Traitors Gate - Anne Perry [98]
“Well …” Anstruther said guardedly. “Ah—yes.” He was obviously remembering what he had said at the inquest. “That is true—up to a point.”
“That is what I am worried about.” Pitt felt he had regained a little ground. “Just how erratic was his behavior, sir? You were naturally very discreet at the inquest, as becomes a friend speaking in a public place. But this is private, and for quite a different purpose.”
“Well … I hardly know what to say, sir.” Anstruther looked confounded.
“You said earlier that Sir Arthur was forgetful and confused,” Pitt prompted him. “Can you give me instances?”
“I … er. One doesn’t choose to remember such things, man! For heaven’s sake, one overlooks the failings of one’s friends. One does not commit them to memory!”
“You don’t remember any instance?” Pitt felt a stirring of hope, too thin to rely on, too bright to ignore.
“Well … er … it is more of an impression than a catalog of events, don’t you know, what?” Anstruther was now thoroughly unhappy.
Pitt had the sudden sharp impression that he was lying. He did not actually know anything at all. He had been repeating what he had been told by fellow members of the Inner Circle.
“When did you last see Sir Arthur?” he asked quite gently. Anstruther was embarrassed. There was no point in making an enemy of him; then he would learn nothing.
“Ah …” Anstruther was pink-faced now. “Not certain. Events put it rather out of my mind. I do recall quite plainly dining with him about three weeks before he died, poor fellow.” His voice gained in confidence. He was on firm ground now. “Seemed to me to have changed a lot. Rambling on about Africa.”
“Rambling?” Pitt interrupted. “You mean he was incoherent, disconnected in his ideas?”
“Ah—that’s a little steep, sir. Not at all. I mean simply that he kept returning to the subject, even when the rest of us had clearly passed on to something else.”
“He was a bore?”
Anstruther’s eyes widened. “If you like, sir, yes. He didn’t know when to leave the matter alone. Made a lot of accusations that were most unfortunate. Quite unfounded, of course.”
“Were they?”
“Good heavens, of course they were.” Anstruther was appalled. “Talked about secret plots to conquer Africa, and God knows what else. Quite mad—delusory.”
“You are profoundly familiar with Africa, sir?” Pitt did his best to keep every shred of sarcasm out of his voice and thought he succeeded.
“What?” Anstruther was startled. “Africa? What makes you say that, Superintendent?”
“That you know that there are no conspiracies regarding the financial backing of settlement there. There is a great deal of money involved, and presumably fortunes to be made by those who obtain mineral rights.”
“Ah … well …” Anstruther had been about to dismiss the idea in anger, then just in time realized that he had no grounds for it at all, however repugnant the idea was to him. Pitt watched the changing emotions in his face, and knew that his reactions to Sir Arthur’s charges were from the heart rather than the head, a plain man’s disbelief and horror of intrigue, complexities he did not understand and corruption he despised.
“I hope it is not true,” Pitt said gently. “But the belief in it does not seem so farfetched to me that one might consider it madness. Boundless wealth usually draws adventurers and thieves as well as honest men. And the prospect of such power has corrupted people before. Sir Arthur, as a politician, would be familiar with some of the scandals of the past, and not unnaturally fear for the future.”
Anstruther drew in his breath. His face was even pinker and he was obviously struggling between loyalties. Pitt did not know whether one of them was to the Inner Circle, but he believed it was. In all probability he saw it as Farnsworth had described it to Pitt: an organization of intelligent, enlightened men banded together to bring about the best good of the country, including the majority of blind and foolish men and women who could not decide for themselves, having neither the knowledge nor the wisdom. Honor and duty required