Stoker shot a questioning glance at Pitt.
It was too late to back out now. He had made this decision. He must live with it.
Together they followed, at a distance just great enough to make it look like chance, but careful not to lose sight of them.
They were going to walk across the top, the already famous path between the two towers that spanned the entire river, so that they would have one of the most spectacular views in London. Perhaps getting wet was a very small price to pay. Considering the now torrential rain, they might even have the place to themselves.
To themselves! Suddenly the significance of that shot through Pitt as if he had been physically struck. He started to race up the steps two at a time, Stoker behind him. They burst through the doors on to the walkway high above the river. The first drops had now turned into a blinding deluge and they could hardly see it. They could just make out two figures standing near the rail looking over.
They started to run towards them, but slipping in the streaming rain, half blinded by it, hearing nothing but the beat of water and the splashing of their feet.
Talbot was extraordinarily strong. He caught her from behind and threw his weight into lifting her. She went over the edge, hesitated for a moment, struggling, then plunged into the void. In the thunder of the rain they did not even hear her strike the river below, but he knew that within moments the swift and icy current would drown her.
Talbot stared for a moment, then turned to see Pitt only feet away from him, Stoker almost level with him.
Pitt smiled, or perhaps it was more a baring of the teeth.
Talbot smiled back. ‘Terrible accident,’ he said a little hoarsely. ‘Or perhaps it was suicide. I was pursuing her. Not really my job, more yours, but you seem a little slow.’ His voice was raised above the noise, but perfectly steady. ‘She was passing secret information on to a foreign power, or maybe you hadn’t worked that out yet. Better this way, perhaps? We can’t afford a public trial. Make us look like fools. Make our enemies rejoice and our allies despair of us. Do more harm than the information itself.’
‘Quite,’ Pitt agreed, taking a deep breath to try to stop himself from shaking. ‘Treason trials are extremely embarrassing. I always do what I can to avoid them. Trials for murder, on the other hand, are a completely different thing.’
Talbot froze as a terrible realisation struck him.
Pitt smiled again. ‘Edom Talbot, I am arresting you on a charge of murdering Ailsa Kynaston. Lover’s quarrel, I imagine. That’s what it looked like, don’t you think, Stoker? Citizen’s arrest, of course, but it’ll stand. As you say, nobody wants trials for treason. Makes us look incompetent.’
‘Definitely, sir,’ Stoker agreed. ‘Seems the lady rebuffed him. Very hard thing to take, sir, women laughing at you, scorning you like that. Saw it myself. Damn silly place to tell a short-tempered man that you’re finished with him.’
Talbot gave him a shrivelling look. Stoker smiled back at him, as calm as the sun, which was reappearing through the wind-torn clouds.
Pitt went back up the river straight to the House of Commons and sent a message inside that he required to speak with Jack Radley immediately, on a matter of state.
He waited twenty minutes before Jack came out of the Chamber into the hall, treading softly in the echoing vault of it. He looked very pale.
‘What is it?’ he said in hushed silence of murmur and the soft shuffling of feet as others met and parted, or entered the Chamber he had just left. ‘What’s happened?’
Very briefly Pitt told him.
‘I called you out to ask you to accept the position to work with Kynaston-’ he began.
‘But you’ve just said he’s guilty of treason!’ Jack all but snarled the words.
‘Exactly,’ Pitt agreed, grasping Jack’s arm. He held it so hard Jack pulled back, using all his weight, but it made no difference. ‘He has sent real and important information to the Swedes, and thus God knows who else, in order to settle a debt of honour owed by his dead brother. I am going to have him now send them false information to settle his own debt — to us. If you agree, you will work for him, and oversee it …’
Jack’s eyes widened and he stopped pulling away so completely Pitt had to adjust his balance rather quickly.
‘Will you?’ Pitt asked.
Jack gripped his hand so hard Pitt winced. ‘I will!’ he said fiercely. ‘You’ll never regret it, Thomas!’
‘I know,’ Pitt answered, returning the grip. ‘Now I’d better go and inform Kynaston!’
Pitt went to see Dudley Kynaston that evening. He found him alone in his study, sitting beneath the portrait of Bennett. He looked pale but composed.
‘I know Ailsa is dead,’ he said quietly as Pitt closed the door. ‘Did she speak to you?’
‘No,’ Pitt replied. ‘But it wasn’t necessary. I know why Talbot killed her. I tried to save her, but I was too late. But probably it is better this way.’ He remained standing with Kynaston looking up at him, his face white, eyes hollow.
‘You know …’ Kynaston said huskily.
‘Yes. Probably more than you do,’ Pitt replied. ‘I know that she was Ingrid’s sister and she never forgave Bennett for her death …’
Kynaston stood up from the chair. ‘It wasn’t Bennett’s fault, for God’s sake! She was infatuated with him! He never gave her … Ingrid’s sister? Are you … sure?’
‘Yes, of course I am! And it doesn’t matter now what the truth of it was,’ Pitt said gently. ‘It probably was no more than a tragedy, but Ailsa blamed Bennett for it. She could not accept that the sister she adored was mentally fragile, obsessed with a man who did not love her. It was Harold Sundstrom who rescued Bennett for you, so you owed him a debt you could never repay: Bennett’s debt. I understand that. But it is still treason.’
‘I know,’ Kynaston admitted quietly. ‘I suppose if I had been thinking clearly I would always have known. It began in such a small way! Just a simple question answered. It seemed almost harmless, just interest.’
‘And you were in love with Ailsa …’
‘Infatuated,’ Kynaston amended. ‘Ingrid was fifteen, you know! God! How could I blame her when I have no more sense myself? Then it was too late … I was terrified when they found that body in the gravel pit. I was so afraid it was poor Kitty. I thought they’d killed her to warn me!’
‘Kitty is alive and well,’ Pitt assured him. It was absurd to feel sorry for him, and yet he did.
‘I’m glad. Whatever will happen to Rosalind? She doesn’t deserve this either …’
Pitt’s decision was already complete and he intended to carry it through. Once committed to, it would be impossible to reverse without acute embarrassment to the Government.
‘Nothing will happen to her,’ he said firmly. ‘I have no intention of arresting you. That’s not what I’ve come here for. I know you have been passing secret information to Ailsa, which she then passed on to Edom Talbot, who sold it to Sundstrom, incidentally the father of Ailsa’s first husband. Perhaps you don’t know that?’
Kynaston stared at him, eyes hollow. He gave a minute shake of his head.
‘You are going to go on passing naval information to Sundstrom,’ Pitt continued. ‘We will find a way for you to do it. Clearly he will know that Ailsa has died, and that Edom Talbot killed her in a lovers’ quarrel. Seems she rejected him, and he couldn’t cope with it. He will be tried for murder and found guilty.’
‘But …’ Kynaston stammered.
Pitt smiled at him. ‘Sir John Ransom will give you the information we wish passed on, and you will be given a new contact, now that Ailsa is no longer available. It will come through Jack Radley. I know that he shall accept the position you offered him after all, because I have seen to it.’
‘But he’s totally loyal!’ Kynaston protested. ‘He wouldn’t-’