The Body at the Tower - By Y. S. Lee Page 0,17
you to luncheon. At my club, you know. They do a rather decent roast.”
James’s face froze. Kind as the offer was, he couldn’t imagine anything he’d like less. “Er – well, you must be absurdly busy. A site like this…”
Another forced laugh. “That’s precisely what I want to talk to you about, my dear young man. A site like this, indeed!”
If the site was such a challenge, how could the man think of taking a protracted luncheon? Such negligence was unworthy of Harkness – or, at least, of the man his father had esteemed. Today’s visit had definitely been a mistake. “Perhaps another day,” he parried. “Or come to dinner sometime. George’d be delighted to see you.”
Harkness leapt towards the doorway, blocking his exit. “Actually…”
Forced to a halt, James stared at him blankly.
“I’d like to suggest – well, not to put too fine a point on it – I’ve a proposition for you.”
“A proposition.”
Another of those dreadful chortles. “Sit down, sit down, my dear young man. No need to look so suspicious!”
James sat with great reluctance. “What on earth are you talking about?”
Harkness made a few false starts but eventually managed to say, “Well, then. You know about the dreadful accident that occurred last week…”
James nodded. There had been a sentence about it in The Times. “A bricklayer fell from the tower, after hours. No witnesses.”
Harkness flinched. “Er – yes. Tragic accident. The man was young, had a family… It’s been ghastly.” He mopped his forehead with a large, crumpled handkerchief. “Absolutely ghastly.”
James waited a few moments, but Harkness didn’t go on. “Is there to be a review or an inquiry of some sort?” he guessed.
Harkness grimaced. “You were always a bright young chap. The First Commissioner of Works wants an independent engineer’s report as to the safety conditions on site. He gave me to understand that no blame attaches to me,” he added hastily, “but the Committee of Works wants the matter to be absolutely clear. If the man was there after hours, and the equipment was all safe… You see what I mean,” he finished.
James did see. If they could prove that the man had died of his own carelessness, it cleared Harkness and the Committee of responsibility. That was the critical point, and it should have been obvious even to a child. Yet he could also understand Harkness’s agony, and why he should dance around the subject. A man was dead; while one wanted desperately not to be at fault, one could hardly go about proving one’s own innocence. The only useful report was that of a neutral and qualified inspector. “Whom have they appointed?”
Harkness tittered nervously. “My dear fellow, they’ve left the appointment in my hands!”
“But that’s a conflict of interest! How could such a report ever be deemed impartial?” James realized he’d jumped up and was pacing the length of the tiny office. He was slightly out of breath, which annoyed him greatly.
Harkness looked pained and that little muscle below his eye began jumping so vigorously he was forced to still it with his hand. “I was an idealist at your age, too.”
And now what are you? James repressed the sneer: too cheap, too obvious. Harkness clearly considered himself a realist – although, from the look of him, this exerted an unhealthy strain on his conscience.
After a minute, Harkness spoke again, choosing his words slowly. “The Commissioner has made it clear that from his perspective, and that of the Committee of Works, I am not to blame for this man’s unfortunate death. But the Commissioner wishes to confirm that the death was, in fact, an accident. A most tragic accident, but an accident none the less.” As he spoke, Harkness’s voice gained conviction. “He is also under a great deal of pressure to begin an inquiry immediately. There simply isn’t time to appoint an engineer through the Committee – so many meetings, so much discussion, you understand. And time is pressing on.”
“So the Commissioner has left things in your hands for the sake of efficiency?” And a sure outcome.
“I won’t pretend that it’s not a deeply awkward task. It certainly goes against the grain.”
James nodded. He could agree with that statement, at least.
“You are too intelligent not to see what I’m asking, James, so I’ll be blunt: are you willing to conduct this review?”
His immediate instinct was to refuse. It was a curious task, and a distasteful one, too. Even setting aside the question of impartiality, his findings would damage someone wherever he found fault.