Closed Circle (44 page)

"Well, Vita's reaction to the letter supported my theory. I was convinced Fabian was alive. And that he had the money. But where was he? Vita definitely knew. Diana probably did too. And, sooner or later, I was sure they'd let the information slip. If I stuck to them long enough, they'd be bound to give him away. Patience was the key as Faraday agreed. My negotiations with Gregory were a put-up job, designed to explain the lifting of the dead-line without alerting you to the change of strategy. We just couldn't be certain where your loyalties lay by then, you see. Besides, the further you were off the scent, the better it suited me. I didn't want you getting any of the credit. So, naturally, I encouraged Faraday to think your allegiances had become questionable.

"And so they had, hadn't they? But, as for the scent, well, it seems you had a better nose for that than me all along. When I got back to Amber Court the night you whisked Diana away, I found Vita too worried and distraught even to lie plausibly about where you'd gone. Fearing you'd stolen a march on me, I applied some .. . pressure ... to dear Vita. It didn't take much to loosen her tongue. In the end, she was glad of a shoulder to cry on. She realized the game was up when I made it clear I knew Fabian was still alive. After that, she admitted everything. And everything included the Concentric Alliance.

"It shook me to the core, I won't deny. A world war, engineered by my brother-in-law and the people who'd hired me to find his money. At first, I couldn't believe it. Then it began to make sense. Not just because of what Maudie had said aboard the Lusitania. There was the symbolism as well. The concentric circles Faraday had drawn. And the name of Vasaritch's yacht. Quadratrice. A geometrical term meaning a circle used to square other circles." He chuckled. "And to think the old man used to say the money spent on my education could just as usefully have been thrown into the Ohio river!" His chuckle became a guffaw.

"Don't look so sombre, Guy. Maybe you've no choice with a gag on, but I have good news for you, believe me. I'm saving you from yourself. You and Diana. When Vita told me what the two of you were planning, I knew you'd never get away with it. Not just because of Faraday and his masters, but because this is a story the world doesn't want to hear. The war was Germany's fault. The politicians have been telling us that for thirteen years, so it's got to be true. Do you seriously think they'd let you put the record straight? Do you seriously imagine you'd ever be allowed to? This was a fool's crusade from the start, Guy. You were never going to get to Jerusalem.

"As for Diana.. . Well, a daughter's love runs deeper than a brother's, I guess. Deep enough to blind her to everything except the desire for revenge. She didn't betray you, Guy. Not in Dublin,

anyhow. Faraday named her as his source to deflect attention from me. And to goad Fabian, I suppose. That would have pleased him more than a little. Vita sent Fabian the letter at my direction. It was the only way I could think of to make him insist on meeting you alone, the only way to prevent Diana getting hurt or taking matters into her own hands. You were expendable, but Diana ... She's my niece, for God's sake. I owe it to Maudie to see she comes to no harm. That's what I meant about my motives. Sentiment featured on the list. Low down, I admit. But it featured."

He scrambled to the end of the bed and sat leaning against the rail, close enough to lay a consoling hand on my shoulder. I longed to throw it off, to leap from the chair and stuff his expensive cigar along with his expansive words down his throat. But all I could do was squirm.

"I was angry when I heard what had happened in Phoenix Park. Not because they'd killed Fabian. I told Vita he'd be safe once he handed over the records, but I'm not sure even she believed that. Anyhow, he had it coming. Nor because of the threat to my fee. Faraday hadn't found it difficult to track you down in Dublin, so I didn't reckon you'd be able to stay on the run for long. No, you weren't the real worry. Diana was.

"When the Irish police began investigating the killings in Phoenix Park, they found a cab driver whose description of a fare he took out to the park from a rank near the Shelbourne Hotel matched that of a man seen running away after the shooting. At the Shelbourne, they discovered the description also fitted an Englishman staying there called Morton, not seen since the night before. They were told Mr. Morton had been the constant companion of another guest from England, Miss Wood, who was still in the hotel. So they took Miss Wood in for questioning. She claimed Morton was just an acquaintance whose affairs she knew nothing about. Eventually, they decided to show her the three bodies in case she recognized them. But no. She said she'd never seen any of them before."

Poor Diana. I felt for her then, waiting all day for me to return, wondering where I could have gone. Then the police, full of questions she dare not answer. And Charnwood's corpse on a mortuary slab: a dead father she dared not claim.

"It must have been hard for her, Guy, don't you reckon, to stand there in that morgue and disown him? But she is hard, of course. Hard as a diamond. And determined. They gave up questioning her in the end and let her go. Just about the time last Friday night when you surprised me at the gate of Amber Court. Did I say surprised? Answered my prayers would be nearer the mark. I had you. Where Faraday had failed not once but twice, I had succeeded. Enough to justify a bonus, I reckon. Well, we'll have to see about that.

"I had to think quickly, of course, but that's something I've always been good at. Quick to get into trouble and quick to get out of it, the old man used to say. Anyhow, I had you, but I didn't have the records. Not quite. Still, you swallowed my line about going to the American papers, so laying hold of the records only meant waiting for this little subterfuge to run its course. Not bad, eh? And don't feel too sore about it, because it really was the best thing you could have done. The very best.

"Diana reached Dorking while I was in London on Saturday. Vita didn't tell her about the letter she'd sent to Fabian for fear of how she might react. And she didn't tell her about my involvement for the same reason. Diana's nerves were stretched taut by not knowing where you were or what you were up to or what she ought to do for the best. When I got back from Iver, I could see the state she was in and I reckoned there was only one way to get her off the hook without showing my hand. Vita agreed to back me up. I said you'd contacted me, told me everything and proposed we all decamp to the States with the records. I couldn't explain why you'd gone to meet Fabian alone, of course, without mentioning Vita's letter, so you'll have to dream up something to account for that. Be sure it's credible. We don't want '

He broke off, noticing my confused expression in the mirror. Then he smiled broadly. "You haven't got it yet, Guy, have you? We're all getting out. You, me, Diana and Vita, in exchange for the records. They're the terms Faraday and Vasaritch have agreed to, negotiated by my good and generous self. Diana's waiting in her cabin on the Leviathan. According to me, you said she was to go aboard early; you'd make contact once you were safely at sea; Vita and I would follow on the Olympic tomorrow to avoid a suspicious simultaneous departure; and we'd all meet up in New York next week to drop our bombshell on an unsuspecting world. Well, that's not quite how it's going to turn out. There'll be no bombshell, because there'll be no records. They stay here. You tell Diana you sold them to Faraday. You tell her you did what comes naturally to any con-man: you took the money and ran." He grinned and blew a self-congratulatory pair of smoke-rings towards the ceiling. They rose, dissolving as they did so in a mirage of concentricity.

"Yes, Quincy," I wanted to say. "Very clever. But money is the rock on which your plan founders. There isn't any, you see. No doubt you 're about to offer me some condescending fraction of your eagerly anticipated fee for selling this lie to Diana. But you needn't bother. Because you won't be paid anything. Not a penny. Not a cent."

"She has to be convinced it's all over, Guy," he said, lowering his voice. "If you just vanish along with the records, she'll go on pursuing the faint possibility of avenging her mother, especially now she has her father to avenge as well. She'll go on and on till they're forced to silence her. No, she has to believe you've sold out. She has to be persuaded her only ally is a man of straw. And she has to leave England. There are too many reminders here, too many reasons to go on chasing after the truth. She'll snap out of it in the States, believe me. I'll make sure she does. Oh, you can leave that side of things to me. I'm an old hand at it. All you have to do is tell her you've betrayed her, then walk out of her life. I'll even pay you to do it. Fabian died still owing you a thousand pounds, didn't he? So, why not let me write you out a check for that amount? One that won't bounce. By the way, I don't expect you to stay aboard till the ship reaches New York. Not with the Babcock trial still rumbling on. No, no. I'm a reasonable man. The Leviathan calls at Cherbourg this evening. Get off there. Go wherever you like. You'll have some spending money in your pocket. More than enough to use as seed-corn in a poker school. Or to snare some rich widow in Monte Carlo. You'll come out of this better than you could reasonably have expected to. Thanks to me."

"You think so, Quincy? You really think so?"

"I'll tell you a secret, Guy. Strictly between ourselves. Diana wanted to believe you were still honouring your bargain with her. She wanted to believe it so much I didn't really have to work very hard at fooling her. Oh, it sounded good, I know. The freedom-loving American press; the transatlantic dash into their welcoming arms; victory against the odds. I spin a convincing yarn when I need to, no question. But there was more to it than that. I think she might feel something for you. Really feel, I mean. If I'm right,

it makes you damn near unique among men. Just a pity we'll never find out, isn't it?"

Was he right? I wondered. Between the genuine doubts and false hopes, between passion and perversity, was there still something drawing us together? What was her mood as she waited aboard the Leviathan! What did she expect to happen when we met? Was I to be more than an ally of last resort? Was shel

"I'll tell you another secret, too. The last thing Maudie said to me when I saw her off on the Lusitania. Nothing about the Concentric Alliance. But about the voyage. She had some premonition she might not survive it. Made me promise, if she didn't, to look after Diana. She was worried Fabian would become too dominating an influence on the girl if she was no longer around. And she was worried about what kind of an influence he'd be. With good reason, as it turns out. I didn't take her seriously at the time. But I did promise. And it's good to keep a promise, don't you reckon? Even if you wait sixteen years to do it."

He let himself fall back onto the bed, bouncing slowly to rest on the mattress, and stared up at the ceiling. His voice took on a wistful tone, as if even his cynicism had its limits. "I should have listened to her, Guy. I should have dragged her off that ship by her hair. Then none of this might have.. . But I didn't. The Lusitania sailed with Maudie aboard. And at Penn station an hour later, waiting for the Pittsburgh train, I bought a New York Times and read the German Embassy's ad. "Travellers intending to embark for an Atlantic voyage are reminded that a state of war exists between Germany and Great Britain. The war-zone includes the waters adjacent to the British Isles. Vessels flying the British flag in the war-zone are therefore liable to destruction and travellers sailing in them do so at " '

The door flew abruptly open and Vasaritch strode in, followed by Faraday. The general's face was flushed and twitching with suppressed fury. Quincy sat slowly up and stared at him uncomprehendingly He did not yet know why his employer should be upset. But I did. Only too well.

"What's the matter with '

"Shut your mouth!" roared Vasaritch. "It is this man He stooped over me, knife in hand, flicked out the blade, prised at the rope holding the gag in place, then ripped through it and pulled the cloth from between my teeth. "It is this man I want to hear. Where is the money, Horton? Where is it?"

"I haven't '

A stinging blow caught me round the chin. There was blood on Vasaritch's knuckles as he pulled away and more of it clogging my mouth as he bellowed at me. "Do not say haven't or can't or don't or won't! Just tell me where it is before I kill you!"

"Hey!" put in Quincy. "What's the problem? You have the accounts, don't you?"

"We have them," said Faraday, his voice icily calm. "But they reveal nothing. Charnwood recorded an incredible series of capital losses, presumably to cover his tracks. What he really did with the money is unexplained."

"No it isn't," I protested. "The losses are the explanation."

"Absurd. Charnwood was a skilled financier. He could never have made such mistakes, one after another. It is simply not possible."

"Where is it?" repeated Vasaritch.

"I've no idea."

"Where?"

"I tell you I '

Vasaritch had swept back his arm to hit me again when Faraday laid a restraining hand on his elbow. "If he knows," he said softly, 'he will have some record of it. We have examined every piece of paper in the bag. But he may already have removed the vital piece."

"Very well," growled Vasaritch, lowering his arm. "Search him."

Faraday squatted in front of me and smiled. "Which pocket is it in, Horton? I don't want to have to turn them all out."

"I've removed nothing from the bag."

"Perhaps not. But in Phoenix Park, while you and Charnwood were waiting for us on the monument, didn't I see him hand you something? A letter of some kind? Or a note of where he hid the money?"

Of course. Charnwood's letter to Diana. Was that what it contained? Not a father's fond farewell, but the number of a Swiss bank account? It was possible, quite possible. And I had been planning to deliver it unopened! "Inside pocket of my jacket," I said, nodding to my left.

"Thank you." I shuddered as Faraday slid his questing fingers in to find the envelope, an involuntary reaction that seemed to amuse him. "Don't worry, Horton. This is all I want." He stood up, flourishing the letter. "Here we are."