Matthew could hardly imagine the emotion there must have been: Sebastian's horror, recoiling from the savagery of it, the irredeemable commitment to a single act that was the violation of all he professed to believe. And the Peacemaker would have argued the greater good, the self-sacrifice to save humanity, the urgency to prevent the chaos of war no time to delay, prevaricate. He might even have called him a coward, a dreamer with no passion or courage.
It had to have been face to face. If Thyer were the Peacemaker, he had seen him that afternoon, or early evening. It was grotesque to sit here in the drawing room making polite conversation, playing games around each other, as if the sacrifice were chess pieces, not lives. There was a dreamlike insanity, the madder because it was real.
Thyer hung up the phone. He was standing near the instrument where it hung on the wall. Outside, the morning sunlight was shining on the roses. In the far distance someone laughed.
"I don't suppose you saw him?" Matthew said aloud, his voice sounding unnatural in his ears. "Sebastian, I mean."
"No. I just spoke to him on the telephone," Thyer answered. "There was no need to say anything else." A very slight shadow touched his face. "Whatever prompted him to commit such a crime the following day, I believe it must have happened after that, but I have no idea what it was. I think you may have to resign yourself to the fact that you may never discover. I truly am sorry."
Was he a supreme actor? Or only what he seemed a quiet, scholarly man, now watching half his students sent to the battlefields of Europe to waste their dreams and their learning in blood?
"What time was it you spoke to him?" Matthew asked.
"Almost quarter-past three, I think," Thyer answered. "But I was with Dr. Etheridge from the philosophy department at the time. I dare say he would remember, if you think it matters?"
"Thank you," Matthew said with a strange mixture of honesty and confusion. He took his leave. It would seem to be so easy to check all Thyer had told him, and yet if it were true, what had he learned? Who had spoken to Sebastian where? How had he been contacted and given his orders to commit the crime that had destroyed his victims, and also himself?
He left the Master's Lodgings and, after considerable enquiry, found Dr. Etheridge, who confirmed exactly what Thyer had said. Without difficulty Matthew also confirmed Thyer's whereabouts for the rest of the evening until after midnight. He had gone from dinner in Hall to a long conversation in the Senior Common Room and finally back to his lodgings. He had never been alone.
Did that prove anything? According to Mary Allard, Sebastian had gone out, and been troubled when he returned. To see whom? All Matthew knew now was that it had not been Aidan Thyer.
He drove back to London, knowing only that the Master of St. John's was in a position of extraordinary power to do exactly what the Peacemaker planned, and that Sebastian had been seeing a third woman, perhaps a fourth, in a deceit that startled him. The mystery thrown up by this half-knowledge was like a fog, choking, blinding, and impossible to grip.
Chapter Three
General Owen Cullingford stood in the centre of the room he had turned into his Corps Headquarters in the small chateau a couple of miles from Poperinge, to the west of Ypres. The military situation was desperate. He was losing an average of twenty men every day, killed or wounded. In places there was only one man to each stretch of the trench, and they were worked to exhaustion simply to keep sentry duty and give the alarm if there were a German attack. In the worst raids whole platoons of fifty men were wiped out in one night, leaving vast gaps in manning the line.
Ammunition was so short it had to be rationed. Every shot had to find a target; sometimes there was no second chance. Ironically, if a brigade did well there was the difficulty of getting sufficient food up over the crowded and
It had to have been face to face. If Thyer were the Peacemaker, he had seen him that afternoon, or early evening. It was grotesque to sit here in the drawing room making polite conversation, playing games around each other, as if the sacrifice were chess pieces, not lives. There was a dreamlike insanity, the madder because it was real.
Thyer hung up the phone. He was standing near the instrument where it hung on the wall. Outside, the morning sunlight was shining on the roses. In the far distance someone laughed.
"I don't suppose you saw him?" Matthew said aloud, his voice sounding unnatural in his ears. "Sebastian, I mean."
"No. I just spoke to him on the telephone," Thyer answered. "There was no need to say anything else." A very slight shadow touched his face. "Whatever prompted him to commit such a crime the following day, I believe it must have happened after that, but I have no idea what it was. I think you may have to resign yourself to the fact that you may never discover. I truly am sorry."
Was he a supreme actor? Or only what he seemed a quiet, scholarly man, now watching half his students sent to the battlefields of Europe to waste their dreams and their learning in blood?
"What time was it you spoke to him?" Matthew asked.
"Almost quarter-past three, I think," Thyer answered. "But I was with Dr. Etheridge from the philosophy department at the time. I dare say he would remember, if you think it matters?"
"Thank you," Matthew said with a strange mixture of honesty and confusion. He took his leave. It would seem to be so easy to check all Thyer had told him, and yet if it were true, what had he learned? Who had spoken to Sebastian where? How had he been contacted and given his orders to commit the crime that had destroyed his victims, and also himself?
He left the Master's Lodgings and, after considerable enquiry, found Dr. Etheridge, who confirmed exactly what Thyer had said. Without difficulty Matthew also confirmed Thyer's whereabouts for the rest of the evening until after midnight. He had gone from dinner in Hall to a long conversation in the Senior Common Room and finally back to his lodgings. He had never been alone.
Did that prove anything? According to Mary Allard, Sebastian had gone out, and been troubled when he returned. To see whom? All Matthew knew now was that it had not been Aidan Thyer.
He drove back to London, knowing only that the Master of St. John's was in a position of extraordinary power to do exactly what the Peacemaker planned, and that Sebastian had been seeing a third woman, perhaps a fourth, in a deceit that startled him. The mystery thrown up by this half-knowledge was like a fog, choking, blinding, and impossible to grip.
Chapter Three
General Owen Cullingford stood in the centre of the room he had turned into his Corps Headquarters in the small chateau a couple of miles from Poperinge, to the west of Ypres. The military situation was desperate. He was losing an average of twenty men every day, killed or wounded. In places there was only one man to each stretch of the trench, and they were worked to exhaustion simply to keep sentry duty and give the alarm if there were a German attack. In the worst raids whole platoons of fifty men were wiped out in one night, leaving vast gaps in manning the line.
Ammunition was so short it had to be rationed. Every shot had to find a target; sometimes there was no second chance. Ironically, if a brigade did well there was the difficulty of getting sufficient food up over the crowded and
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