Hawkwood nodded. That would be a more accurate description, yes.
Well, you clearly made a favourable impression, whichever way it was. He provided the references that enabled you to join Bow Street, no? Brooke threw Hawkwood another questioning stare.
Captain Grant had friends in high places, Hawkwood said.
Had? The reply came sharply.
He was captured, Hawkwood said heavily. Six months ago. The French finally managed to track him down and Bonaparte ordered him hanged as a spy. Another thing that Corsican bastard has to answer for. Now, forgive me, sir, but would you mind telling me what Im doing here?
Brooke leant back in his chair, his face severe. He remained silent, as if pondering his decision. Finally, he gave a curt nod. Very well. What do you know of this department?
According to Magistrate Read, youre part of the Home Office.
Anything else?
Yes, Hawkwood said. You hunt subversives.
Brooke looked slightly taken aback by Hawkwoods forthright response. Then he frowned. Subversives? I do declare thats a word Ive not come across before. Though I must say its a good one, and remarkably apposite. From the French, possibly? He regarded Hawkwood with renewed respect. Is that all?
Hawkwood hesitated.
When hed seen the brass plaque to the side of the front door, the name Alien Office had triggered a faint memory that went deeper than his confessed store of knowledge. He wasnt sure what it was a memory of, exactly, other than the vague remembrance of whispered conversations and rumours voiced in dark corridors about even darker deeds. It was probably best to claim ignorance. That way, at least, any information he did receive would be straight from the horses mouth.
Perhaps you ought to tell me, sir.
From the look in Brookes eye it was clear the superintendent suspected that Hawkwood was being deliberately obtuse.
The moment passed. Brooke nodded. As you wish. Well, Magistrate Read was quite correct. We do indeed fall under the aegis of the Home Office, though we operate independently from it.
And what do you operate on, exactly?
Oh, all manner of things, Brooke replied, showing his teeth. The effect was not so much jocular as disarmingly menacing. You know it was your Chinese general who said that a hundred ounces of silver spent on intelligence can save a thousand spent on war. You might say its my duty to try and prove him right.
And how do you do that?
By spreading confusion among our enemies.
Brooke pushed himself away from his desk and stood up. He shot his cuffs and began to pace the room, his hands clasped behind his back.
He looked over his shoulder. As a police officer you are, no doubt, familiar with the workings of the Alien Act?
Hawkwood nodded.
The act had been inaugurated in 93, long before his arrival at Bow Street. It required all foreigners to register with the customs officials at the port where they landed or at a police office. Despite the latter stipulation, to Hawkwoods knowledge there had been no direct impact from the legislation on his own duties as a Runner. Up until now, that was.
Im relieved to hear it, Brooke said. Eyes front, he continued to pace. However, what you may not know is that the Act was actually prepared in response to advice from the émigrés themselves. That was how this office came into being. The Prime Minister was becoming increasingly concerned by the number of refugees arriving on our shores, having fled the Terror. There was no knowing who we were letting through, no guarantee that some of them werent agents whod smuggled themselves in to spread dissent among the populace.
The superintendent performed an about turn. The last thing this country needed was for the seeds of republicanism to start germinating on this side of the Channel. God forbid there should be a mob laying siege to the Tower! So, subversives, revolutionaries, agitators, spies call them what you will it was and is the Offices task to root out the bad apples. And Im happy to report that we have enjoyed considerable success in that regard.
Brooke stopped pacing. He was standing before a map of Europe. He stared up at it, his eyes narrowing. Then came the war. The words were spoken softly, almost wistfully. It was as though Brooke was thinking aloud.
Collecting himself, he continued, It was my predecessor, Wickham, who took the initiative. He decided it was time to give the French a taste of their own medicine. He proposed that we set up a web of correspondents throughout Europe, using our embassy in Berne as the collecting house for information.
Brooke reached out and ran the flat of his hand over the maps surface. The intention was not only to gather intelligence about the revolutionaries on their own soil but also to find ways of discrediting them. The best way to do that, he believed, was to initiate contact with royalist sympathizers whod infiltrated republican organizations in the hope of disabling the régime and restoring the Bourbon monarchy. We were already in league with the royalist government in exile over here, so it made sense for us to continue taking advantage of their expertise. It also helped that Wickham had been appointed our ambassador in Switzerland. The superintendent tapped the map with the end of his forefinger.
Dangerous work, Hawkwood said, still wondering where all this was leading.
Brooke nodded. Youre not wrong there. Needless to say, the damned Frogs kept putting pressure on the Swiss, with that worm Fouché pulling the strings. In the end, Wickham was forced to resign his post. He did uncommonly well though; managed to last right through until Amiens. He came home when the peace was signed.
Brooke turned. Nobody believed for a moment that was the end of it, of course. But we went through the motions. Our foreign correspondents were told to stand down, laid to rest if you like, and the office reverted to its domestic role. Wickhams tenure ended and I received my appointment. A thin smile split the aristocratic features. I dare say some would regard it as the poisoned chalice
Brooke returned his attention to the map on the wall. As I was saying: we never for a moment thought it was all over. We knew as soon as Bonaparte appointed himself Consul for life hed be looking for ways of expanding his damned empire. We heard from our royalist friends that he was already making plans, building up his forces, even as we were putting pen to the treaty. It didnt take a genius to know that wed be in his sights again. Only one thing for it; we had to rouse our correspondents from their slumbers and put them back into service. While our little corporal plotted to increase his military might, we chose to pursue a more surreptitious approach. You recall what I said about your Chinese general and the hundred ounces of silver?
Guile not guns?
You have it. Brooke looked pleased that Hawkwood had remembered. By the time war was re-declared, our correspondents were back in place and in stronger positions than before. Theyve been active ever since, burrowing their way into the heart of the Empire, like moles in a garden; keeping us abreast of events and Bonapartes intentions.
Brookes face grew more serious. Which brings us to the reason youre here.
Here comes the rub, Hawkwood thought.
A situation has arisen, Brooke said slowly. Weve received a communication from one of our correspondents which we feel merits serious and immediate attention. It concerns a proposal Ill call it no more than that which, if acted upon, could well pave the way towards a cessation of hostilities. Magistrate Read and I have held various discussions on how we should proceed and your name was put forward. You have how shall I say? a number of talents that we believe could be relevant to the task.
Talents? Hawkwood repeated cautiously. Hed no intention of querying why Brooke should have been consulting with James Read in the first place. Hawkwood was well aware that the Chief Magistrates responsibilities extended far beyond the confines of a small, dark-panelled office at 4 Bow Street. Hed long since ceased to be surprised at the influence James Read wielded within the serried ranks of the high and mighty.
Though that didnt prevent another warning bell chiming inside his ear. A similar blandishment had been voiced prior to his last assignment, and he hadnt long recovered from that bloody enterprise. James Reads enquiry into his well-being suddenly started to make sense.
Magistrate Read was kind enough to furnish me with some details of your previous undertakings, in particular the infiltration of the French community on the prison ship Rapacious. Most impressive. You posed as an American officer attached to a French infantry regiment.
The job which James Read had termed the Morgan Affair. Hawkwood had been sent to investigate the fate of two Royal Navy officers whod disappeared while trying to infiltrate a British smuggling ring specializing in helping French prisoners of war get back to France. Though there had been a satisfactory conclusion to the assignment, a not inconsiderate amount of blood had been spilt along the way.
Hawkwood said nothing.
Brooke pursed his lips. Could you not have passed yourself off as a French officer?
Hawkwoods response was immediate. No.
Brookes head came up quickly, indicating it wasnt the answer hed been seeking. Why not?
Because Idve had to pretend I couldnt speak English and that would have been impractical.
How so? I dont follow.
The alternative would have meant trying to speak English with a French accent, and that would have been stupid and damned near impossible. Theyd have been on to me the moment I opened my mouth. It made more sense to pass myself off as an American who could speak French.
Ah, yes, indeed. I see. Fair point. There was a pause, then Brooke said, What if there was no requirement to speak English? Could you pass yourself off as a French officer, then, do you think?
You mean to other Frenchmen?
Yes.
Why? Hawkwood asked, warily.
Just humour me, Brooke said. Yes or no? Caught in the light from the windows, the superintendents face was un naturally still. His raptor eyes were bright. Tiny dust motes tumbled and spiralled above his head.
The small distinct voice buried deep inside Hawkwoods brain came to life again and hissed urgently, Say no, you damned fool! Say no!
Probably, Hawkwood said.
As soon as the word was out of his mouth, he felt the atmosphere in the room change. A nerve trembled along the superintendents jaw. The reflex was followed by what might have been a sigh. Though, like the last words he thought he had heard pass from James Reads mouth, Hawkwood could well have been mistaken.
I assume youre about to tell me why thats important, Hawkwood said.
Brooke hesitated and then said, We require someone to liaise with our correspondent to verify the feasibility of the proposal and, if it is at all viable, to assist in its implementation.
And that would be me? Hawkwood said.
Thats why youre here.
You dont have your own men? Hawkwood asked.
Oh, indeed I do, and very capable they are, too, but none of them have quite the qualifications that were looking for.
Which would be?
Let us say there are certain parameters attached to the enterprise which would require the involvement of someone with a military background. You clearly have proven expertise in that field. You are also fluent in French and you are no stranger to taking on an assumed identity. In short, you are uniquely qualified for this particular . . . assignment.
You want me to go to France and pass myself off as a French officer? Hawkwood said.
As a French citizen, certainly. As to the exact identity you would have to adopt, that has yet to be determined. It would depend on the prevailing circumstances. Im afraid I cannot be more precise than that. Would you be willing to undertake such a task?
Youre giving me the option? Hawkwood asked, surprised.
Your attachment to this office is at my request but at Magistrate Reads discretion. On that basis, he advised me that, given what befell you the last time you placed yourself in jeopardy, it would be unconscionable of me not to draw attention to the hazards and allow you the opportunity to make up your own mind as to whether you accept the undertaking, or return to your law-enforcement duties. In short, Officer Hawkwood; it will be your decision.
Based on what? Hawkwood said.
Im sorry?
Youve hardly told me anything, Hawkwood pointed out. Youve given me no specifics.
Brooke shook his head. Regrettably, at this juncture, nor can I. Theres the grave and overwhelming matter of secrecy. The essence of the assignment is such that it would not be wise to furnish you with all the details in case youre apprehended by the French authorities. Were they to suspect you to be in league with this department, they would not be averse to employing coercion in order to extract information from you. Theres always the danger that, no matter how resistant to persuasion you believe yourself to be, you would still reveal our intentions. We cannot afford to take that risk.
Youll be provided with identity papers and travel document ation and a point of rendezvous from where youll be taken to meet with our correspondent, who will then familiarize you with the salient details of our . . . deception. All I can tell you at this stage is that this could be of paramount importance with regards to the course of the war. If the plan is successful, there is no question that a great number of lives will be saved. Naturally, there is a proviso.
There is? Hawkwood said. Whod have thought it?
Brooke ignored the remark. If you were to be apprehended, this department would deny all knowledge of your existence. You would be on your own and left to your own resources. You comprehend me?
Id say youve made that part of it perfectly clear, Hawkwood said. How long do I have?
How long? Brooke echoed, puzzled. Im sorry, I dont follow.
To decide.
Ah, perhaps I didnt make that clear, either. Forgive me. Id be obliged if you could let me know your decision before you leave this room.
There was an uncomfortable silence before Hawkwood said, That long? And there I was thinking youd want to know this very second.
Hawkwood turned and looked at the map.