“Both.” Narraway’s eyes were steady. “And yes, it’s a Liberal seat, and he’s Conservative. But that doesn’t ease my mind, and if it eases yours, then you’re a fool!”
“It doesn’t,” Pitt said coldly. “He’ll have a reason. There’ll be somebody he can bribe or intimidate, some place where the Inner Circle has its power he can use. Who is the Liberal candidate?”
Narraway nodded very slowly, still looking at Pitt. “A new man, one Aubrey Serracold.”
Pitt asked the obvious. “Is he Inner Circle, and will stand down at the last moment, or throw the election in some other way?”
“No.” Narraway said it with certainty, but he did not explain how he knew. If he had sources somewhere deep inside the Inner Circle, he did not disclose them, even to his own men. Pitt would have thought less of him if he had. “If I could see where it was coming from, or how, I wouldn’t need you to stay in London and watch,” Narraway continued. “Throwing you out of Bow Street may prove to be one of their greatest mistakes.” It was a reminder of their power, and the injustice against Pitt. Precise knowledge of what he was saying sparkled hard and bright in his eyes, and he made no pretense to hide it. They both knew he did not need to.
“I can’t affect the vote!” Pitt said bitterly. It was no longer an argument against losing his holiday and his time with Charlotte and the children, it was helplessness in the face of an insoluble problem. He could see nowhere even to begin, let alone to achieve a victory.
“No,” Narraway agreed. “If I wanted something like that done I have more skilled men for it than you.”
“It would also make you little better than Voisey,” Pitt said with chill.
Narraway sighed, shifting his position to one more at ease. “You are naive, Pitt, but I knew that. I work with the tools I have, and I don’t try to saw wood with a screwdriver. You will watch and listen. You will learn who are Voisey’s tools and how he uses them. You will learn Serracold’s weaknesses and where they may be exploited. And if we are fortunate enough that Voisey has any unguarded vulnerabilities, then you will find them and inform me immediately.” He breathed in and out very slowly. “What I may choose to do about him is not your concern. Understand me in that, Pitt! You are not exercising your conscience at the expense of the ordinary men and women of this country. You know only a small part of the picture, and you are not in a position to make grand moral judgments.” There was not a shred of any kind of humor in his eyes or his mouth.
The flippant answer died on Pitt’s tongue. What Narraway was asking of him seemed all but impossible. Had he any idea of the real power of the Inner Circle? It was a secret society of men sworn to support each other above all interests or loyalties apart. They existed in cells, no one man knowing the identities of more than a handful of others, but obedient to the demands of the Circle. He knew of no instance in which one had betrayed another to the outside world. Internal justice was immediate and lethal; it was the more deadly because one never knew who else was Circle. It could be your superior, or some ordinary clerk of whom you took little notice. It could be your doctor, your bank manager or even your clergyman. Only one thing were you certain of, it was not your wife. No woman was allowed any part in it or knowledge of it whatever.
“I know the seat is Liberal,” Narraway was going on. “But the political climate at the moment is turning extreme. The Socialists are not only noisy but making actual headway in some areas.”
“You said Voisey was standing as a Tory,” Pitt pointed out. “Why?”
“Because there will be a Conservative backlash,” Narraway replied. “If the Socialists go far enough, and mistakes are made, then it could sweep the Tories into power for a long time—quite long enough for Voisey to become Lord Chancellor. Even Prime Minister one day.”
The thought was cold and ugly, and certainly too real to dismiss. To turn away from it as far-fetched was to hand Voisey the ultimate weapon.
“You said Parliament rises in four days?” Pitt asked.
“That’s right,” Narraway agreed. “You’ll start this afternoon.” He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Pitt.”
“What?” Charlotte said incredulously. She was standing at the bottom of the stairs facing Pitt as he had come in through the front door. Her face was flushed with exertion, and now temper.
“I have to stay because there’s going to be a general election,” he repeated. “Voisey’s going to stand!”
She stared at him. For a moment all the memories of Whitechapel came back, and she understood. Then she closed it from her mind. “And what are you supposed to do about it?” she demanded. “You can’t stop him from standing, and you can’t stop people from voting for him if they want to. It’s monstrous, but it is we who made him into a hero because it was the only way to stop him. The republicans won’t even speak to him now, let alone elect him. Why can’t you let them deal with him? They’ll be furious enough to shoot him! Just don’t stop them. Arrive too late.”
He tried to smile. “Unfortunately, I can’t rely on their doing that efficiently enough to be of any use to us. We have only about ten days.”
“You have three weeks’ holiday!” She bit back sudden tears of disappointment. “It’s not fair! What can you do? Tell everybody he’s a liar, that he was behind the conspiracy to overthrow the throne?” She shook her head. “Nobody even knows there was one! He’d have you sued for slander, or more likely locked up as a lunatic. We made sure everyone believed he practically single-handedly did something wonderful for the Queen. She thinks he’s marvelous. The Prince of Wales and all his friends will be behind him.” She sniffed fiercely. “And no one will beat them—not with Randolph Churchill and Lord Salisbury as well.”
He leaned against the newel post. “I know,” he admitted. “I wish I could tell the Prince of Wales how close Voisey came to destroying him, but we have no proof now.” He reached forward and touched her cheek. “I’m sorry. I know I haven’t much chance, but I have to try.”
The tears brimmed over her cheeks. “I’ll unpack in the morning. I’m too tired to do it now. What on earth am I going to tell Daniel and Jemima—and Edward? They’ve been looking forward to it so much—”
“Don’t unpack,” he interrupted. “You go . . .”
“Alone?” Her voice rose to a squeak.
“Take Gracie. I’ll manage.” He did not want to tell her how much it was for her safety. At the moment she was angry and disappointed, but in time she would realize he was challenging Voisey again.
“What will you eat? What will you wear?” she protested.
“Mrs. Brody can cook something for me, and do the linen,” he answered. “Don’t worry. Take the children, enjoy it with them. Whether Voisey wins or loses, there’s nothing I can do after the results are in. I’ll come down then.”
“There’ll be no time left!” she said angrily. “Results go on coming in for weeks!”
“He’s standing for a London seat. It’ll be one of the first.”
“It could still be days!”
“Charlotte, I can’t help it!”
Her voice was barely controlled. “I know! Don’t be so damnably reasonable. Don’t you even mind? Doesn’t it infuriate you?” She swung her hand violently, fist tight. “It isn’t fair! They have loads of other people. First they throw you out of Bow Street and send you to live in some wretched rooms in Spitalfields, then when you save the government and the throne and heaven knows what else, they reinstate you—then throw you out again! Now they’re taking your only holiday . . .” She gasped for breath and it turned into a sob. “And for what? Nothing at all! You can’t stop Voisey if people are stupid enough to believe him. I hate Special Branch! It seems they don’t have to answer to anyone! They do whatever they like and there’s nobody to stop them.”