The Whitechapel Conspiracy - Anne Perry [82]
And with no job, and soon no lodgings, how could he ever be the man he wanted to be, like Pitt, with a home and a wife … how could he be the man Gracie wanted him to be?
He went on speaking to drive out the thoughts. He was committed now, whatever it cost him. He had to find out the truth—for Pitt, for Gracie, for the sake of honor.
“After Remus got back from Northampton he didn’t go home. He had a meal in a public house, then he went by cab to Regent’s Park and met a man there, by appointment, because he kept looking at his watch.”
“Wot kind o’ man?” she asked very quietly, still not moving her hands from his, but keeping them very still, as if not to remind him they were there.
“Very well dressed,” he replied, feeling the small bones under his fingers and longing to hold them tighter. “Bit taller than ordinary, wearing a coat with the collar turned up, even at this time of year, and his hat pulled down. I couldn’t really see his face. And even though I was only a few yards away, I couldn’t hear a word they said.”
She nodded without interrupting.
“Then Remus went off quickly again, excited, eager. He’s after something so big he hardly knows how to contain himself—or he thinks he is. If it’s to do with Adinett, it might be the proof that Mr. Pitt is right.”
“I know that,” she agreed quickly. “I’ll follow ’im. No rozzer’s gon’ ter notice me, nor think anythin’ of it if they do.”
“You can’t …” he began.
She took her hands away. “Yeah, I can. Least I can try. ’E don’t know me, an’ even if ’e saw me, it won’t mean anythin’ to ’im. Anyway … you can’t stop me.”
“I could tell Mrs. Pitt not to let you off,” he pointed out, leaning back in his chair again.
“Yer wouldn’t!” The look of dismay in her face was momentarily comical. “What about Mr. Pitt stuck in Spitalfields, an’ all the lies they’re sayin’ about ’im?”
“Well, be careful,” he insisted. “Don’t follow too close. Just remember where he goes. And come home as soon as it begins to get dark. Don’t go into any public houses.” He fished in his pockets one after another and took out all his change. He put it on the table. “You’ll need money for cabs, or omnibuses.”
It was plain in her face that she had not thought of that. She stared across at him, struggling with herself over accepting it.
“Take it!” he ordered. “You can’t follow him on foot. And if he goes outside the city again, leave him be. Do you understand?” He looked at her sharply, his stomach knotting. “You’re not to go on any trains. No one would know where you are. Anything could happen to you, and where would we even begin to look?”
She swallowed hard. “O’right,” she said meekly. “I’ll do that.”
He was not entirely sure he believed her. He was startled how deeply the fear bit into him that some harm might come to her. He drew breath to say something to stop her from doing it at all, then realized how absurd it would sound. He had no power to command her in anything, as she would be the first to point out. And also it would betray to her how he felt, and he was in no way ready to do that. He did not even know how to deal with it himself, let alone explain it to her. Friendship he could cope with, just. Even that much made demands he was unused to coping with and opened him up to hurt. It was a loss of the independence which had always been his greatest safety.
But he admired her for being willing to take up following Remus in his place. There was a deep warmth inside him when he thought of it. That was a kind of safety also, a knowledge of trust.
“Be careful!” was all he said aloud.
“ ’Course I will!” She attempted to be indignant, but her eyes did not leave his, and she stayed still for several minutes before she finally stood up and went to get them both something to eat.
Next morning she asked Charlotte for the day off, saying it was something rather urgent she had to do. She had prepared