Triple Jeopardy Page 8

  Jemima felt heat burn up her cheeks. It was out of anger, but also guilt. That was exactly what she had done. How did he know? “It was my husband, if you remember, who was doing everything he could to prosecute Sidney. I would not go against his wishes, even if I felt differently.”

  “I’m sorry, but I do not entirely believe you…”

  She stiffened. “I beg your pardon?”

  He looked uncomfortable. “I apologize. That was discourteous. I am worried about Rebecca, as I know you understand. And Sidney is English.” He took a deep breath. “You must feel—”

  She cut him off. “Why on earth would I? I’ve never even met Sidney! That is a very unjust thing for you to say!” It was an accusation, and she meant it. She had liked Tobias before, even trusted him, but he was not the one who would have to face other people, hear the whispers, see the half smiles, and wonder what gossip his daughter had not quite heard. “I do not know Mr. Sidney, nor care what happens to him, and there is nothing to give you cause to think otherwise!”

  “Except that you are English, and so is he. It is natural for you to think the best of your own, and wish to defend them. I saw him!” Tobias’s face was flushed. “Are you questioning me? Or does it not matter to you that he is guilty?”

  Jemima could feel her temper flare until she was shaking and almost choked for words. She would soon return to Washington, where Tobias Thorwood was a force she would have to reckon with. More importantly, Patrick would, yet she would not be silent. “No, Mr. Thorwood, you are a guest in my country now, and you have just insulted me profoundly, and without cause. The fact that your daughter was the victim of an assault does not give you the right to blame anybody and everybody for it. You are far more eager for revenge upon Philip Sidney than I am, because I am more concerned for Rebecca and how she will feel long after this is over, how she will face a society in front of whom she has not a shred of privacy left! When she finds a good man and falls in love, all he will see is the victim of an assault, a woman guilty of having misjudged a man, trusted him, and perhaps let him into her bedroom at night.”

  “How dare you!” he shouted so loudly that even Rebecca, through the closed door of her bedroom, must have heard him. “It is you she should be afraid of, and the other women like you, who are jealous of her position, her prospects.”

  Jemima was really angry. “I don’t want her place in society! If I did, I would have stayed in England and not gone to America and married an Irish immigrant policeman! If you can’t see that, you are far blinder than I took you for! I want Rebecca to have the choice of what she does, not you.”

  Tobias’s face was flushed red. “So, we let Sidney go? She should stay silent and put up with it? What about justice? What about making him pay for having—”

  “What? Ruined her reputation? He hasn’t! No one else knows. But of course, they all will after you bring it up at his trial for embezzlement.”

  His voice was like ice. “Does your husband know you are going against everything he is fighting for, Mrs. Flannery?”

  That cut deeply. She felt the blood rush up her face.

  Tobias grunted. “I thought not! You have strange loyalties.”

  “So have you,” she snapped back. “You want revenge more than safety, more than giving Rebecca the right to decide,” she retorted.

  “And these other things, important things, you appear to have overlooked,” he went on. “Or perhaps not bothered to think of? Your thought is shallow, intuitive rather than intelligent.”

  For a moment, he robbed her of words. She would have said exactly the same of him! He was acting with the self-righteous protective rage of a father, treating Rebecca as his property, damaged, lessened in value. But she dared not say that, even though it was on the tip of her tongue.

  “Do you imagine this is an isolated instance, entirely out of character for him? Did you think at all?” he accused.

  “You have found other cases, in the past?” she asked incredulously. “Did the British Embassy know of them? Why was he there, where such things could do international damage?” Another even worse thought suddenly burst into her mind, drowning out all else. “You think they knew, don’t you? The embassy staff. Or you think they should have? That this is their fault? You’ll make a big incident of this, even bigger than it is. You want damages? Money? No, not money, you want the British to be disgraced.” Her mind raced. “An excuse for…” She gasped. “You’ll turn Rebecca’s embarrassment into an international incident. How awful for her! She’ll—”

  “Silence!” he bellowed. “You…you stupid, wicked woman! Of course I don’t want any such thing! It isn’t the past I’m thinking about at all, you fool! It’s the future. Do you imagine he’ll never do it again? Either because he can’t help himself, or from sheer damned arrogance because he can get away with it? If we know what he is, and we do nothing, we will be at least in part responsible for the next victim, and the next…Never mind that I would suffer, what about Rebecca?” He jabbed his hand toward her. “You profess to be her friend, and yet you don’t know her well enough to imagine her guilt…when it is too late. It may be embarrassing to come forward and accuse him now, but what will it be when there is a second victim, or a third?”

  Jemima stood frozen to the spot. What he was saying was true, all true. She had not even thought that far. Rebecca would blame herself if there was another attack. Her silence would hang around her neck like lead crushing her.

  “I think you had better leave, Mrs. Flannery, and do not come back again. If you do, Rebecca will not see you. I shall explain to my wife that you had another urgent appointment. Sir John Armitage will not care either way. I daresay he will not even notice. If he does, he will understand that I am doing what is hard, but what I am quite certain is in Rebecca’s best interests in the end.”

  Armitage’s voice broke in before Jemima could reply. He had come in behind her without her hearing. “Silence may be construed by many to be an admission of guilt, Mrs. Flannery. Miss Thorwood will never have to lie, or conceal the event, if she faces it now. You may or may not choose to understand Tobias’s fear for her, or his trust in his daughter’s courage, but I ask you to trust it anyway.” His voice was smooth and clipped, very English, eminently reasonable. “His desire is to protect her, not merely now, when she might well find it easier to be silent than to face her attacker. But in the future also, because there might be a dark shadow she is afraid of because she did not deny it when she had the chance. In brief, your defense of her privacy is shortsighted, if well meant.” He turned to Tobias. “But your charge of defending an Englishman, right or wrong, is unfair. I think you owe the young lady an apology, and I would think the more of you if you offered it.”

  Tobias’s face flared red, but he offered it nonetheless. “I apologize, Mrs. Flannery,” he said stiffly. “Now would you please take your leave before my wife comes back into the room and is distressed? She has already suffered enough.”

  “No,” Jemima said quietly. “It is I who should apologize. You raised a side of this that I had not considered. It is far deeper than I thought, and we cannot erase the past. But as you say, we will affect the future, whatever we do. I’m sorry.” She turned to Armitage. “Good day, Sir John.” She took a step toward the door.

  “Mrs. Flannery,” Tobias said huskily.

  She stopped and then turned back, waiting for him to speak.

  “I spoke out of turn also. Please do come again. Rebecca is very fond of you, and you seem to be able to pick up her spirits better than we can.”

  “Thank you,” she said, “I will.” She left without speaking to Armitage again.

  CHAPTER

  Eight

  “YES, SIR.” DANIEL stood in front of Marcus fford Croft’s desk.

  Marcus stared at him benignly, his white hair surrounding his head like a halo, but there was no smile on his face. In fact, he
looked increasingly grave as Daniel waited for him to speak.

  “Doing well,” Marcus said. “Ever since the Graves case. Proved your worth. Lot of good decisions…”

  He seemed to be waiting for a response, so Daniel gave him one. “Thank you, sir.”

  “Don’t thank me! Did it yourself. Now I want to see if you can keep it up. Not certain…”

  Daniel was struck with a sudden chill. He drew breath to speak and changed his mind. This was a time when it would be wise to keep silent.

  “Family loyalty,” Marcus went on. “Very important. Scylla and Charybdis, and all that. Don’t look so mystified, boy! The screaming monster in the rock called Scylla, and the ever-devouring vortex called Charybdis. Didn’t they teach you classics at Cambridge? What is the world coming to?”

  Daniel knew the reference, but it didn’t help in the least.

  “Loyalty to family!” Marcus said tartly. “Loyalty to friends, even when they make mistakes. And, God help us, we all do. Loyalty to your country, which makes even more mistakes. Loyalty to your belief, right or wrong. Which, if you have a brain and the courage to use it, will also be subject to radical review. If it isn’t, it is probably totally ossified. Turn to bone, in case your Latin didn’t go that far!”

  “It does, sir!”

  “Good. Then you will be equal to the test you’re about to face…”

  Daniel felt his stomach sink. He was good at tests, usually, but he still hated them. And why now? It was not exactly an idle time.

  “A matter of necessity,” Marcus went on. “Case may turn out to be more important than it looks. Of course, it also may not, but it is important for you…”

  This time, Daniel did interrupt. “I’m on a case with Mr. Kitteridge, sir.”

  “No, you’re not!”

  “Sir, it is…” Daniel’s voice died away. Marcus was staring at him with a fixed look.

  “I believe we can expect no fee for this work,” Marcus continued. “Mr. Kitteridge is taking on another, serious case for the Foreign Office. One for which he will be paid. Handsomely. You will take the defense of Philip Sidney yourself. I can give you a part-time clerk, if you feel you need assistance. But you are quite capable of conducting it by yourself. You may not think so, which is immaterial. I am head of chambers, and I do think so.”

  “Sir…” Daniel protested, and then changed his mind.

  “What? Not ready for it? Nonsense. Follow my advice and you’ll be fine!”

  “Sir?” This time, Daniel did protest.

  Marcus ignored him. “Don’t follow it, go against it, and it will be the ruin of you…I promise!”

  Daniel could not have been more surprised than if Marcus had risen from his seat and slapped him.

  Marcus grunted. “You will defend young Philip Sidney as if your career depended on it, because it does! It is your job to defend him for the crime with which he is charged, and to do it to the best of your ability, no matter what you think him guilty of. You owe loyalty to your family, your country, but you serve the law! That is your part in the scheme of things. And you will do it this time, or you will cease to have the opportunity to do it in the future! Do you understand me?”

  Daniel was too appalled to find an answer.

  Marcus pursed his lips. “You managed to do that in the Graves case, when it was your father’s peril. Why? Did you think your father would disown you if you appeared to be against him? Don’t tell me you did not think he could be wrong—you did! I saw it in your eyes. Do you think your brother-in-law could be wrong, and your sister will not forgive you for making her see that?”

  Daniel clenched his jaw so tightly the pain went right through his head. Marcus had struck a raw nerve. It was exactly what he feared. That it was not his fault would make no difference at all. It would be he who was exposing it, making it impossible to deny.

  This time Marcus’s voice was soft, as if he understood, maybe more than Daniel would ever appreciate. “You can’t please other people, Daniel. All you can do is be careful how you uncover the truth. Now go and defend Philip Sidney. For the duration of this trial, that is where your loyalties lie.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Go on, then!”

  “Yes, sir.” Daniel turned away and walked out the door, and into his own small room. He should have seen this coming. He should have refused Patrick…and Jemima. It was too late now. Marcus was right.

  * * *

  —

  DANIEL BEGAN BY going to visit Philip Sidney in prison. Kitteridge had been already, so Daniel would have to explain the situation to Sidney without making him feel as if he had been downgraded, fobbed off with a junior.

  He had no idea what to expect. Whatever he felt, he must try to see the whole miserable exercise from Sidney’s point of view. Whatever struggle it cost him, Daniel must see the good in him, the humanity, if there was any to find. How had Sidney got himself into this mess? God knew, Daniel could empathize with him! How had he got into such a mess himself?

  Of course, he had been to various prisons around London before. It was seldom a pleasant experience. The accused person was almost always afraid, however they exhibited it. Sometimes they were pathetic, sometimes aggressive, sometimes completely and utterly bewildered.

  This was a very ordinary police cell. Sidney was incarcerated only because he had the means to flee, and it had been suggested that he might rather than face the charge leveled against him. The offense was entirely nonviolent, and the actual amount of money not very great, considering the embezzlement had taken place over an extensive period.

  Daniel told the guard that he was Sidney’s lawyer and showed him his credentials. Reluctantly, the guard took him into a small stone-floored room with one table and two chairs and told him to wait. Daniel had been in such rooms to visit men who were afraid and all too often filled with despair. He was used to the struggle to convince them that this was not yet the end, there was still something worth fighting for, even if it was only a lesser sentence.

  When Sidney came in a few minutes later, nothing about his manner was as Daniel had expected. His physical appearance he already knew, from Tobias Thorwood’s description of the man he had seen coming out of Rebecca’s bedroom. It was very general: tall, slender, fair brownish hair, and an air of arrogance, of entitlement.

  There was no arrogance in this man that the guard showed in. Sidney’s hands were loosely manacled in front of him. Perhaps that was for Daniel’s safety?

  “I’m sorry, I don’t know you,” Sidney said quietly.

  Daniel stood up. “Daniel Pitt. I work with Kitteridge.”

  “Has something else happened?” He was trying to hide it, but there was an edge of fear in his voice.

  Daniel decided it was best to be open. The situation was far too complicated as it was. Prevarications and attempted lies would make it totally incomprehensible. “Yes, I’m afraid Mr. Kitteridge has been assigned to another case, one with a far more serious charge. I have been given your case. I knew only this morning. So, I have come to learn as much as I can directly from you.” He indicated the other chair. “Sit down…”

  Sidney obeyed, and in watching him move, Daniel realized that he was emotionally exhausted and rigid with a fear he was trying very hard to hide. He looked stunned, rather than angry.

  “I haven’t been able to speak to Kitteridge since he came to see you,” Daniel began, “so I don’t know what he asked you. How much are you supposed to have embezzled, and from whom…precisely? I know it took place in the British Embassy in Washington.”

  “About a hundred pounds,” Sidney replied. “Not a fortune, but certainly a lot of money. Several weeks of my salary.”

  “All at one time?”

  “No, little by little. Five or ten pounds at a time.” He pushed his hair off his forehead. It seemed to be a nervous gesture. The manac
les rattled with each move.

  “How did they find out?”

  Sidney looked miserable. He avoided Daniel’s eyes. “It showed up on my bank account, and disappeared again, as if I’d spent it.”

  “Exactly how did you do that?”

  “I didn’t!”

  “How did they say you did it?”

  “Signed transfers for payments to people and companies that don’t exist. All legitimate things for the embassy to have bought, except that they didn’t.”

  “But it’s your name on the receipts, or whatever they are?”

  “Yes, and it looks like my signature, it just isn’t.”

  “Going on for how long?” Daniel asked.

  “Several years. But I didn’t do it, Mr. Pitt! I don’t have a lot of money. I may have a name reminiscent of a hero from history but I’m from a very ordinary family. My father died a long time ago. He was a good man, but not exceptional.” His voice cracked a little, and he mastered it with difficulty, pretending it was a cough rather than emotion. “Thank God my mother has gone, too. She…” Whatever he had been going to say, he changed his mind. “I have enough money, but not a lot,” he repeated, and then he shrugged very slightly. “It doesn’t matter. I can’t account for one hundred pounds. I play cards for pleasure, but I don’t gamble. It always seemed like a waste of time. I can’t afford to lose, and I can’t win unless someone else loses. I would say look at my purchases, but I don’t know what they will show. There must be something there that I don’t know about, and can’t explain.”

  Daniel was struggling for something to say. Either Sidney was telling the truth, or he was an extraordinarily good liar. Was he a good diplomat? Was he practiced at saying things he didn’t mean, being polite to people he disliked, or even despised? Making excuses? Representing his country, whether he thought it was right or wrong? Who had said patriotism was the last refuge of a scoundrel? Patriotic lies were honorable, the loyal thing to say, over and over again, until you believed them.