Long Spoon Lane (15 page)

“I know. I know,” Emily surrendered, lowering her eyes. “And what we would have liked doesn’t matter anyway, it’s what we have that we must deal with. There are some good people against the bill—Somerset Carlisle, of course. He would be.” She named half a dozen other members of Parliament with wry, slightly disparaging comments. “And of course several of their prosperous constituents are crying out for peace in the streets and safety in the home, a return of the rule of law, and so on. They are saying the police are ineffectual because we don’t give them the power or the weapons they need.” She looked very steadily at Charlotte. “One of the most serious opponents of the bill, and best speaker against it, is Charles Voisey.”

“Oh.” Charlotte’s mind raced. She remembered a dark night on Dartmoor, fleeing the rented cottage with Gracie and the children; Tellman helping them; then long evenings alone in Keppel Street because Pitt was in Whitechapel and she had no idea when he would be home, or even if he would be at all. He had had to live there in lodgings, walk the alleys in the failing gaslight and the shadows. It was all Voisey’s doing, his guilt and his hatred. It made most perfect sense that he would fight this battle, even if only to thwart Wetron. “Not the ally I would have chosen,” Charlotte said aloud, smiling ironically. “But perhaps better than none.”

“I would rather look for others,” Emily said curtly. “By the way, his sister, Mrs. Cavendish, is back in society, you know. There is even talk that she may marry again, and well. But that is by the way. I shall have to learn what more I can about the members. You know, sometimes I wish women did have the vote, then perhaps people would be obliged to listen to us with more attention.”

“We can hardly afford to wait for that!” Charlotte retorted. “But by all means let us think whose aid we might enlist now.”

They considered it for some time, making suggestions and adopting or abandoning them. Working together on a plan was something Charlotte had missed, and there was a warmth to it, in spite of the gravity of the subject. It was almost time for luncheon when they heard Jack’s footsteps outside, and the moment later he stood in the doorway. He looked harassed, and surprised to see Charlotte.

Emily turned towards him, then stood up quickly. There was a solicitude in her manner that was not characteristic, and Charlotte knew her well enough to read her fear in it. She greeted Jack; he spoke to both of them, but he looked as if he had anxieties on his mind, and was disconcerted not to find Emily alone.

“We were talking of the Police Bill,” Charlotte said, by way of explaining her presence. “Thomas is very unhappy about it.”

“Yes, I know,” Jack agreed as he sat down. “He saw me earlier this morning.”

Emily stood in the middle of the room. The sunlight fell in bright patterns on the carpet and the polished wood in the wide margins around it. The perfume of the late tulips was heady in the warmth.

“We were trying to think who else might be helpful,” Emily said. “We have a few ideas.”

Jack frowned. “I would prefer you did not involve yourself,” he told her. “I appreciate your help, but not this time.” He saw her body stiffen, and the mixture of anger and unhappiness in her face. “It’s going to be ugly,” he tried to explain. “People are frightened. Edward Denoon has stirred up all kinds of specters of violence, as if we were all in danger of being bombed, just because the police don’t know who these anarchists are.”

“They’ll find them!” Charlotte said a trifle more sharply than she had meant to. Jack’s remark had sounded like a criticism of Pitt. “You can’t expect to solve a murder in a couple of days.”

Jack looked tired, even though it was barely midday. “No,” he agreed wearily.

Emily was very pale. She looked at Jack almost as if she could no longer see Charlotte. “Then if you can’t win, don’t ruin your career trying,” she said with a gulp. “That’s pointless. Don’t speak for it, but don’t speak against it either. Leave it to Somerset Carlisle, and Charles Voisey. I won’t go to anyone for help, I promise!”

He said nothing.

“Jack!” She took a step towards him. “Jack?”

Charlotte felt a shiver of surprise, and alarm. For the first time she realized how truly afraid Emily was, and she wondered how long she herself had lived with fear that Pitt would be hurt, either emotionally or physically. She could see the urgency in Emily, because she was unaccustomed to such turmoil within. Emily was used to being safe. And she could read very clearly the anger in Jack, the knowledge that he was forced into something that frightened him, and yet from which he could see no escape. There was going to be pain, and a clash of wills in which she should not intrude.

Charlotte rose to her feet. “Perhaps we should leave this after all.” She smiled at Emily, who was too consumed in her confrontation with Jack to notice.

“Charlotte’s right,” Emily said firmly. “And perhaps it isn’t so bad anyway. The police have to stop crime. We all want that.”

“That isn’t the issue,” Jack replied. “It’s how they do it. And anarchy isn’t the only crime.”

“Of course it isn’t,” Emily agreed. “Everyone says that robbery, burglary, and arson are increasing as well. And violence in the streets, not to mention prostitution, forgery, and anything else you care to think of.”

“That isn’t what I meant.” He looked unhappy, as if the entire discussion were against his will. “I have to oppose the bill, Emily. It’s wrong. It’s…”

“No, you don’t!” she said hotly. “You can’t win anyway. Just leave it for someone else. Let Charles Voisey do it, if he wants to. Who cares what happens to him? Or Somerset Carlisle, if he’s stupid enough.” She took a step towards him, touching her hands lightly on the lapels of his jacket. The sunlight sparked fire in the diamonds on her ring. “Please, Jack! You are worth far more than ruining your career fighting a cause that’s lost anyway.” She drew in her breath to continue.

“That isn’t all, Emily,” he said hurriedly.

He took her hands gently and eased them away from him.

“What else is there?” Emily was angry. “The police have guns anyway. They must have, or they couldn’t have had a battle in Long Spoon Lane! Let them have more, if they need them. If they stop too many people in the street or search their homes, then Parliament can reverse the bill.”

“You can’t just turn the tide of feeling because you want to,” he replied.

Charlotte stepped closer to him. “Jack, you said that wasn’t all. What else is there?”

“It’s only suggested,” he said, but his face was heavy with the weight of it. “It might not happen, but I have to fight it as if it will.” He looked back at Emily. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “There’s no choice. They want to include the right for police to question domestic servants without the knowledge or permission of anyone else in the house.”

Emily was astounded. “Question them about what? Stolen goods? Guns? What, for heaven’s sake?”

“No one will know, will they?” The old, easy smile played about his mouth for a moment, then it was gone. “That’s exactly the point. Who was here, how much money was spent, where your coachman took you, who you spoke to, who you wrote letters to, who wrote to you? What did they say? Everything!”

Emily shook her head. “But why? Why could they possibly care?”

Charlotte saw the enormity of it. But she was more familiar with the work of police and she felt Pitt’s fear of corruption. “That would be a charter for blackmail,” she said softly, her stomach tightening. “If you ask the right questions, you could imply almost anything. We’d all live in terror of whispers, misunderstandings. It’s a kind of irony! In the past servants have lived in fear of losing their good character if a master or mistress should speak ill of them. Now I can see a glimpse of what that would be like. We would live in fear of them. A wrong word to the police, and we’d be the ones to lose our character. But surely such a bill couldn’t pass, could it?”

Jack turned to face her, his eyes shadowed. “I don’t know. Think of the power. All it needs is one dishonest policeman, even one who is indiscreet, one who wants a favor or thinks himself insulted. The possibilities are endless. It will begin as a law used only where anarchy or treason is suspected, then it will be used for robberies, suspected embezzlement, or conspiracy to commit fraud, or to blackmail the blackmailers. The police will have power to do almost anything, because everyone will be vulnerable.”

“But we don’t have anything to—” Emily began.

“Hide?” he asked, eyebrows raised. “Who says it will have to be about the truth? What about a disgruntled servant, one caught stealing, a lazy or impertinent one, one who drinks or gambles or keeps a mistress, or simply wants more money or more power?” His voice sharpened. “Or one who is simply frightened, or in love, or easily led? Or one who is related to someone in trouble, or—”

“All right!” Emily shouted. “I see! I see! It’s monstrous. No Parliament in its right mind will pass such a law.”

“Emily, it won’t be phrased that way!” he said exasperatedly. “It will sound like a very reasonable right for police to question servants in private. The master or mistress won’t know, in order to protect the servant in question from pressure to lie in order to keep his position.”

“Can’t they do that now?” Charlotte asked, puzzled.

“Of course they can question servants, or anyone else,” he responded. “But not secretly. This could be living eyes and ears in your house, at your dining table, your kitchen, in your bedroom! It’s the excuse to do it in the name of protecting everyone from anarchy that’s the difference. They don’t need to show any reason for it. Now you have to suspect someone of a particular crime, and question them openly. This would be secret, and without any reason shown. It would begin softly, and grow without our ever realizing it.”

Emily lowered her eyes. “I see. I suppose you have to fight.” There was resignation in her voice, acceptance.

“When did you hear of this?” Charlotte asked him.

“Just now. After Thomas left to…to go back to Special Branch, I suppose. I’ll tell him. He’ll have to know. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to burden you with it, either of you.” He turned to Emily, his face creased with regret, his eyes gentle. “You see why I have to do it, whatever it costs? If I’d never known about it I could back out, but I do know.”

“Who told you?” Emily asked.

“Voisey. But it’s true. I’ve seen the draft.”

“Voisey?” Emily said with fury.

He put both his hands on her shoulders, holding her tightly, but without hurting her, unless she fought him. “It’s true. I’ll take it to the top, to the prime minister if need be, before I react, and I’ll be the happiest man in Westminster if it proves to be a lie, but it won’t. The police have asked for it. They say Special Branch is incompetent to stop the anarchist violence and the rising crime.” He gave a little shiver. “In order to protect the people, they have to have the power to use if they need it. It’s a tiny thing, and they say they hardly ever will use it, but the point is that once they have the power we can’t stop them, and we know that the very nature of power is that it corrupts, and we have built in no way to stop it.”

Emily looked across at Charlotte, then back at Jack. “All right,” she conceded. “But I’m still frightened.”

“So am I,” he said softly, moving his hand from her shoulder to touch her cheek. “So am I.”

Charlotte gained Jack’s permission to tell Vespasia what he had said. After luncheon she declined Emily’s offer of the use of her carriage, and set out in the spring sunshine to walk the mile and a half or so to Vespasia’s house. It gave her the opportunity to calm her racing mind and compose her thoughts into something sensible. The wind was fresh and warm, rustling the leaves as the trees shivered, dappling the shade. Open carriages passed her with women showing off the latest fashions, extravagant hats, quite small in themselves, but decorated with feathers and huge satin bows and frills. She barely noticed any of it.

She arrived just as Vespasia was dressed in lilac gray silk, about to leave on her afternoon calls, but looking at Charlotte’s anxiety and disappointment, she canceled her arrangements.

“What has happened?” she asked bluntly as soon as they were seated. The quiet room overlooked the lawn and the roses; only the yellow climber that bloomed first was showing a touch of color in the flower bed.

“I have been talking to Emily about this bill to arm the police and give them greater powers,” Charlotte replied. “Jack returned home from Westminster and told us of a new dimension to it that is far worse than anything I knew of before, and that was bad enough.” She did not mince words with Vespasia. It would not only be unnecessary, it would be insulting. They knew and understood each other better than that. “It seems feeling is running high, and likely to get higher if there is any more crime reported beyond the usual.”

“We may rely upon that,” Vespasia said grimly. “But we too have resources. I imagine Jack will be firmly on our side. That young man is finding his feet rather well. And Somerset Carlisle we may rely upon also. He has always been a fighter against injustice of any sort, regardless of cost to himself.”

Charlotte saw a shadow cross Vespasia’s face. She waited. To ask its cause would be an intrusion.

“In times past I would have been certain that Lord Landsborough would have lent all his weight to oppose it,” Vespasia went on, her voice quiet and sad. “And his influence would have been sufficient to sway two or three government ministers. But since it was his only son who was killed, he may have different feelings now, or at the very least feel like abstaining from the fight.” She frowned.

“But you said there was something worse than you had thought. Has something new occurred?”

“Yes. It has not happened yet, but Jack has heard word of it, and he is deeply afraid.” Charlotte could hear the fear in her own voice, sharp and rough-edged. “They plan to add a provision for police to be able to question any household servants, without the knowledge or permission of the master or mistress.”

Vespasia froze. “Question them about what?”

“Anything. Since it is to be done in secret, no one will ever know.” Charlotte stared at her, watching the realization flood her face and the enormity of it as she understood what it could mean.