28
‘TRY NOT TO FORGET that you saved my life.’
‘I’ve spent the last twenty-six years trying to forget,’ Old Jack reminded him.
‘But you were also responsible for saving the lives of twenty-four of your fellow West Countrymen. You remain a hero in this city and you seem to be totally unaware of the fact. So I’m bound to ask, Jack, how much longer you intend to go on torturing yourself ?’
‘Until I can no longer see the eleven men I killed as clearly as I can see you now.’
‘But you were doing no more than your duty,’ protested Sir Walter.
‘That’s how I saw it at the time,’ admitted Jack.
‘So what changed?’
‘If I could answer that question,’ replied Jack, ‘we wouldn’t be having this conversation.’
‘But you’re still capable of doing so much for your fellow men. Take that young friend of yours, for example. You tell me he keeps playing truant, but if he was to discover that you are Captain Jack Tarrant of the Royal Gloucestershire Regiment, winner of the Victoria Cross, don’t you think he might listen to you with even more respect?’
‘He might also run away again,’ replied Jack. ‘In any case, I have other plans for young Harry Clifton.’
‘Clifton, Clifton . . .’ said Sir Walter. ‘Why is that name familiar?’
‘Harry’s father was trapped in the double bottom of the Maple Leaf, and no one came to his—’
‘That’s not what I heard,’ said Sir Walter, his tone changing. ‘I was told that Clifton left his wife because she was, not to put too fine a point on it, a loose woman.’
‘Then you were misled,’ said Jack, ‘because I can tell you that Mrs Clifton is a delightful and intelligent woman, and any man who was lucky enough to be married to her would never want to leave her.’
Sir Walter looked genuinely shocked, and it was some time before he spoke again. ‘Surely you don’t believe that cock and bull story about Clifton being trapped in the double bottom?’ he asked quietly.
‘I’m afraid I do, Walter. You see, I witnessed the whole episode.’
‘Then why didn’t you say something about it at the time?’
‘I did. When I was interviewed by Detective Inspector Blakemore the following day, I told him everything I’d seen, and at his request I made a written statement.’
‘Then why wasn’t your statement produced in evidence at Tancock’s trial?’ asked Sir Walter.
‘Because I never saw Blakemore again. And when I turned up at the police station, I was told he was no longer in charge of the case and his replacement refused to see me.’
‘I had Blakemore taken off the case,’ said Sir Walter. ‘The damn man was as good as accusing Hugo of giving the money to Tancock, so there wouldn’t be an investigation into the Clifton affair.’ Old Jack remained silent. ‘Let’s not talk of this any more,’ said Sir Walter. ‘I know my son is far from perfect, but I refuse to believe—’
‘Or perhaps you don’t want to believe,’ said Old Jack.
‘Jack, whose side are you on?’
‘On the side of justice. As you used to be when we first met.’
‘And I still am,’ said Sir Walter. But he fell silent for some time before adding, ‘I want you to make me a promise, Jack. If you ever find out anything about Hugo that you believe would harm the family’s reputation, you won’t hesitate to tell me.’
‘You have my word on it.’
‘And you have my word, old friend, that I would not hesitate to hand Hugo over to the police if I thought for one moment that he had broken the law.’
‘Let’s hope nothing else arises that would make that necessary,’ said Old Jack.
‘I agree, old friend. Let’s talk of more palatable things. Is there anything you are in need of at the moment? I could still. . .’
‘Do you have any old clothes that are surplus to requirements?’
Sir Walter raised an eyebrow. ‘Dare I ask?’
‘No, you daren’t,’ said Old Jack. ‘But I have to visit a particular gentleman, and I’ll need to be appropriately dressed.’