Triple Jeopardy Read online

  Blackwell signaled Daniel to sit down and then sat in one of the other chairs and put his hands through his wild black hair, making it stand even more on end. He was Daniel’s side of forty, probably, but only just.

  “You have a problem,” he announced with a sigh. “It’s writ large in your face. Explain it to me, and tell me why you can’t solve it yourself, and then why my solutions won’t either. Or I’ll tell you. If the law could unravel it, you or Kitteridge would do it. And if it were the wrong side of the law, you wouldn’t touch it, right?”

  “Just about,” Daniel admitted.

  “Can Mercy know?” He always referred to his mother by name.

  “Certainly. The crime has already been committed.”

  “In the view of whoever you are defending?”

  “No, I’m for the prosecution…”

  Blackwell’s eyes opened wide. “You’re what?”

  Daniel described the attack on Rebecca Thorwood.

  Blackwell’s face was highly expressive of his disgust. “I don’t see your problem. The father saw him and recognized him. Is his word not good?”

  Daniel then told him about Sidney’s use of diplomatic immunity, and his flight to England.

  “Repulsive,” Blackwell agreed, “but perfectly legal. What are you planning to do? See if he’s done it before? Reasonable. A man doesn’t suddenly start behaving like that.”

  Daniel hadn’t even thought of that, but Blackwell was perfectly correct. He sat upright with a sudden surge of hope.

  Blackwell smiled and rolled his eyes. “Unimaginative, Daniel,” he said quietly. “How long was he in America? You want something that happened here. Perhaps that’s why he went? Did you think of that? Might have left home for the ‘colonies’ for the age-old reason. Want me to take a look?”

  “Yes. Yes, please,” Daniel said immediately. He should have thought of it himself. People don’t suddenly behave so abominably. It builds up. “I’ll see what his reputation is. Someone will know.”

  “Leave it alone,” Blackwell said sharply, leaning still farther forward. “You don’t know the right places to go. You’ll only get into more trouble.”

  “And you do?” Daniel asked skeptically.

  Blackwell’s face lit with a wide smile. “No, but Mercy does!”

  Daniel thought back to Mercy’s help in the Graves case. He had not asked her where the information came from, perhaps because largely he did not want to know. That did not really satisfy his conscience, but it did answer his legal need to be honest in court. Mercy was still a handsome woman, maybe a little short for magnificence, but perhaps not? She had a presence, even without height. Her hair, black but with a dramatic white streak, hung beyond her waist when loose; piled up on her head, it was a veritable shining crown. Her face was bold: high cheekbones and magnificent eyes. But it was her intelligence and her fierce emotions that held the attention. Her loyalty was absolute, her convictions deep, her humor outrageous. Some people were terrified of her because she did not forget an injury. But then neither did she forget a favor.

  “Please ask her to be careful,” Daniel said quickly. “I don’t know how important he is…”

  “Of course,” Blackwell answered him. “And he may be innocent!”

  Daniel did not bother to argue with him. Just at this moment he did not care about Sidney’s innocence so much as Patrick’s. He liked Patrick, but he cared deeply about Jemima, and he was afraid for her. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

  CHAPTER

  Four

  THREE DAYS WENT by and Daniel heard nothing from Roman Blackwell. The only time he saw or heard from Patrick was on the third day, when he went to dinner at Keppel Street, arriving a little before seven.

  He was greeted in the hall by his mother, holding the hand of Cassie, who stared at him with great interest.

  “You remember your uncle Daniel, don’t you?” Charlotte asked the little girl.

  Cassie hesitated only a moment. “Yes,” she said solemnly. “He said his daddy’s a policeman, like mine. Are you, too?”

  “No. I’m a lawyer,” he replied.

  “But what do you do?” she persisted.

  “I argue with people…in a big room called a court. When people say someone has done something bad, I argue and say that he hasn’t!”

  She stared at him in amazement, turning into awe. She looked up at Charlotte. “Grandma, when I grow up, that’s what I’m going to do. I love arguing!”

  Charlotte smothered her laughter with great difficulty. “I already know that, sweetheart. Just like your mother, who could argue the leg off an iron pot!”

  That had Cassie totally confused. She looked at Daniel. “Do you argue legs off…?” She had forgotten the rest.

  “No. That’s Grandmama being silly. I argue so they don’t punish people, if they haven’t done anything wrong. Or sometimes, if they have, they make the punishment less.”

  “Like not having any pudding? Or going up to bed early?”

  “Pretty much,” he agreed.

  “Oh. Would you do that for me?”

  “Of course I would!” He wasn’t going to argue that one.

  She smiled at him and then became shy, and hid her face in Charlotte’s skirt.

  “You’ve acquired another client,” Charlotte told him. “You had better come in, or we shall be late for dinner. I’m going to take her up to bed. I think you’ve sown enough future trouble for one night. Come on, Cassie.”

  Jemima came out of the sitting room and saw them. “I’ll take her up, Mama, and check on Sophie. You don’t need to. Go and talk to Daniel.”

  “You’d better be careful,” Charlotte warned. “Cassie’s just acquired a lawyer!”

  “What?”

  “She has just acquired Daniel to argue for her, if she should need it,” Charlotte repeated.

  “She is perfectly capable of arguing for herself!” Jemima replied. Then she turned to Daniel. “I’m sorry, but we are going to need your skills for someone less able. Patrick will tell you…after dinner.” She turned away and took Cassie’s hand, talking to her all the way up the stairs and round the corner, onto the landing.

  Daniel stared at Charlotte, trying to gather how much she knew. It was a skill he had attempted all his life. He had never grown out of the feeling that she knew everything he did, and more. Did she still read him with such ease?

  “Be careful,” she said quietly. “Jemima is a little…romantic.” He was about to ask her more, but she turned and led the way into the drawing room, where Pitt and Patrick were standing, staring at the last of the sun on the poplar trees, whose leaves were flickering. They were talking of the boats that had taken them past all the historic places, from Westminster Bridge, past the Tower of London, with Traitor’s Gate opening onto the water, Execution Dock where pirates had been drowned in olden times, the beautiful Queen Anne architecture of the Greenwich Naval College, and on down south toward the estuary, Gravesend, and ultimately the sea.

  They greeted each other and Daniel continued listening to the account of their day. Then Jemima returned, and they all went to the dining room to eat.

  The conversation returned to the day out on the river. Daniel was interested and amused by Jemima’s patriotic pride in the city of her birth, showing through her attempts to smother it and be sensitive to Patrick’s very clearly mixed emotions. Daniel was pleased to catch Patrick’s eye more than once and see the amusement in it. After all, Jemima had lived in America for four years, quite a bit of it in Washington, and Daniel profoundly hoped she had kept her comments about the merits of London to herself. She was more discreet now than she had been in the past. Was that marriage? Or perhaps it was also living in a new place where she was not well known, in a culture with which she was unfamiliar. She was definitely less critical, and Daniel liked that, but it was still a d
ifference from the Jemima he knew and was so comfortable with.

  Daniel, whose mind had not been far from Philip Sidney and the Thorwoods since Patrick had first told him, realized he was holding his knife and fork so tightly that his knuckles were white. He caught his father’s eye and wondered what he was thinking, if he knew anything about Philip Sidney and the assault on Rebecca Thorwood. He held his gaze for several moments and still could not tell. He felt oddly isolated at the table, even though this was his family.

  After dinner, Patrick excused himself to take a short walk in the garden. He glanced at Daniel, almost said something, then changed his mind.

  There was an awkward moment. Jemima looked at Patrick, then at Daniel.

  No one spoke.

  Then Jemima seemed to make up her mind. She turned to Charlotte. “Mama, let me tell you about my house. I so much want you to be able to see it in your mind’s eye.” She smiled, as if it were important to her, then included Pitt almost nervously: “Papa? Would you be interested?”

  Pitt saw her eagerness. “Of course I would. Before we visit one day.”

  Daniel saw Jemima’s shoulders relax as she slipped her arm through her father’s. Was she really that excited about the house? Or to leave Daniel alone with Patrick? And did Charlotte and Pitt know that, which was why they had agreed so easily?

  Patrick opened the French doors and stepped into the evening garden. Daniel went out after him, closing the doors firmly. He caught up with Patrick on the grass. The earth smelled rich from a sudden shower of rain earlier. Above them, a flock of starlings flew up from the hedge next door and scattered into the air.

  Patrick watched them, the light in his face showing his pleasure at the beauty of it. Daniel wondered how often Jemima had told him about the garden, or about the climbing roses, now twelve or fourteen feet over the pergola.

  It was a moment before he spoke, and Daniel waited.

  “We’ve done it,” Patrick said simply. His voice was tight, emotional, but it was difficult to tell whether it was entirely triumphant. There was a strong note of anxiety as well.

  Daniel noted that he had said “we” and not “I.” “Done it?” he asked.

  “The police have arrested Sidney for embezzlement.”

  Daniel could see in the half-light that Patrick was staring at him, waiting. “Embezzlement?” he asked with surprise. “From whom? He’s only been back for a couple of weeks! Embezzlement takes ages.”

  “From the British Embassy in Washington,” Patrick replied. “That’s British territory…”

  “Embezzlement,” Daniel repeated. “Then he must have been doing that when he was there! And somebody’s just discovered it now? A bit…convenient, isn’t it?”

  “Not for Sidney,” Patrick replied wryly. “But if he was guilty all the time, it’s not so surprising if, when you discover one thing and look at it carefully, it leads to another, and maybe another after that!”

  Daniel studied what he could see of Patrick’s face in the soft, almost diffused light of the setting sun, which was still well above the horizon and staining the air with color. Patrick was not elated, but there was hope in his face.

  “You believe it?” Daniel asked. “Really? I know you want to have him tried over here, where he’s got no diplomatic immunity, and certainly nowhere to run to—I understand that. Most of me wants it, too…”

  “Most?”

  “Part of me wishes you could find Thorwood was wrong and it wasn’t Sidney at all.”

  “Then why did he run, instead of staying in Washington and challenging the accusation?”

  “Come on! What chance would he have had, in a foreign country, and with a victim like Rebecca? With Tobias Thorwood swearing it was him?”

  Patrick stiffened subtly, just an angle of his shoulders. “Are you saying American law is unjust? Unfair? What…?”

  This could rapidly descend into a quarrel.

  “Would you want to face a French court on such a charge, if a French girl and her father accused you?” Daniel asked quickly.

  “I don’t know French law,” Patrick began.

  “Nor do I,” Daniel agreed. “But I know French emotions!”

  “What’s different about them?” Patrick was puzzled, and indignant.

  “Nothing! That’s the point. We’re all stacked a little against foreigners, and for our own people. Don’t you cheer your own side at an international game? Whether you know the players or not? And for that matter, even if you do, and you don’t like them?”

  “I don’t cheer men who attack women, whoever they are!” Patrick said sharply.

  “Of course you don’t. None of us does. We just don’t believe, if they are ours, that they are attempted rapists, or thieves, or anything else. Which is my point. He might have run because he was scared, or he might even have been told to.”

  “By whom? The British ambassador? Bad advice…and unbelievably arrogant.”

  “And whoever heard of an arrogant ambassador?” Daniel said sarcastically. “Especially a British one!”

  Patrick gave a slightly jerky laugh, in spite of himself. “All right. Running doesn’t prove him guilty. Don’t ask where the evidence came from, but there is evidence on paper. And it’s not stolen or forged. Or obtained dishonestly. It is enough to prove him guilty of embezzlement. It’s not a fortune, but it’s still stealing.” His voice grew more urgent. “We can make him answer for it. But even if he was found not guilty, or if they couldn’t come to a verdict at all, all sorts of evidence would still come out.”

  “Not about assaulting Rebecca Thorwood.”

  “He took the pendant, for heaven’s sake! Apart from it having belonged to Rebecca’s godmother, it’s also valuable. It’s a theft. In fact, even if it weren’t real, it’s still a miserable, violent, mean-hearted crime. Would you want to have anything to do with a man who would do such a thing?”

  “No,” Daniel said without hesitation. “Look, I’m not saying any of it is excusable. If he’s guilty, he’s a complete rotter! But he can be tried only for the embezzlement. How much was it for, by the way?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think they’ve got to the bottom of it yet. It could have been going on for years.”

  “It can’t have been going on any longer than Sidney’s been there, or it can’t be him.”

  “If we can just get him into court, we can expose him!” Patrick insisted. “That’s all we need!”

  “We?”

  Patrick was losing patience. “Yes, we. I thought you were in on it, too, but it’s definitely Tobias Thorwood, and it’s me!”

  “Rebecca?”

  “She will be, when she realizes she can win.” There was certainty in Patrick’s voice.

  “She can also lose,” Daniel pointed out.

  “Are you always this passionate for justice?” Patrick said with more than a touch of sarcasm. “I thought Jem was argumentative, but you take the prize.”

  Perhaps that was a compliment. “Does she think this is a good idea?” he asked.

  “Sometimes she does, and sometimes she doesn’t.”

  “Then she takes the prize,” Daniel said, deliberately chuckling. “She can argue even with herself.”

  Patrick reluctantly smiled as well, then instantly was serious again. “Daniel, will you take the case? You know the law, but you know justice, too. Jem says you’re good. More to the point, so does your father.”

  Daniel was horrified. “You discussed this with him?” The thought appalled him. He loved and admired his father, but there was a part of Pitt that was different and always would be, a self-control he had tried to instill in Daniel, not often successfully. Daniel wore his heart very much on his sleeve, and he wasn’t too sure his father would understand why he had allowed himself to think this might be a case he should take up.

  �
��No! No, of course not. He’d have to defend Sidney. He’s part of…”

  “The government?” Daniel finished for him. “And you think members of the government always agree with each other? I knew the American government was different from ours, but I didn’t know it was that different! It takes half an hour for them to agree on what day it is! And diplomats are the worst. By the time they’ve finished being polite, you’ve forgotten what you were talking about in the first place.”

  Patrick was smiling. “Well, I haven’t forgotten what I’m talking about, and you must have forgotten that I’m Irish if you think I can’t talk around in circles with the best of them. Those diplomats might have learned it, but it’s in my blood! Are you going to help or not?”

  “Very circular,” Daniel said drily, to give himself time to think. Before committing to a promise he would have to keep, he needed to be certain what he could do, and what he believed. “Do you want me to help prosecute?”

  “Yes. To be certain they don’t wrap it up before the whole story is told. You might learn why he stole the diamond. Perhaps he needed to sell it to replace the money he embezzled. Of course, he wouldn’t say so, but it might be provable.”

  “Have they found the diamond?” Daniel did not have to feign surprise; he was astounded. “Anyone could prosecute that! You could tell them what you suspected, even if they did not ask you.”

  “No,” Patrick said flatly. “He’s probably sold it already.”

  “ ‘Probably’ isn’t going to cut it.”

  “I know! That’s why we need a clever prosecutor, one who knows about the attack on Rebecca and the theft,” Patrick said reasonably.

  Daniel opened his mouth to say “has heard about it,” but he knew from the look on Patrick’s face that this was not the time. Had Pitt really told Patrick that Daniel was a good lawyer? Did he truly think so, or was he just standing up for Daniel? “It’s an important case, because of the people involved,” Daniel said instead. “And because it’s international, if it ever gets the assault of Rebecca into it. The embassy will want it handled very carefully, even settled out of court, if possible.”