A Fearsome Doubt Read Online Free PDF Page A

the small movements of the body or shifts in expression that supported or contradicted what he was told. Only a very few people lied well.
    And either Nell Shaw was among them—or she believed implicitly in what she was saying.
    Hamish said, “Aye. If you canna’ satisfy her, she’ll go o’wer your head.”
    And there were sound reasons why that must not happen. Rutledge was not the only officer who would be brought down if the Shaw case was shown to be flawed. Even if her accusations bore only a semblance of truth, the Yard was not immune from politics or personal vendettas.
    “I’m not sending you away,” he told her. “I’m searching for a practical way of getting around the rules I have to follow. I’ll give you a chit for the locket—”
    “No, never!” she declared, shoving it back in her purse and clutching that to her bosom with both arms. “It’s all I’ve got.”
    He put down the pen. “Then you must let me have a few days to look again at the file, and then to decide how best to go about this problem. I don’t have the authority to open this case myself. And it won’t do you much good to make enemies—for you will if you begin to annoy my own superiors, or Mr. Cutter. It’s to your advantage and mine to proceed with caution. Have you spoken to the barrister who defended your husband?”
    “I’ve got no money. He won’t give me the time of day.”
    “I make no promises, mind you. But I give you my word that I’ll do my best. If I can satisfy myself that there’s just cause to reopen the case, I’ll tell you so and give you the name of someone at the Home Office who will listen to you.”
    “And if you can’t?” she asked suspiciously.
    “Then you’re free to speak to anyone else here at the Yard.”
    “That’s fair. I never asked more.” There was a gleam of gratification in her dark eyes. “I’ve waited this long. A few more days won’t matter, will they?”

5
    A FTER R UTLEDGE HAD SEEN M RS. S HAW INTO A CAB, HE SAT in his chair and stared out the window at the bare branches of trees that stood out stark and almost pleading against the colorless sky.
    He couldn’t have been wrong about Ben Shaw. . . .
    And yet he had been badly shaken by that locket, and Mrs. Shaw’s ferocious defense of her husband’s innocence had rung with conviction. If he had been so certain of the man’s guilt before, how had that altered so easily?
    Hamish said, “Your wits are scattered, man, ye’re no’ thinking clearly!”
    What if he had been wrong—
    Hamish said, “It isna’ the end of the world—”
    Rutledge retorted angrily, “It was a man’s life. You weren’t there—”
    Hamish agreed readily. “I was safe in Scotland then, and alive. . . .” After a moment he added, “She willna’ be put off.”
    Nor was he the sort of man who could quietly bury truth under a layer of lies. Rutledge faced himself now, and with that a possibility that appalled him. Like it or not, he must get to the bottom of this question of Ben Shaw’s guilt.
    Like it or not, he must find the answer, for his own soul’s comfort.
    Hamish growled, “It isna’ a matter of comfort, it’s a sair question for the conscience.” His Covenanter heritage had always projected his world in severe black and white. It was what had brought him to defy the Army and face execution rather than compromise. His strength—and his destruction.
    Ignoring the voice in his head, Rutledge considered the next step. How did one go about dredging up the past, without destroying what had been built upon it?
    This was not the first time he’d dealt with families whose anger was as destructive as it was futile, when not even a jury’s verdict could persuade them of a loved one’s guilt. But few of these families had ever brought forward what was in their eyes fresh proof of innocence.
    And on that slim balance, he was forced to confront his actions of more than six years ago.
    Hamish said, “I saw a magician once. When the