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ay could continue to use him, more or less to manipulate him, to run the Special Branch.’
‘That is nonsense!’ fford Croft shook his head. ‘Are you sure you did not misunderstand—’
‘Yes, I’m quite sure.’ Daniel cut across him in a way he would not have dared even a day ago. ‘I’ve read his notes. They are incontestable.’
‘The staff let you?’
‘They imagined I was there to save him, if it is possible. They know that you are his lawyer. That is your job.’ He looked straight at fford Croft without flickering or lowering his eyes.
fford Croft said nothing.
‘What is my job, sir?’ Daniel asked. ‘To save the man, if I can? To see if he is being framed by Special Branch, or someone in it? Do we expose this frame, break it? Or is my job to see that it fits, and he’s hanged, and his notes destroyed? All I have done so far is make sure they say what they seem to, lock them away and ask the butler to secure the study door, so no one else reads them.’
fford Croft stared at him as if he were some dangerous creature that had materialised before him without warning. He looked flustered, suddenly very much older and utterly confused.
Daniel felt guilty for talking to him this way. He could not now say he had not suspected fford Croft of some sort of complicity; it was all too plain in his manner that he had. It would add insult to injury for him to pretend.
‘This is appalling!’ fford Croft breathed out slowly. He seemed to have shrunk in his chair. ‘I . . . I had no idea . . .’
Daniel had no right to ask, but he needed to know. ‘Why did you take this case, sir? We had very little chance of winning it. The evidence is overwhelmingly against Graves, and I didn’t find anything to mitigate it at all, except that he had enemies, well-deserved ones.’ He did not add that he refused to believe Special Branch had framed him to silence him, although as it filled his mind, he knew the first suspicion would fall on his father, but it might extend further as well. His colleagues were very loyal to him and to the service in general. Or perhaps the detail Graves gave implicated others even beyond Special Branch.
fford Croft was biting his lip. He seemed to be having some difficulty in deciding what to say. He looked at Daniel, but Daniel did not look away, even though he now was embarrassed, even sorry for his employer. That might be something fford Croft would not forgive, from anyone, let alone someone as junior as Daniel. This could be the end of his job. How would he explain that to his father?
But then that might be the least of his worries.
‘A long time ago,’ fford Croft began, ‘thirty years, perhaps – it doesn’t matter now; some things are timeless . . .’
Daniel sat without moving.
‘. . . I knew Graves’ father. He and I were friends.’ fford Croft looked down at the desk. ‘He got into a spot of trouble. Rather serious trouble. I was newly qualified then, but I was good. I had a few notable victories. Not unlike you, maybe, in a year or two.’ His smile was sad, regretful. ‘He asked me for my help. I . . . I let him down. I made a mistake. Not a big one, but enough to lose the case. He was guilty, I knew that. But there were mitigating circumstances. In defending Russell now, I’m repaying that old debt.’
The seconds ticked by, and then he looked up at Daniel at last. ‘I owe him this much. It is as simple as that. And before you say so, I know that my chief obligation is to the law, and not to what I may consider my own idea of justice. Andrew Graves lost everything. He need not have, had I been wiser and more diligent. I owe Russell Graves the best effort I have, even if I despise him personally and think him guilty. We are not judge or jury, Pitt. We are advocates. Russell Graves never told me he was guilty of his wife’s death. He has always insisted he was not. It is my job before the law to defend him to the best of my ability. And that means of yours, too. This other . . . is monstrous. I know nothing of it. But it does not mean he killed his wife. In fact, it gives sufficient motive to several others to raise reasonable doubt. We have let him down also.’
‘No, sir!’ Daniel said loudly. ‘He knew he was writing such a book. He did not tell any of us. I can well see why he did not tell me, but in honesty he should have told you.’
‘I have known your father for years, Pitt, not well, but well enough to know that the suggestions you say Graves makes are not true. Unfortunately, the public does not know what Special Branch does. They do not know of all the disasters they prevent. That is the nature of the office.’
‘And we are going to use it to seek another trial? Or is it too late?’
fford Croft’s face lit with a bitter humour. ‘That is surely the last thing you want? Apart from destroying your father’s reputation, to open up the security services to such public review would be little short of treason. We cannot even mention it in open court. And Russell Graves must have known that.’
‘Then wouldn’t it be treasonous to publish this book?’ Daniel asked.
‘Possibly, but it could be veiled in such implication as merely to be libellous, although Victor Narraway is dead, and so is Lady Vespasia. They cannot sue; one cannot libel the dead. And if Thomas Pitt decided to sue for libel, because Graves called him deceitful or corrupt, it would be pointless. Once you have lost the public’s confidence, you cannot regain it.’
‘Why would Graves write such a thing?’
‘Possibly for money,’ fford Croft said wearily ‘To draw attention to himself. To have some imagined revenge.’ He shrugged. ‘It doesn’t matter. The thing is to see that it is not published. And hanging him will not necessarily do that. There may be other pages, notes that the publisher already has.’
A coldness settled around Daniel’s chest, almost too tightly for him to breathe. ‘Apart from that, sir, if he did not kill Ebony Graves, then who did?’
Marcus looked at him.
‘He could defend himself, sir,’ Daniel went on, ‘by saying he was being made to look guilty by someone in Special Branch. That would be his ultimate revenge. He can say that to anyone – to Kitteridge, next time he sees him. To an appeal judge, if we get an appeal. Even to a journalist! I suppose he could raise his father’s case and say that you are trying to silence him . . . if he’s desperate enough.’
fford Croft started to speak, then faltered to a stop.
Daniel said nothing.
