'It's convenient that Miss Chater died just then, isn't it?' Berryman went on, his tone wheedling.
I exploded. For the last ten minutes I had become confused and afraid, not sure exactly what they thought I had done, or even really sure whether what I had actually done was right or wrong. I had been on the defensive, reeling from one veiled accusation to another. But this last insinuation went one step too far. I wasn't exactly sure who had killed Debbie, but I knew for sure it wasn't me.
'I don't have to take all this crap. Just because you don't have a clue what happened, you can't throw allegations around at random, hoping one will stick. Debbie was a good friend of mine. I didn't kill her, and you have no grounds for thinking I did. If you think I did, let's go to the police and discuss it. If you don't, then shut up.'
Berryman was taken aback by my outburst. He opened his mouth to say something, and then thought better of it. He turned to Hamilton, who had been watching all this impassively.
'Do you mind if I ask you a question or two?'
'I will answer questions of fact, not unsubstantiated allegations.' Hamilton's voice was reasonable but firm. Berryman shrank.
'Was Murray authorised to purchase the Gypsum bonds?'
'Of course he was,' Hamilton replied. 'He is authorised to trade for the firm.'
'Did he receive specific authorisation to buy the bonds?'
'No. I was in Japan at the time. But he didn't need authorisation from me.'
'When you returned, did you approve of the purchase?'
Hamilton paused. Berryman waited. Eventually Hamilton said, 'No, I didn't.'
'Why not?'
'Paul had a hunch that Gypsum of America would be taken over. In my view, he didn't have enough information to back that hunch.'
'But if Murray had known for certain that Gypsum was going to be taken over, then the trade would have seemed a good one?'
'Yes, of course. A sure way to make money.'
'In retrospect, doesn't it seem likely that Murray did in fact know for certain that Gypsum was going to be taken over, and that is why he purchased the bonds?'
Hamilton stood up, 'Now, Mr Berryman, I told you that I would not respond to unsubstantiated allegations. I think you had better leave.'
Berryman tidied up all his papers and put them in his briefcase. The other man, Short, scribbled on for a few seconds and did the same.
'Thank you for your co-operation,' Berryman said. 'I should be grateful if you could send me copies of your own internal records of the bond and share purchases made by Mr Murray, and the tape of all Mr Murray's telephone conversations on the sixteenth of July.' All phone calls in trading rooms are taped, either to settle disputes on who said what, or, very occasionally, to assist the authorities in their inquiries.
Hamilton showed the two men to the lift. I sank back in my chair, shocked and confused. Berryman clearly thought he was on to something. What false trail he could have picked up, I didn't know. Whatever it was, it didn't look good for me.
Hamilton came back into the room. 'Well?' he said.
I sighed. 'I bought the bonds and the shares because I guessed Gypsum was going to be taken over. I had no inside knowledge that it would be.'
Hamilton smiled. 'OK, laddie, I believe you.'
I felt a surge of relief rush over me. It was good to know someone believed me. 'It didn't sound too good, did it?' I said. I wasn't at all sure how I had done, and I needed to know what Hamilton thought.
He stroked his beard. 'They can't prove anything yet, but they seem quite sure they have something on you. Look, why don't you just tidy up your desk for the next few minutes and then go home. You are in no fit state to trade.'
I nodded thankfully, and did as Hamilton suggested. As soon as I got home, I put on my running kit and set off pounding round the park. I did two circuits, eight miles, pushing myself all the way. The pain in my legs and lungs tugged my mind away from the morning's interview, and the steady emission of adrenalin into the bloodstream soothed my nerves.
As I lay soaking in a hot bath afterwards, the problem fell into perspective. I had done nothing wrong. I had no inside information. A successful prosecution was highly unlikely; the record of the financial regulators on that score was appalling. As long as De Jong continued to support me I would be all right, and Hamilton seemed firm on that score.
I had been in the bath for twenty minutes when the phone rang. It was difficult to summon up the energy to answer it, but eventually I did. It was Hamilton.
'How are you, Paul?'
'Oh, I've just been for a run and I feel much better.'
'Good, good. I've just spoken to Berryman. I told him that it was important to De Jong and to you, that they should sort this problem out soon. Either you did something wrong and they can prove it, or you didn't and they can stop pestering us. They said they should be in a position to let us know by the end of the week. So, why don't you take the rest of the week off? You'll be no good at a trading desk anyway with this hanging over you.'
'OK,' I said. 'I'm glad they think they can clear it up so soon. I'll see you next Monday.'
But as I hung up the phone, I felt uneasy. If they were confident of resolving the case by Friday, it seemed more likely that it was because they felt they were close to proving my guilt than because they were close to giving up.
I was pulling on my clothes, my spirits sinking again, when the phone rang once more.
It was my sister, Linda. 'Now then, Paul, how's life been keeping you?' she said.
'Fine, fine, and you?' I replied, wondering what on earth she could be ringing about. We scarcely ever spoke to each other, and when we did, it was only because we were both with my mother at the same time. This was something Linda tried to avoid. I suppose we didn't like each other. It wasn't an active dislike. Like everything else it had its roots in my father's death. Linda had felt it was my role to be the man of the house and had disapproved deeply when I had gone to Cambridge and then London. She herself lived only ten miles away, in the neighbouring dale. She had married a farmer, a big brute of a man whom I disliked intensely. She worshipped him, and compared me unfavourably to him at every opportunity. As I said, we didn't talk much.
'What's up?' I asked, wanting to get to the point 'Is it something to do with Mum?'
'Yes,' Linda said. 'Don't worry, she's not ill or anything. It's her house. You know Lord Mablethorpe died a couple of months ago?'
'Yes, Mum told me.'
'Well, his son has told her she has got to get out.'
'What? He can't do that. Lord Mablethorpe promised her that house until she dies. His son knows that.'
'There's nothing on paper about that,' Linda continued. 'He says he can do what he likes. He says he has received a very attractive offer for it from a television producer who wants to use it as a weekend cottage.'
'What a bastard.'
'Just what I said. I told our Jim to go round and give him what for, but he said that was your job.'
Typical of our Jim, I thought, but he had a point. 'OK, I'll see what I can do.'
I thought of getting in touch with the new Lord Mablethorpe in London, but decided it would probably be best to see him in his ancestral home. Maybe then he would think about his ancestral responsibilities.
I rang Helmby Hall. Fortunately Lord Mablethorpe was there all week, shooting grouse. I made an appointment to see him the next day, and rang my mother to tell her I would be staying the night. She sounded distressed, but was relieved I would be coming.
I set out on the long drive early. I successfully put the Gypsum investigation out of my mind. There was, after all, nothing I could do about it. Similarly my desire to unravel the mystery surrounding Debbie's death and the Tremont Capital fraud had faded a little, or at any rate become less immediate. I was in a sort of limbo, and in a way I was grateful to this latest family problem for providing me with a distraction.
I arrived at my mother's in time for a late lunch. Over the shepherd's pie, she chattered on about her house and garden, about how it was so central in the village. She obviously was going to be very upset if she had to leave. I hoped I would be able to find her something else in Barthwaite. Without the considerate neighbours who knew and
