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sage ordering him to go to Wetron s office immediately.
Yes, sir? he asked, standing in front of Wetron s desk,
his mouth dry.
Wetron looked up. He was an ordinary-seeming man, hair
receding at the front. He was of average height and build,
with nondescript features, until one noticed the hard bril-
liance of his eyes and the unyielding line of his thin mouth.
Ah . . . Tellman. He leaned back a little in his chair. His
desk was impeccably neat. I wasn t aware that we had a
forgery problem in our area, at least not more than the odd
note here and there, usually badly made and wouldn t fool
most people.
Tellman felt stiff, his face hot. I don t think we have, sir.
And I d be happy to keep it like that.
Cannon Street informs me that you made an arrest on
their territory yesterday, but brought the man back here. Is
that so?
Yes, sir. I had reason to believe the note came from our
patch, so the crime was ours. That was in a way the truth. He
must be extremely careful of what he said to Wetron. He had
no idea what Stubbs might have told him already.
A five-pound note? Wetron lifted his eyebrows very
slightly. His tone suggested how little it mattered.
Tellman was stung. He could not afford to let it show.
A faint shadow of amusement crossed Wetron s cold face.
He said nothing.
Suddenly Tellman knew Wetron was waiting for him to
excuse himself, to get away as quickly as he could, as if he
were afraid, or guilty of something. Anger flared up inside
him, and the knowledge that he must be intensely careful.
Every word, every nuance, even the way he stood or the ex-
pression on his face, would be remembered. He would not
retreat.
156 Anne Perry
I thought right at the moment, sir, that forgery might be
particularly important, he said, straightening up a little to
stand squarely in front of Wetron s desk. Anarchists need
money. It must have taken a fair bit of dynamite to blow up
Sergeant Grover s house, and those on either side of it.
He was profoundly satisfied to see a moment s flicker of
uncertainty in Wetron s eyes, as if he had been caught on the
wrong foot. It was gone almost before he recognized it.
Yes it must, Wetron agreed. I didn t know you had such
an interest in the matter. But then I suppose it s natural
enough for you. You must still have some loyalty to Pitt. He
let the ambiguity of his meaning hang in the air. He is in
charge of the bombing, isn t he!
With a flood of relief, feeling like a runner recovering his
balance, Tellman remembered that that fact had been in the
newspapers. Yes, sir, that s what the papers say, he ac-
knowledged. But my concern is that Sergeant Grover is one
of us.
I didn t know you knew him!
I don t, sir. But if it was him this time, it could be me
next. He took a deep breath. Unless, of course, there is
something about Grover that I don t know.
Wetron s impassive face gave away nothing. Even his
hands on the desk were motionless. You think Sergeant
Grover was the intended victim of those anarchists?
I ve no idea, sir. But I wouldn t want to take any chances.
It might be coincidence that a policeman s house was dyna-
mited, sir, he said. But Mr. Grover knows a lot of people in
that area, and he must have offended a fair few of them be-
cause he s put them in prison, cut the rate of their business.
Maybe they printed up a bit of money for the anarchists, and
told them it would be a favor if they placed their dynamite in
a certain street? He was pleased with that. It made sense.
Wetron stared at him. Is that what Mr. Pitt thinks,
Sergeant?
I wouldn t know, sir. I imagine he s more concerned with
LONG SPOON LANE 157
catching them than whether they bombed Mr. Grover s house
on purpose.
He s not very quick, your Mr. Pitt, is he! Wetron said
with only the faintest derision in his tone. The anarchists
raise their own funds. Even I know that, just as a matter of
keeping my ear to the ground. Seems he can t find it out,
even by detection! Nor can you, for that matter.
Anger burned in Tellman s cheeks; he could feel the heat
of it and knew Wetron must be able to see it. His instinct was
to defend Pitt rather than himself. Perhaps that was what
Wetron was trying to provoke him into. But if he did not rise
to it, then Wetron would know he was being deliberately
guarded. What did he expect? Bluff? Double-bluff?
Wetron was waiting, watching him. He must react now;
any delay would betray his anxiety, and make him seem dis-
honest.
Yes, he agreed. Maybe being out of the police force
means he doesn t get to hear things. And it seems we didn t
tell him.
Oh, I don t know, Wetron was still smiling. I imagine
he has his contacts, his informers, don t you, Sergeant?
Tellman knew his voice was husky with tension, sounding
unnatural. He resisted the impulse to clear his throat. Well,
sir, if you know that about the anarchists, and he doesn t, it
would look like his informers aren t very good ones, he re-
sponded.
It would, wouldn t it? Wetron agreed. He must be ask-
ing the ones their superiors, and their fellows, don t trust.
There it was, the precise warning. Tellman could report it
to Pitt, and deliberately place himself in that category, or not
tell him and be unworthy of his trust.
Wetron was oozing satisfaction. Tellman could almost
smell it in the still air of the room.
Very foolish, that, Wetron continued. A policeman out
on the streets, who doesn t have the confidence of the men he
158 Anne Perry
relies on, is in a very dangerous position. There are a lot of
places in London where that could cost him his life.
Tellman thought of himself in the alley with Grover and
Stubbs. Did Wetron know about that from either of them?
Only Leggy s accidental arrival had saved him from being at
Stubbs s mercy, one way or the other.
Yes, sir, he said aloud. Should we inform Special
Branch about the anarchists way of getting money, as a
favor? It might be useful to have them in our debt.
You think they will repay us one day? Wetron said with
surprise.
Tellman felt foolish. Pitt would, but Victor Narraway was
another matter.
Wetron appeared to consider it. We might trade it, he
said thoughtfully. If they are still floundering about, in three
or four days, I ll see what they say.
Tellman could think of no answer, and he did not dare
argue.
Wetron leaned back. Are they investigating Magnus
Landsborough s family? he asked as if it were only mildly
interesting.
Tellman was startled. I have no idea, sir.
Wetron smiled again. That s where they should look. His
cousin, Piers Denoon, is the obvious place. Perhaps Pitt will
work that out, eventually. He looked at Tellman, his eyes
bright and hard, as if they could see right into his mind.
Tellman knew exactly what he was doing, just as Wetron
did, and Tellman s dilemma amused him. Would Tellman re-
peat it to Pitt, and betray himself, or say nothing, and betray
Pitt? It would place Pitt in an even greater shadow of failure
than the Special Branch already was, with half London cry-
ing out that they had only two of the anarchists, and could
not even name the rest, let alone capture them.
Yes, sir, Tellman said quietly. He hardly dared trust his
voice. Wetron had given one thing away irrevocably. If Tell-
man had ever imagined Wetron was a servant of the people,
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