he would add one error to another. He gave in quickly, while he had the chance. “Kydd,” he said aloud. “Why did he do it? What does he want?”
“I don’t know,” Pitt admitted, smiling very slightly.
A shadow crossed Voisey’s eyes.
Pitt waited.
“Wetron used the Scarborough Street bombing perfectly,” Voisey said. “Nothing could have served his purpose better. Do you really believe that is coincidence?”
Pitt had a coat on, and it was not cold in the cathedral, but still he felt a chill inside. He would like to have escaped that conclusion, found at least one compelling reason why it could not be true, but he could find none. “Do you think he is behind it?” he said very quietly.
It was Voisey’s turn to smile. “Your ability to think well of people never fails to surprise me, Pitt. It shouldn’t do. In spite of all that’s happened to you, to your father before you, your years of solving God knows how many murders, and now dealing with political fanatics, you are still naive. You refuse to look at the realities of human nature.” His face darkened. “Of course Wetron is behind it, you fool!” he said savagely. “He put poor, stupid, essentially harmless Landsborough up to setting off the first bomb. He told the group no one would be hurt. Idiotic young anarchists, who have no idea what they’re doing, except protesting against corruption, would easily agree to something like that. You caught at least some of them, which was doubtless what he intended, and the pump is primed. The second time it looks similar, but it’s far worse. Everyone assumes, quite naturally, that it is an escalation of the same thing, and blames the same people. What will be next? Fear is ignited and Denoon fans the flames. If Wetron didn’t do it, he is the most incompetent and the luckiest man alive. What do you think, Pitt? What does your police intelligence think? What does your Special Branch brain make of it?”
“Exactly the same as you do,” Pitt replied. “But how much of it he used and how much he created doesn’t really matter, as long as we can connect him to enough of it to stop him.”
“Ah! Pragmatic at last! Thank God. And how do you propose we do that?” Voisey hesitated only a moment. “We have Tellman, of course. A man on the inside.”
He looked at Voisey and saw in his face an exquisite awareness of all the emotions and the cost, and of Pitt’s dilemma. He was waiting for Pitt to say he could not do it, and then his contempt would be complete. Either way he had entire control over it, and the relish of the power shone in his eyes.
Pitt ached to have some other solution, equally as good, which would offer him escape. But there was nothing.
“I’ll ask Tellman to see if he can trace the money back to Wetron,” he agreed reluctantly.
“Money!” Voisey said with contempt. “We know he’s extorting money! You’ll only trace it as far as Simbister, anyway. We need dynamite, connections that prove complicity, knowledge of what it was to