Moriarty

‘I am not saying that I doubt your word even though I will admit that your methods, your intrusion here, leave much to be desired. I can also see for myself the injuries sustained by you and by your associate, Mr Chase. No. What is of the essence here is the principal of extraterritoriality. An envoy is the representative of those who sent him and almost a century ago, Thomas McKean, the Chief Justice of Pennsylvania, set down that the person of the public minister serving abroad is both sacred and inviolable and that to suggest otherwise would be a direct attack on the sanctity of the nation state. I must add that this protection extends to all who serve under the envoy. How could it be otherwise? To deny his servants the same privilege of diplomatic immunity would cause all manner of difficulties and would eventually undermine the independence of the envoy himself.’

‘Forgive me, sir. But surely the envoy has the right to waive that immunity if he deems it appropriate?’

‘That has never been the practice of the United States. Our view is that the legation remains outside the civil law of the country in which it finds itself. It is, you might say, an island. I am afraid that these premises are protected from criminal process. Mr De Vriess, like Mr Isham and myself, can refuse to testify in both civil and criminal proceedings. Indeed, even were he to choose otherwise, he would still require authorisation from the envoy himself.’

‘You are saying, then, that we cannot prosecute him?’

‘That is exactly what I am saying.’

‘But you would surely agree that natural law, basic humanity, demands that all crimes must be punished.’

‘You have given us no evidence,’ Isham cut in. ‘Mr Chase has been injured. You have been forced to endure the temporary loss of your daughter. But nothing that you say fits the character of Mr De Vriess as we know him.’

‘And what if I am telling the truth? What if I tell you that, unbeknownst to you, Coleman De Vriess has taken advantage of the system that you describe? Will you gentlemen sit here and protect a man who has come to London only to inflict terror on its population?’

‘It is not we who protect him!’

‘But still he is protected. His associate, Edgar Mortlake, was sipping cocktails within these very walls. With my own eyes I saw Mortlake cut the throat of a man who had crossed him. It was he who took my girl, and his brother, Leland, the cold-blooded partner in his schemes, was responsible for the murder of the Pinkerton agent, Jonathan Pilgrim. Would you stand up for them if they were still alive? When my friend Chase came to England, he brought with him files that were filled with the vile activities of this gang, carried out all over America. I have seen them. I can show them to you. Murders, thefts, blackmail, extortion … Clarence Devereux was the chief architect of all this misery, the same Clarence Devereux who only last night threatened to torture us to death, like cattle. I know that you are honourable men; I refuse to believe that you will stand in the way of due process and continue to live with this viper among you.’

‘The evidence!’ Isham insisted. ‘It is all very well for you to speak of process. I myself have studied the law. Probatio vincit praesumptionem. There! What do you say to that?’

‘You speak in Latin, sir. I speak of a daughter stolen from my arms.’

‘If we cannot prosecute him, can we at least not question him?’ I asked. ‘Surely we have the right to interview him, inside Scotland Yard and with any counsel that you wish to provide. We will prove to you the truth of our allegations and then, if we cannot prosecute him here, at least we can see him sent home to face justice in America. Inspector Jones is right. He should be anathema to you. Do you really doubt us? You see the injuries we have both suffered. From where do you think they came?’

Charles Isham still looked doubtful but Henry White glanced at Lincoln who came to a decision. ‘Where is Mr De Vriess?’ he asked.

‘He is waiting in the next room.’

‘Then perhaps you might ask him to step in.’

It was progress of sorts. Isham, the secretary, stood up and went to a pair of adjoining doors and opened them — and a second later, after a brief, murmured exchange, Clarence Devereux stepped into the room. I cannot quite express the strange thrill that I felt to see him, to know that he could do me no further harm. Certainly, he was meek enough, affecting that same self-deprecation that he had displayed when we first set eyes on him, barely noticing him, that night at the legation. He pretended to be startled to be in such grand company, blinking nervously in front of the envoy and his advisors. Nor did he seem to recognise Jones and myself, looking at us as if we were complete strangers. He was wearing the same coloured silk waistcoat that he had worn the night before but in every other respect he could have been a quite different man.

‘Minister?’ he queried, as Isham closed the door.