“LMF?”
“Low Moral Fiber.”
Maisie tasted the salty saliva that flooded her mouth. She swallowed before continuing her questioning. “Georgina, I know you said Nick had just joined the regiment, but did he know the men who committed this dreadful act, or their commanding officer?”
Frowning, Georgina replied. “Well, that’s the thing, I believe he must have, because I can just remember him saying that it was terrible what war could do, to change a man, to bring about a sort of anarchy where soldiers— human beings—would do something out of fear.”
“Fear?”
“Yes, that fear we have of someone who was one of us, but who has now changed. Nick always said that he wanted to show how people were joined, how they were the same, that it was something sacred. And he said that’s what scared people—people like those men—seeing something terrible that could so easily have been them, so they have to destroy it. Mob rule.” She shook her head. “And isn’t it funny, that ‘sacred’ can be ‘scared,’ if you jiggle the letters around a bit.”
“Did he paint this scene?”
“I’m sure he did. I looked for it when I went to the carriage after he died. In fact, I looked for work that depicted some of his stories and found only those general war sketches that you must have seen.”
“I’d hardly call them general.”
“Yes, I know.”
Maisie checked her watch, taking a seat next to her client once again. “And what about compassion? Did he draw those episodes?”
“I can see no reason why he wouldn’t have. I believe there’s a whole body of work that we haven’t seen, to tell you the truth, and I believe that Nick kept those sketches and detailed pieces safe away from view because they were like a rehearsal for the big show—the piece we can’t find, the triptych.”
Picking up her notes, Maisie knew she must make progress. “I’d like to come back to Nick’s work next time we meet. However, I do have a few more questions for you now. To get straight to the point, had Nick had any arguments with anyone lately? I know I have asked this before, but I must ask again.”
“Well, though they all lived in Dungeness, the boys—Quentin, Alex and Duncan—weren’t quite as close as they once were. They’re all pretty much moving away now. In fact, I understand that Duncan and Quentin are going down again on Wednesday—they’re both moving, you know, I think they have to pack and such like.” She paused, for a second. “And Nick was distancing himself from everyone, it seemed, though that isn’t unusual for someone like my brother, an artist preparing for months for a major exhibition.”
“And within your family?”
“Nick had argued with Harry. You have probably guessed that by now. Harry is both man and boy, with the boy being more obvious most of the time. And he gambles with a nasty losing habit, so he’s come to both Nick and me for help. No good going to Nolly. Nick took him to task last time he got into big trouble.”
“What do you call big trouble?”
“A few hundred pounds.”
“And Nick could help?”
“He had reached a position where his art commanded a good price. Since Nick died, Harry has come to me twice. I was careful with my money, and I invested a bequest from my grandmother very wisely and managed to pull it out of stocks just in the nick of time, but I can’t fritter it away on Harry. Mind you, I have helped him out just lately.”
“Where does he work?”
“Various clubs, you know—the Kit Kat, the Trocadero, the Embassy, that sort of thing.”
Maisie didn’t know, but needed to locate Harry. “I’d like to talk to him, Georgina. May I have his address?”
“I—I don’t actually have it.”
“I see. Well, then, a list of the clubs, perhaps?”
“All right, I’ll scribble a few down. I always depend on Harry to turn up when he needs something, to be perfectly honest. And he never disappoints me.”
Maisie flicked through some notes. “Now, then, how about Nick and Nolly?”
Georgina sighed. “As you know, Nolly can be terribly difficult. And she hasn’t always been like that, though she wasn’t quite like the rest of us. She adored Godfrey, her husband, and is bent upon cherishing his memory as a war hero.”
“Yes, she said as much to me.”
“It’s sad, really. I mean, he was a delightful chap, but a bit bland. We all joked that it was her quest to breed some common sense into the line—you know, a few farmers, accountants and solicitors. Being a Bassington-Hope must have been so terribly hard on her, when I think of it. Mind you, she and Nick were very close when he came back.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Of course, I was still away, and Nolly visited him just about every day in hospital and convalescence, then remained in London with him, just to make sure he was all right when he started work at the Office of Information. I think the fact that he was with Godfrey when he died—”
“Nick was with Nolly’s husband?”
“Didn’t you know? I was sure…well, anyway, he was with him when he died. Godfrey was in the regiment that Nick joined—just a fluke, but that sort of thing happened all the time.” Georgina was thoughtful, then she looked at
