Treachery at Lancaster Gate by Anne Perry Page A

reputation, his charm that matters! Of course we’ve got other people who could be schooled to say and do the right things. I could do it myself, with a bit of guidance. But I don’t have Godfrey’s personal connections. He’s spent a lifetime making friends, building up a network of obligations and debts of honor and gratitude within China. That sort of thing takes time, which we haven’t got if we go back to the beginning.”
    Pitt hesitated.
    “We need Duncannon,” Jack insisted. “I’ve no idea if his son has anything to do with the case or not. It’s possible he could have got himself caught up on the fringes. Solve it without his help. Or leave it a week or two until the treaty is sealed. Please!”
    “I’m not sure that I can,” Pitt said slowly, searching for words as he went. “If the rest of the investigation comes back to him, I can’t tell the police not to question him.”
    Jack’s face was tense, his voice hard-edged. “What can he tell you? That someone he spoke to bragged that he knows where to get dynamite? You’ll get that through another source. Don’t tell me you only follow up one man. You must have men in every cell of anarchists worth bothering with. Even I know about the Autonomy Club. You must know of a dozen other such places. Alexander Duncannon might be the easiest source for you to question, and the safest. He’s a damaged young man in plain sight, and you can go and find him without having to look. He had a bad accident and is still vulnerable. Leave him alone, Thomas. Get the same information somewhere else.”
    Pitt saw the anxiety in Jack’s face and knew there was far more that he was unable to say. But was it because of the contract that he could not go into detail, or was it his own stake in the matter? Jack had made too many serious errors of judgment over the last few years. He had done no more than any other man in his place might have, but the results had been on the brink of catastrophic. Treason and murder had been involved. Jack was a diplomat, not a member of Special Branch. He had trusted people everyone else had also seen as above suspicion, and been wrong, but he had been close to these men; had worked hand in glove with them. It was Pitt who had learned the truth, and put together the pieces that formed a far different picture.
    But as it was, Jack would be seen, at least by some, as being easily fooled, with flawed judgment, not safe to promote to higher office. Was that what troubled him this time? He could not afford to be closely allied to another man stained by scandal, let alone mass murder.
    “He hasn’t given me any information,” Pitt said. “He is a possible suspect…”
    “In bombing the house in Lancaster Gate?” Jack asked incredulously. “Don’t be absurd!” But even as he said it, his voice wavered minutely. “Why on earth would he do such a thing? He has unsuitable friends, that’s all. He’s young. Twenty-three or -four. I had some unsuitable friends at that age. Didn’t you? No, I suppose you didn’t. You were probably walking the beat in some domestic suburb and helping old ladies across the road.” There was anger in him now. Or was it fear?
    “Probably,” Pitt agreed. “Whereas you were helping the young ones.”
    Jack blushed very faintly. He had moved from one country house to another, as a cheerful, handsome, and hugely entertaining guest. He had never intended to marry any of the highly eligible young ladies. He would not have been acceptable to their families because he had no money with which to support them. But everybody liked having him as a guest. He made them laugh, he flattered them, he was nice to everyone. He dressed beautifully and rode a horse with skill and grace. He was wise enough never to drink more than he could hold and had more sense than to sleep with the wife of anyone who mattered. In fact he was discreet enough never to damage anyone’s reputation at all. They were not skills everyone