Betrayal at Lisson Grove (Treason at Lisson Grove)

Where was she? How could he find out without placing her in further danger? Who was he absolutely certain he could trust? A week ago, he would have sent Gower. Unwittingly he would have been giving them the perfect hostage.

Should he contact the Dublin police? How could he be sure that he could trust them either, in light of all the schemes and plots that seemed to be under way right in his own government branch?

Perhaps anonymity was her best defense, but his own helplessness was almost like a physical pain. He had all the forces of Special Branch at his fingertips, but no idea whom he could trust.

There was a knock on his door. The moment he answered it Austwick came in, looking grave and slightly smug. He had more papers in his hand.

Pitt was glad to be forced back into the present. “What have you?” he asked.

Austwick sat down without being asked. Pitt realized he would not have done that with Narraway.

“More reports from Manchester,” Austwick replied. “It does begin to look as if Latimer is right about this factory in Hyde. They are making guns, despite their denials. And then there’s the mess-up in Glasgow. We need to pay more attention to that, before it gets any bigger.”

“Last report said it was just young people protesting,” Pitt reminded him. “Narraway had it marked as better left alone.”

Austwick pulled his face into a grimace of distaste. “Well I think Narraway’s mind was hardly on the country’s interests over the last while. Unfortunately we don’t know how long his … inattention had been going on. Read it yourself and see what you think. I’ve been handling it since Narraway went, and I think he may have made a serious misjudgment. And we can’t afford to ignore Scotland either.”

Pitt swallowed his response. He did not trust Austwick, but he must not allow the man to see his doubt. All this felt like wasting time, of which he had far too little.

“What about the other reports from Europe on the socialists?” he asked. “Anything from Germany? And what about the Russian émigrés in Paris?”

“Nothing significant,” Austwick replied. “And nothing at all from Gower.” He looked at Pitt steadily, concern in his eyes.

Pitt kept his expression perfectly composed. “He won’t risk communication unless he has something of value to report. It all has to go through the local post office.”

Austwick shook his head. “I think it’s of secondary importance, honestly. West may have been killed simply on principle when they discovered he was an informant. He may not have possessed the crucial information we assumed he did.”

Austwick shifted his position a little and looked straight at Pitt. “There have been rumblings about great reform for years, you know. People strike postures and make speeches, but nothing serious happens, at least not here in Britain. I think our biggest danger was three or four years ago. There was a lot of unrest in the East End of London, which I know you are aware of, though much of it took place just before you joined the branch.”

That was a blatant reminder of how new Pitt was to this job. He saw the flicker of resentment in Austwick’s eyes as he said it. He wondered for a moment if the hostility he sensed was due to Austwick’s personal ambition having been thwarted. Then he remembered Gower bending over West’s body on the ground, and the blood. Either Austwick had nothing to do with it, or he was better at masking his emotions than Pitt had judged. He must be careful.

“Perhaps we’ll escape it,” he offered.

Austwick shifted in his chair again. “These are the reports in from Liverpool, and you’ll see some of the references to Ireland. Nothing dangerous as yet, but we need to make note of some of these names, and watch them.” He pushed across more papers, and Pitt bent to read them.

The afternoon followed the same pattern: more reports both written and verbal. A case of violence in a town in Yorkshire looked as if it was political and turned out not to be. A government minister was robbed in Piccadilly; and investigating it took up the rest of the day. The minister had been carrying sensitive papers. Fortunately it was not Pitt’s decision as to how seriously he should be reprimanded for carelessness. It was, however, up to him to decide with what crime the thief should be charged.

He weighed it with some consideration. He questioned the man, trying to judge whether he had known his victim was in the government, and if so that his attaché case might contain government papers. He was uncertain, even after several hours, but Narraway would not have asked advice, and neither would he.

Pitt decided that the disadvantages of letting the public know how easy it was to rob an inattentive minister outweighed the possible error of letting a man be charged with a lesser crime than the one he had intended to commit.

He went home in the evening tired and with little sense of achievement.

It changed the moment he opened the front door and Daniel came racing down the hall to greet him.