We Shall Not Sleep_ A Novel - Anne Perry [64]
There was no comprehension in Schenckendorff’s eyes.
“One of our nurses was murdered,” she said.
“I know,” he answered. “It was not any of us, although I suppose it is inevitable that you should think it is. I cannot help you, Miss…”
She found her eyes filling with tears, and was furious with herself. “Reavley,” she said in little more than a whisper.
His face was gray with exhaustion and pain, but he still managed to blush. “I’m sorry,” he said so quietly that she saw his lips move more than heard the words.
She had no idea what to say. She wanted to accept what she thought was at least in part an apology as well as an expression of sympathy, but her father’s face was so vivid in her mind that the absolution would not come. “Who is the Peacemaker?” she said instead.
He remained silent.
“They are accusing my brother Matthew of having killed that girl,” she went on. She heard the rasping emotion in her voice and could not control it. “If we don’t manage to prove that he didn’t, they’ll shoot him. Everybody just wants an end to it. We’d like it to be one of you, but it seems it couldn’t be. The next best thing from them is if it was someone like him, who’s only just arrived here. Anything is better than it being someone they know.”
He frowned. “Why do they think it’s him? Why would an intelligence officer from London, who’s never seen her before, suddenly do such a thing?”
“Because he knew her before, and told them he didn’t. It was a long time ago, and she wasn’t married then. He knew her by her maiden name and he didn’t associate the two.”
“Don’t they understand that?” he asked.
“They don’t want to.” She lifted her shoulders very slightly in dismissal of reason. “It’s an answer. They can take him and the regiment will be happy. The police can pack up and go home, get away from the smell, the mud, and the hard rations.” She stared at him, seeing a pain of disillusion far deeper than anything physical could be. “Who is the Peacemaker, Colonel von Schenckendorff?” She almost added that he owed them that much, then changed her mind. He knew it already, or he would not be here.
“That is dangerous knowledge, Miss Reavley.”
“You think it is going to make Matthew’s life any more dangerous than it is? They’ll shoot him—or hang him perhaps.” To say that was so painful, she faltered.
He closed his eyes. “Dermot Sandwell,” he whispered.
She was stunned. Was that true? Could it be? She thought they had proved it could not be, years ago. Was this the Peacemaker’s last, most daring trick of all, to blame someone else? Was Schenckendorff prepared to sacrifice his life to save the real Peacemaker and ruin Sandwell?
She realized he was looking at her, even smiling very faintly.
“You don’t believe me,” he observed. “That is why I have to go to England, whatever the cost. Knowing his name will give you nothing, Miss Reavley, except perhaps a bullet in the head. I must face him and prove it. I know dates and telegram texts, people, places. You must free your brother from this absurd charge, however you do it, and we must go to London. We have not much more time to waste. Please…”
She nodded. “Thank you. I’ll do everything I can.”
His smile grew a little. “You are still not certain, are you? You think it could be a double cross, a triple cross.”
She nearly said she did believe, then something in his eyes made her feel that lying would be cheap, a thing unworthy of either of them. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “Can I do anything for you? I’m really an ambulance driver, but I can do basic nursing, emergency care, something to make you more comfortable.” It was evasive, a moment’s release from the tension that threatened to snap inside her, and yet part of her meant it. They were both trapped, and he was in a different kind of pain. She would have helped it if she could.
“Matthew Reavley?” Mason said in disbelief. “That’s impossible!”
He had followed the Cambridgeshire regiment forward to get the stories that would justify