enemies.
Snood felt relaxed about the whole affair, though stumbling up several flights of stairs with a hood over his head had not been pleasant. The most difficult thing during the interrogation was remembering what he was not supposed to know. He could claim to have deduced that the cloud of ‘poison gas’ was somehow linked to Carmichael ’s death, but as he kept telling his interrogators, the official word was that the deaths were caused by a gas leak. What could that possibly have to do with him? It was not his fault the boy had killed himself.
Two men asked him questions, one angry, the other conciliatory. They asked questions in turn. They could see his face though he couldn’t see theirs. That really didn’t seem fair, or at all how the British did things. As he kept telling them, he had rights as a citizen.
In a small room next door, a middle-aged woman and Trelawney sat listening to everything Snood said. A perforated panel between the rooms meant that everything said in either could be heard in the other. Only when the interrogation finished and Snood was removed to a holding cell did they talk. Trelawney opened a blackout curtain on the window, letting in the light of morning.
Through the window, he saw the river Thames curve its way through London . A railway bridge complete with a cast iron pedestrian footpath crossed the river a short distance away. It was a new bridge and sat squat and sullen in the river. Trelawney considered the bridge particularly ugly and it had ruined his view, even though the sight of steam trains crossing over it gave him a thrill. But then, like many an English gentleman, he was a hopeless romantic when it came to steam engines.
“Well?” he asked the woman lounging deep in a comfortable winged leather chair. Trelawney pulled twice on the chain hanging by the wall to summon a servant with refreshments.
The woman took her time before answering. She had some unfinished knitting on her lap. Knitting helped her to concentrate. “None of this will stand up in court, you understand?”
“I know the law, Belinda, but what do you feel?”
“He is lying. I believe he killed the boy and is feeling deeply satisfied with his work.”
Trelawney nodded.
“If he killed Carmichael then the boy was working for him and the bind must have been supplied by Snood. We know the nature of the bind. It was stolen from MM3 and that implies we also have a traitor somewhere in our midst.”
“That may be so,” Belinda said and sighed. “But we have no evidence of it. The law forbids me to do to a British citizen what I have just done and I am planning to forget this conversation ever happened before the morning is out.”
There was a knock at the door and a maid with a trolley carrying tea and biscuits entered the room. They stilled their conversation until the maid had left the room
“I understand your position, and you know I trust my life to your discretion.” Trelawney said as he paced the room.
“What will you do?”
“A leak in MM3 puts more than just my career and honor at stake. It strikes at the heart of the Empire’s one clear advantage over our enemies. This could be simply about money or it may indicate the presence of one of our enemies operating deep in the heart of the Empire. I have to know which it is and I need to know quickly. I will inform Her Majesty of the graveness of the situation at our next meeting.”
“You will hold an investigation?”
“No, the traitors would go to ground if I did that. Then I might never find them. I need bait to set a trap. I think I have two young people who will fit perfectly to the task in hand. Yes, I think they will do fine.”
“You have never stooped to using children before,” Belinda said disapprovingly. “I take it you are referring to our two young survivors?”
“That’s the point, Belinda, they have proved themselves to be survivors, and they will need that and more for the task I have in mind. Oh yes,
Snood felt relaxed about the whole affair, though stumbling up several flights of stairs with a hood over his head had not been pleasant. The most difficult thing during the interrogation was remembering what he was not supposed to know. He could claim to have deduced that the cloud of ‘poison gas’ was somehow linked to Carmichael ’s death, but as he kept telling his interrogators, the official word was that the deaths were caused by a gas leak. What could that possibly have to do with him? It was not his fault the boy had killed himself.
Two men asked him questions, one angry, the other conciliatory. They asked questions in turn. They could see his face though he couldn’t see theirs. That really didn’t seem fair, or at all how the British did things. As he kept telling them, he had rights as a citizen.
In a small room next door, a middle-aged woman and Trelawney sat listening to everything Snood said. A perforated panel between the rooms meant that everything said in either could be heard in the other. Only when the interrogation finished and Snood was removed to a holding cell did they talk. Trelawney opened a blackout curtain on the window, letting in the light of morning.
Through the window, he saw the river Thames curve its way through London . A railway bridge complete with a cast iron pedestrian footpath crossed the river a short distance away. It was a new bridge and sat squat and sullen in the river. Trelawney considered the bridge particularly ugly and it had ruined his view, even though the sight of steam trains crossing over it gave him a thrill. But then, like many an English gentleman, he was a hopeless romantic when it came to steam engines.
“Well?” he asked the woman lounging deep in a comfortable winged leather chair. Trelawney pulled twice on the chain hanging by the wall to summon a servant with refreshments.
The woman took her time before answering. She had some unfinished knitting on her lap. Knitting helped her to concentrate. “None of this will stand up in court, you understand?”
“I know the law, Belinda, but what do you feel?”
“He is lying. I believe he killed the boy and is feeling deeply satisfied with his work.”
Trelawney nodded.
“If he killed Carmichael then the boy was working for him and the bind must have been supplied by Snood. We know the nature of the bind. It was stolen from MM3 and that implies we also have a traitor somewhere in our midst.”
“That may be so,” Belinda said and sighed. “But we have no evidence of it. The law forbids me to do to a British citizen what I have just done and I am planning to forget this conversation ever happened before the morning is out.”
There was a knock at the door and a maid with a trolley carrying tea and biscuits entered the room. They stilled their conversation until the maid had left the room
“I understand your position, and you know I trust my life to your discretion.” Trelawney said as he paced the room.
“What will you do?”
“A leak in MM3 puts more than just my career and honor at stake. It strikes at the heart of the Empire’s one clear advantage over our enemies. This could be simply about money or it may indicate the presence of one of our enemies operating deep in the heart of the Empire. I have to know which it is and I need to know quickly. I will inform Her Majesty of the graveness of the situation at our next meeting.”
“You will hold an investigation?”
“No, the traitors would go to ground if I did that. Then I might never find them. I need bait to set a trap. I think I have two young people who will fit perfectly to the task in hand. Yes, I think they will do fine.”
“You have never stooped to using children before,” Belinda said disapprovingly. “I take it you are referring to our two young survivors?”
“That’s the point, Belinda, they have proved themselves to be survivors, and they will need that and more for the task I have in mind. Oh yes,
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