Something Wicked (29 page)

‘I thought it was you,’ Edward said. ‘May I join you for a moment?’

‘Of course,’ Mrs Booth said, waving towards a spare chair.

‘I didn’t know you were interested in rowing.’

‘Oh yes, Lord Edward,’ Dr Booth answered. ‘Living where we do, on the coast . . .’ His voice trailed off into silence.

‘I think you know why we are here,’ his wife said quietly.

‘I think I do. It’s because of your niece and Peter Lamming, isn’t it?’ She nodded her head. ‘You were James Herold’s nurse, were you not, Mrs Booth?’

‘I was but it’s not what you think,’ she replied, looking intently at Edward as though interrogating him. She laid a hand on his arm but withdrew it quickly, perhaps fearing it was too intimate a gesture. ‘It’s not what you think,’ she repeated.

‘Is it not? By the way, I should tell you that Mrs Herold is here. I don’t know if . . .’

‘I’m going to talk to her . . . explain,’ Mrs Booth said in a firm voice, ‘but not quite yet. This evening perhaps.’

‘You’re staying in Henley?’

‘At a bed and breakfast,’ her husband replied, perhaps deliberately not saying exactly where.

‘And General Lowther?’

‘We had nothing to do with the General’s death. You must believe me,’ Mrs Booth said, a glass half-raised to her lips. ‘Although we sent a wreath.’

‘I don’t quite understand . . .’ Edward said gently.

‘Of course you don’t,’ Dr Booth interrupted him. ‘After you visited us . . . Violet and I . . . well, we had a good chat. We talked about things we ought to have discussed long ago.’

‘You told me a lot I didn’t know, Lord Edward,’ Mrs Booth broke in. ‘We felt we had to do it for my sister . . .’

Just as he was about to ask her to explain what she meant, Edward sensed someone had come up behind him. Looking round, he saw it was Roderick Black. After he had been introduced to the Booths, Black said, ‘I hope I’m not interrupting, Corinth, but I was wondering if you and Miss Browne were going to watch my son win the Diamonds.’

‘Good heavens, is that the time?’ Edward said, looking at his watch. ‘Yes, if we can find Harry. We left him to stretch our legs and the last time I saw him he was up near Temple Island.’

‘Well, why not watch the race from my launch? I wanted to have a word with you anyway.’

‘Thank you. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I owe Guy for rescuing me from the island. Win or lose, he’s a fine boy. By the way, I wonder if there would be room for Dr and Mrs Booth to watch it with us.’ Black looked dubious and Edward wished he hadn’t suggested it.

‘I don’t want to sound inhospitable but I rather doubt there would be room . . .’ he began.

‘It’s a very kind thought, Lord Edward,’ Dr Booth said, coming to his rescue, ‘but we haven’t quite finished our lunch. I think we’ll watch from the stand. I gather your son has a good chance of winning, Mr Black. You must be very proud.’

‘I am, Dr Booth. Even though I think Burk is likely to win, Guy will certainly give him a run for his money.’

Edward rose to leave. ‘I’ll see you both later. We mustn’t keep everyone waiting.’

‘Where’s Miss Browne?’ Black asked as they walked towards the river.

‘She’s just . . . Damn it, where has she gone? I left her sitting here while I went to talk to the Booths. I told her not to move and now she’s vanished.’

‘No, there she is with her friend, Miss Stammers.’

‘Verity, I thought I’d lost you. Miss Stammers . . .’ Edward’s voice was cool. He still, unfairly, blamed her for taking Verity up in her Tiger Moth and almost killing her. ‘I was just going to watch Guy’s race. I don’t know where Harry’s got to but Mr Black has kindly invited us to watch it from his launch.’

‘Roderick, please!’ Mr Black insisted.

‘If you don’t think us rude, Mr Black – Roderick – Kay and I will watch from the bank,’ Verity said.

There was no time for him to argue and, in any case, she could see that he was keen to have Edward to himself.

On the launch, Edward found Mary Black, the Bruce-Dicks and their daughter, Sybil. As he drove the launch towards the start, Black beckoned Edward to sit beside him.

‘I wanted to thank you . . . congratulate you . . . on ridding us of that man Stille. I don’t know how much he told you but I got too far in with Mosley’s crowd – Jack Amery and his merry band. I was stupid, I realize that now. I thought Hitler had something to offer us. I still do, as a matter of fact, but it’s all too late. I can see that now. We’ll have to fight him this year or next. Stille blackmailed me into handing over some secret documents . . . nothing really sensitive, you understand.’ He shot Edward a glance to see how he was taking his confession but Edward remained impassive.

‘Anyway, Guy found out and made me go to Scotland Yard. They were going to use me to trap Stille . . . arrest him red-handed as he took the stuff I had left on Temple Island but you got there first. Damn glad you did. Much rather he was dead than merely deported. Scum like that always comes to the surface eventually. Do you blame me?’ He glanced again at Edward. ‘I blame myself. I was an arrogant fool. I hated Communism so much and still do. Not Miss Browne, of course, but the Party. It’s a disease – more deadly than TB – and, if we catch it, it’ll destroy England just as it destroyed Russia. My idea was that Hitler would do the job for us. Go to war with the Soviets and they could fight each other until both sides were exhausted, but I see now that it was a pipe dream. As long as, when war comes, we don’t have to fight alongside the Russkies. I couldn’t stomach that.’

‘I’m glad it’s all over,’ Edward responded non-committally. ‘Hey! There’s Guy.’ Gratefully, he turned his attention to the race which was just about to start.

Black took the launch round the island so it was positioned behind the umpire’s launch. Edward saw that, although there was a notice on the apron of grass which formed the island’s ‘prow’, there was no sign of a police guard. There might, of course, be a constable dozing inside the temple but he would surely be outside on such a glorious day watching the activity on the river. There was, he supposed, nothing much to guard. Stille’s body had been removed and the temple thoroughly examined. There was no doubt about what had happened and, although the Janus statue was still lying on its side, it was no longer blocking the stone steps to the roof.

The gun was fired and the race began. At first their sculls seemed almost relaxed as Burk and Guy used long, lazy strokes to propel their fragile craft over the tranquil water. Then, at the halfway point when they were level pegging, the American seemed to pull away. Just when Edward thought it was all over, Burk seemed to falter and, in less than a minute, Guy was once again alongside him. The last few hundred yards saw a battle of wills acted out on the most public of stages.

Perhaps it was because of an unspoken feeling among those watching that this would be the last regatta before war and these young men, striving on the river that ran through this quiet English town, might soon be fighting on a foreign front, but the struggle seemed, at least to Edward, unbearably poignant. This was English decency on display, honest rivalry that men like Major Stille could never understand.

Still neck and neck, the two pairs of splashing sculls came down over the finishing line. The flag was waved and the race was over. But who had won? Could it even have been a dead heat? There was an agonizing wait while the officials deliberated. And then the announcement. Burk was declared the winner. A groan from Black was followed by a burst of applause which even he had to join in, knowing that it was for his son as much as the winner. The American had triumphed but the courage and sheer guts of the challenger had captured the hearts of the watching crowds.

Black hurriedly moored the launch and went to congratulate Guy. Edward and Bruce-Dick followed more slowly, not wishing to come between father and son.

‘A very game lad,’ Bruce-Dick opined.

‘Indeed,’ Edward said. It was not the English way to indulge in superlatives.

After Guy’s race – it was announced that Burk had broken the record for the Diamonds by a full eight seconds, completing the course in eight minutes and ten seconds – Edward’s interest in the regatta was all but over. Having shaken Guy by the hand, he went off in search of Verity. He had a strange premonition that he ought not to have let her out of his sight. He told himself that Stille was dead so there was nothing to fear, but why did his heart say otherwise?

He found Verity and Kay comforting Cathy Herold. ‘Oh, Edward – there you are! Could you take Cathy home? She’s had a rather unpleasant experience and she’s very shaken,’ Verity explained.

‘Of course, but what’s happened?’

‘Harry sort of jumped on her,’ Kay answered.

‘In the launch?’

‘Yes, they had moored behind the island, out of sight and were . . .’

‘We were kissing,’ Cathy sobbed, clutching a handkerchief to her face. ‘Nothing more, I promise, and then he tried to . . .’

‘He tried to rape her,’ Verity finished her sentence, speaking with quiet anger.

‘I told him to stop but he just wouldn’t. I told him I liked him . . . I
did
like him but it was all going too fast . . . I screamed and then . . .’

‘And then he hit her,’ Kay said. ‘Show Lord Edward your face.’

Unwillingly, Cathy raised her head and took away the handkerchief. Edward saw there was a nasty bruise on her cheek.

‘Oh God! I’m so sorry, Cathy. I never thought he would be violent. How did you get away from him?’

‘I told him I would scream the place down if he didn’t take me straight back to the Stewards’ Enclosure.’ She managed a smile through her tears. ‘He seemed to believe me, so here I am.’

‘Let’s go to the first-aid tent and have that bruise looked at,’ Edward urged her. ‘Do you want to make a formal complaint . . . to the police, I mean?’

‘No . . . I’m all right, Lord Edward. You’re all very kind but I’m not badly hurt. It was just the shock of it. If you can take me home, I’ll be all right, honestly. It was partly my fault. I shouldn’t have encouraged him.’

‘I know what you mean,’ Kay said. ‘When Harry’s being charming, one wants to give him anything. He did the same with me at the dance at Phyllis Court the other evening but I laughed him out of it. He said he wanted to take me to a secret place where we could be alone. I think he tries it on with every half-decent woman he meets.’

Edward looked angry and anxious. ‘I’ll take you home, Cathy. Fenton’s around somewhere but in any case I think my knee is up to . . . Ah! There he is, just when we need him. Fenton, will you get the car? We’re taking Mrs Herold home. She’s not feeling very well. Will you two be all right?’ he added, turning to Kay and Verity.

‘Of course! Or would you like us to come with you?’ Kay asked.

‘Verity, you need to rest,’ Edward said bossily. ‘Perhaps it would be better if you came with me, Kay. A woman’s touch and all that.’

14

All the time he was with Cathy, Edward felt nervous and angry. Even though this was the Harry he had known in Kenya, he had tried to convince himself that the man had changed – become something better, softer, more mature. But now he was forced to admit that the leopard had not changed his spots – nor could he. Harry was still the vain, heartless womanizer who had viewed all women – married or not – as fair game. He had the old hunter’s belief in nature’s innate savagery and the scars to prove it. You killed or you were killed.

As soon as he could, Edward left Cathy chatting away to Kay. They seemed to get along. Both were active, outdoor women with the same taste in men. It was not surprising, he thought, that their views on the world – which primarily meant men – were similar. Neither seemed to notice when he made his excuses, saying he had to get back to Verity. It was quite absurd, he knew, but he was convinced that some danger threatened her and that, in her condition, she would not be able to protect herself. He was not normally someone who set much store by hunches or premonitions but, this once, he was the victim of some terror – there was no other word for it – that had started as a vague fear and now had him by the throat.

Fenton drove him back to the regatta and Edward asked if he would help him look for Verity. ‘With my knee,’ he said, waving his stick, ‘I can’t move very fast. Let’s meet back here in about an hour.’

He sent Fenton to walk along the river bank and gave him his binoculars so he could scan the hundreds of small boats still bobbing about on the water. Edward couldn’t understand why he had failed to agree a definite meeting place with Verity even though he knew only too well that she never stayed in one place for more than five minutes.

He tried to think logically of all the places where she might have gone. As far as he could see, she was not in the stands on his side of the river. He limped over to the tea tent but there was no sign of her and everything had been cleared away. He thought the Booths might have seen her but they too had vanished. He looked in on George Bushell’s photographic exhibition, wondering if she had wanted to look at her picture again, but she was not there and nor was George. An assistant told him that he had gone to photograph the finals of the Diamonds and had not yet returned.

Edward’s knee was beginning to trouble him – perhaps because he had walked too much or possibly in sympathy with his anxious heart. It was ridiculous to think that Verity could have been abducted in the midst of the throng. If anyone had tried anything like that, all she had to do was cry out and someone would have come to her rescue. On the other hand, perhaps no one would have noticed anything unusual. He thought of Harry. Might he have tried something? But surely he would be licking his wounds after failing to seduce Cathy Herold. He turned on his heel and limped back towards the river.

There were fewer launches moored near the stands now the regatta was drawing to a close and he searched anxiously for Harry’s. It was larger than most and to his relief he spotted it but whether Harry was there or not was another matter. Reaching it, he thought at first there was no one on board but then he heard voices coming from the cabin. Clumsily, he climbed aboard, almost falling over as he did so, and the voices stopped. The cabin door was closed and, feeling suddenly shy about barging in on his friend and perhaps interrupting some amorous encounter, he knocked.