Remember yourself, sir! You are under oath! Did you not tell Miss Latterly that someone had been embezzling from the Farraline printing company?”
“This is monstrous,” Gilfeather cried, waving his arms furiously. “And completely irrelevant. Miss Latterly is on trial for the murder of Mary Farraline. This can have nothing to do with the case at issue.”
Alastair made as if to rise to his feet, then subsided again, his expression anguished.
“No I didn’t,” Hector said with another sudden rush of clarity. “I can remember it now. That was Mr. Monk I told. He went off to find Mclvor about it, but he didn’t learn anything. Poor fool. I could have told him that. That’s all covered up now.”
There was a moment’s utter silence.
Rathbone sank onto the table in devastated relief.
Argyll’s dark face split into a grin.
The judge looked furious.
Monk punched his clenched fist into his open palm again and again till the flesh was bruised.
“Thank you, Major Farraline,” Argyll said quietly. “I am sure that you are right. It must have been Mr. Monk, and not Miss Latterly. That is my error, and I apologize.”
“Is that all?” Hector said curiously.
“Yes, thank you.”
Gilfeather swung around in a complete circle, staring at the gallery, the jurors, then at Hector.
Hector gave a discreet hiccup.
“Major Farraline, how many glasses of whiskey have you drunk this morning?” Gilfeather asked.
“I have no idea,” Hector said politely. “I don’t think I used a glass. Have one of those flasks, you know. Why?”
“No matter, sir. That is all, thank you.”
Hector began to fumble his way down the steps.
“Oh…” Gilfeather said quickly.
Hector stopped three steps from the bottom, clinging on to the rail.
“Do you keep the company books, Major Farraline?”
“Me? No, of course not. Young Kenneth does.”
“Have you seen them lately, Major? Say, within the last two weeks?”
“No. Don’t think so.”
“Can you read company accounts, sir?”
“Never tried. Not interested.”
“Quite so. Do you need assistance down the steps, sir?”
“No I don’t, sir. Make my own way.” And with that he missed his footing and slid the last three steps, landing inelegantly at the bottom. He straightened himself and walked unaided and quite steadily back to the gallery and was given a seat.
“My lord”-Argyll turned to the judge-”in view of Major Farraline’s evidence, I would like to call Kenneth Farraline.”
Gilfeather was on his feet. He hesitated, a protest on his lips.
The judge sighed. “Do you object, Mr. Gilfeather? It seems there is some question of embezzlement, real or imagined.”
Argyll smiled. If Gilfeather gained the impression he was perfectly happy to be denied Kenneth, and leave doubt in the jury’s minds, or a question of appeal, so much the better.
“No objection, my lord,” Gilfeather conceded. “It would be advisable to clear up all doubts.” He shot a tight smile at Argyll.
Argyll inclined his head in thanks.
Kenneth Farraline was called and took the stand looking acutely unhappy. He could feel the brooding, almost violent tension in the court, and he saw Argyll advance on him like a bear closing in for the kill.
“Mr. Farraline, your uncle, Major Hector Farraline, has told us that you keep the company books. Is that correct?”
“Irrelevant, my lord,” Gilfeather objected.
The judge hesitated.
“My lord, if there is embezzlement from the company books, and the head of that family has been murdered, it can hardly be irrelevant,” Argyll reasoned. “It provides an excellent motive, unconnected with Miss Latterly.”
The judge conceded the point, but with displeasure.
“You have not proved it yet, sir. So far it is merely a suggestion, indeed the rambhngs of a man the worse for drink. If you cannot show something more substantial, I shall disallow it next time Mr. Gilfeather objects.”
“Thank you, my lord.” Argyll turned back to Kenneth. “Mr. Farraline, was your mother aware of Major Farraline’s beliefs that the books had been tampered with?”
“I… I…” Kenneth looked wretched. He stared at Argyll with eyes unfocused, as if he longed to be looking elsewhere.
“Sir?” Argyll prompted.
“I’ve no idea,” Kenneth said abruptly. “It’s…” He swallowed. “Nonsense. Complete nonsense.” He faced Argyll with something like a challenge. “There is no money missing whatsoever.”
“And you are the bookkeeper, so you would know?”
“Precisely.”
“And you would also be in the best position to conceal it, if there were?”
“That…” Kenneth swallowed. “That is slanderous, sir, and quite unjust”
Argyll affected innocence.
“You would not be in the best position?”
“Yes… yes, of course I would. But there is nothing missing, nothing whatever.”
“And your mother was quite satisfied on that point?”
“I have said so!”
There was a murmur of disbelief around the room.
Gilfeather rose to his feet.
Argyll smiled. Kenneth was a very poor witness. He looked as if he were lying even if he were not.
“Very well, to another subject. Are you married, Mr. Farraline?”
“Irrelevant, my lord!” Gilfeather protested.
“Mr. Argyll,” the judge said wearily. “I will not tolerate any more of this meandering around. I have given you a great deal of latitude, but you have abused it.”
“It is relevant, my lord, I assure you.”
“I fail to see how.”
“Are you married, Mr. Farraline?” Argyll repeated.
“No.”
“Are you courting, sir?”
Kenneth hesitated, his face a dull red, sweat glistening on his lip. His eyes searched the gallery till they found Oonagh. He looked back at Argyll.
“No… no…”
“Have you then a mistress? One of which your family would not approve?”
Gilfeather started to rise, then realized the futility of it. Everyone in the room was waiting upon the answer. A woman moved and her stays creaked in the silence. A coal settled in one of the fires.
Kenneth gulped.
“No.”
“If I were to call Miss Adeline Barker to the stand, would she agree with you, Mr. Farraline?”
Kenneth’s face was scarlet.
“Yes… I mean, no. I… God damn it, it is none of your business. I did not kill my mother! She-” He stopped again just as suddenly.
“Yes? She knew about it?” Argyll prompted. “She did not know about it?”
“I have nothing else to say. I did not kill my mother, and the rest is none of your affair.”
