Betrayal at Lisson Grove (Treason at Lisson Grove)

“Papa! Papa, I made a boat! Come and look.” He grasped Pitt’s hand and tugged at him.

Pitt smiled and followed him willingly down to the kitchen, where the rich smell of dinner cooking filled the air. Something was bubbling in a big pan on the stove and the table was littered with pieces of newspapers and a bowl of white paste. Minnie Maude was standing with a pair of scissors in her hands. As usual, her hair was all over the place, pinned up over and over again as she had lost patience with it. In pride of place in the center of the mess was a rather large papier-mâché boat, with two sticks for masts and several different lengths of tapers for bowsprit, yardarms, and a boom.

Minnie Maude looked abashed to see him, clearly earlier than she had expected.

“See!” Daniel said triumphantly, pointing to the ship. “Minnie Maude showed me how to do it.” He gave a little shrug. “And Jemima helped a bit … well … a lot.”

Pitt felt a sudden and overwhelming warmth rush up inside him. He looked at Daniel’s face shining with pride, and then at the boat.

“It’s magnificent,” he said, emotion all but choking his voice. “I’ve never seen anything better.” He turned to Minnie Maude, who was standing wide-eyed. She was clearly waiting to be criticized for playing when she should have been working, and having dinner on the table for him.

“Thank you,” he said to her sincerely. “Please don’t move it until it is safe to do so without risk of damage.”

“What … what about dinner, sir?” she asked, beginning to breathe again.

“We’ll clear the newspapers and the paste, and eat around it,” he answered. “Where’s Jemima?”

“She’s reading,” Daniel answered instantly. “She took my Boys’ Own! Why doesn’t she read a girls’ book?”

“ ’Cos they’re boring,” Jemima answered from the doorway. She had slipped in without anyone hearing her come along the corridor. She looked past Pitt at the table, and the ship at the center. “You’ve got the masts on! That’s beautiful.” She gave Pitt a radiant smile. “Hello, Papa. Look what we made.”

“I see it,” he replied, putting his arm around her shoulder. “It’s magnificent.”

“How is Mama?” she asked, an edge of worry in her voice.

“Well,” he answered, lying smoothly and holding her a little closer. “She’s helping a friend in bad trouble, but she’ll be home soon. Now let’s help clear the table and have dinner.”

Afterward he sat alone in the parlor as silence settled over the house. Daniel and Jemima had gone up to bed. Minnie Maude had finished in the kitchen and went up as well. He heard every creak of her tread on the stairs. Far from being comforting, the absence of all voices or movement made the heaviness swirl back in again like a fog. The islands of light from the lamps on the wall made the shadows seem deeper than they were. He knew every surface in the room. He also knew they were all immaculately clean, as if Charlotte had been there to supervise this new girl whose only fault was that she was not Gracie. She was good; it was only the familiarity she lacked. The papier-mâché ship made him smile. It wasn’t a trivial thing; it was very important indeed. Minnie Maude Mudway was a success.

He sat in the armchair, thinking of Jemima’s pride and Daniel’s happiness for as long as he could. Finally he turned his mind to the following day and to the fact that he must go and tell Croxdale the truth about Gower, and the betrayal that might run throughout the service.

THE FOLLOWING DAY AT Lisson Grove was filled with the same necessary trivia as the one before. There was news from Paris that was only vaguely disturbing: a definite increase in activity among the people Special Branch was watching, though if it had any meaning he was unable to determine what it was. It was much the same sort of thing he might have done had Narraway been there, and he in his own job. The difference was the weight of responsibility, the decisions that he could no longer refer upward. Now they all came to him. Other men who had previously been his equals were now obliged to report to him, for Pitt needed to know of anything at all that might threaten the safety of Her Majesty’s realm, and her government, the peace and prosperity of Britain.

Late that morning he finally obtained an interview with Sir Gerald Croxdale. He felt the urgent need to tell Croxdale of Gower’s death, and how it had happened. No report had come in yet, as far as he knew, but it could not be long now.

Pitt arrived at Whitehall late in the afternoon. The sun was still warm and the air was soft as he walked across from the park and along the street to the appropriate entrance. Several carriages passed him, the women in them wearing wide hats to protect their faces from the light, their muslin sleeves drifting in the breeze. Horse brasses winked with bright reflections, and some doors carried family crests painted on them.