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“Not up-to-date,” Blackwell admitted. “But to the beginning of this year, at least. America is not that far away, not to certain classes of person: the rich, the political, those in trade, especially certain kinds of trade. And people don’t often change suddenly. Or have pasts beyond digging out. The source of all things almost certainly lies in the past, if you just know where to look. You find out how those documents got from the British Embassy in Washington to the police in London. That’s the first thing to unravel.”
Daniel rose to his feet reluctantly, his smile a bit less twisted. “Thank you, Roman.”
“You have a better idea?”
“No,” Daniel replied. “If I had, I’d be following it.”
Blackwell walked with him to the door. “Do your best, Daniel—for your own sake. It’s too early to make big decisions. You don’t know the half of it yet.”
CHAPTER
Ten
DANIEL DID NOT want to do any of the things Roman Blackwell had advised, but he knew they were all unavoidable. First, he must face the one he dreaded the most. If he did it badly, repercussions could last indefinitely. Even the idea of it hurt. During her four years away, he had forgotten how big a part of his life his friendship with Jemima had been. It was safe, funny, honest. It had survived all kinds of quarrels, hard times growing up, facing dilemmas, struggles to understand and accept adulthood, separation, responsibility. She would be affected deeply by how this turned out—what it exposed that would change the things she loved.
Daniel had known Cassie a matter of days, but he was already enchanted. To have her think of him as an enemy, someone who had hurt her mother and father, would be acutely painful. He had already seen that shadow in her eyes when she thought he was distressing her mother.
Charlotte and Thomas would understand, but they would still be hurt.
Being brave was so easily put into words. The reality offered only pain.
No use thinking about it. Do it!
He found Patrick at Keppel Street in the afternoon sun in the garden, casually pulling weeds and enjoying the sun. Cassie was lying on a rug, sound asleep, arms and legs spread, a stuffed toy dog beside her. Daniel glanced at her as he stood at the open French doors. He walked out and onto the path, then across the grass. He passed the sandpit, dim memories of playing in it slipping him through time for an instant. He knew every inch of this garden.
Patrick saw him and rubbed his hands on the grass before standing up. “Sorry. Still too dirty to shake.” He smiled.
Daniel wanted to stop and pull weeds with him. He even entertained the idea for a split second. He smiled back, a little twistedly. “I need to talk to you—get a bit of advice.”
“Come this way.” Patrick moved a dozen yards to the other end of the lawn and sat down, adjusting his position so he was still looking at Cassie. “About the case, I guess.”
“Wish it wasn’t,” Daniel said, sitting facing him. “But we must do it well, for all sorts of reasons. Practically, it won’t work if we don’t, and morally we’ll neither of us be happy if we cut corners or tell half-truths. And it could get appealed! And dishonesty—”
Patrick held up his hands. “Did nobody teach you one argument of proof is good, ten makes you suspect them all?”
“Yes. Frequently,” Daniel admitted. “But a chain of evidence is as strong as its weakest link.”
Patrick shook his head. “Get to it, man! What is it?”
“It’s about these documents relating to the missing money, which Sidney signed,” Daniel replied. “It certainly seems to be his signature. That isn’t a problem. Thing is, we know who handed them over, but who compiled them at the British Embassy and why? And who brought them across the Atlantic and gave them to the British police, and why? Why now?”
Patrick stared at him.
“I care, because I need to question him,” Daniel explained. “That’s about the only defense Sidney’s got. And we have to defend him. Apart from the fact that every man deserves a defense, if we don’t make a good job of it, it’ll look connived at, and grounds for appeal—”
“Of course,” Patrick interrupted. “I’m not trying to ruin your career!” He looked surprised, even hurt. “I don’t rightly know if he’s guilty of the embezzlement. But if he could assault Rebecca and steal the pendant, that’s probably not the only rotten thing he’s done and got away with. Jem doesn’t want to raise the assault at all. She thinks it will only hurt Rebecca more in the future. Maybe it would be enough to convict him of the embezzlement.” He frowned. “Tobias wants it all brought in…but I’m not sure. If it were my daughter, I think I’d…” He looked over at where Cassie was still asleep on the rug in the grass.
“You’d kill him,” Daniel said, only half joking.
“Probably,” Patrick agreed. “If Jem didn’t get there first.”
Daniel waited a moment or two. “Turn her over,” he suggested. “She could get a little burned. Sun is hot today.”
Patrick got to his feet and did as Daniel had suggested, moving Cassie very gently, so as not to wake her. He came back and sat down. “I don’t know the answer to any of these questions,” he said. “But I’m pretty sure the truth lies with a man in the embassy in Washington named Morley Cross. He may well be able to tell you something of w
hat happened to the papers after they left him.” He hesitated a moment. “I am still in touch with people in the Washington police department by wire. There can’t be many ships docked from America in the right time period. It has to be after Sidney left, or the papers wouldn’t have come here after him. And before the police arrested him, because that gave them cause. How will that help?”
“Not sure. But Kitteridge wired the Washington police to check into this Morley Cross. When we find out who he passed those papers to, to bring them to London, we could learn a lot more. At least we’ll look as if we’re really trying. Good idea in court to know the answers before you ask the questions.”
