'Micky, it's too awful to contemplate!' she whispered.
'Then we must do something.'
Augusta squeezed his hands, then released them and took stock. She had faced the magnitude of the problem. She had seen the shadow of the gallows fall on her only son. It was time to stop agonizing and take action. Thank God, Edward had a true friend in Micky. 'We must make sure David Middleton's inquiries lead nowhere. How many people know the truth?'
'Six,' Micky said immediately. 'Edward, you and me make three, but we aren't going to tell him anything. Then there is Hugh.'
'He wasn't there when the boy died.'
'No, but he saw enough to know that the story we told the coroner was false. And the fact that we lied makes us look guilty.'
'Hugh is a problem, then. The others?'
'Tonio Silva saw it all.'
'He never said anything at the time.'
'He was too frightened of me then. But I'm not sure he is now.'
'And the sixth?'
'We never found out who that was. I didn't see his face at the time, and he has never come forward. I'm afraid there's nothing we can do about him. However, if nobody knows who he is I don't suppose he's any danger to us.'
Augusta felt a fresh tremor of fear: she was not sure about that. There was always a danger the unknown witness might reveal himself. But Micky was right to say there was nothing they could do. 'Two people we can deal with, then: Hugh and Tonio.'
There was a thoughtful silence.
Hugh could no longer be regarded as a minor nuisance, Augusta reflected. His pushy ways were gaining him credit at the bank, and Teddy looked plodding by comparison. Augusta had managed to sabotage the romance between Hugh and Lady Florence Stalworthy. But now Hugh was threatening Teddy in a much more dangerous way. Something had to be done about him. But what? He was a Pilaster, albeit a bad one. She racked her brains and came up with nothing.
Micky said thoughtfully: 'Tonio has a weakness.'
'Ah, yes?'
'He's a bad gambler. Bets more than he can afford, and loses.'
'Perhaps you could arrange a game?'
'Perhaps.'
The thought crossed Augusta's mind that Micky might know how to cheat at cards. However, she could not possibly ask him: the suggestion would be mortally insulting to any gentleman.
Micky said: 'It might be expensive. Would you stake me?'
'How much would you need?'
'A hundred pounds, I fear.'
Augusta did not hesitate: Teddy's life was at stake. 'Very well,' she said. She heard voices in the house: other teatime guests were beginning to arrive. She stood up. 'I'm not sure how to deal with Hugh,' she went, on worriedly. 'I'll have to think about it. We must go inside.'
Her sister-in-law Madeleine was there, and began talking as soon as they stepped through the door. 'That dressmaker will drive me to drink, two hours to pin a hem, I can't wait for a cup of tea, oh, and you've got more of that heavenly almond cake, but my goodness, isn't the weather hot?'
Augusta gave Micky's hand a conspiratorial squeeze and sat down to pour the tea.
Chapter FOUR
AUGUST
Section 1
LONDON WAS HOT AND STICKY, and the population longed for fresh air and open fields. On the first day of August everyone went to the races at Goodwood.
They traveled by special trains from Victoria Station in south London. The divisions of British society were carefully mirrored in the transport arrangements--high society in the upholstered luxury of the first-class coaches, shopkeepers and schoolteachers crowded but comfortable in second class, factory workers and domestic servants crammed together on hard wooden benches in third. When they got off the train the aristocracy took carriages, the middle class boarded horse buses, and the workers walked. The picnics of the rich had been sent by earlier trains: scores of hampers, carried on the shoulders of strapping young footmen, packed with china and linen, cooked chickens and cucumbers, champagne and hothouse peaches. For the less wealthy there were stalls selling sausages, shellfish and beer. The poor brought bread and cheese wrapped in handkerchiefs.
Maisie Robinson and April Tilsley went with Solly Greenbourne and Tonio Silva. Their position in the social hierarchy was dubious. Solly and Tonio clearly belonged in first class, but Maisie and April should have gone third. Solly compromised by buying second-class tickets, and they took the horse bus from the station across the downs to the racecourse.
However, Solly was too fond of his food to settle for a lunch bought off a stall, and he had sent four servants ahead with a vast picnic of cold salmon and white wine packed in ice. They spread a snow- white tablecloth on the ground and sat around it on the springy turf. Maisie fed Solly titbits. She was growing more and more fond of him. He was kind to everyone, full of fun, and interesting to talk to. Gluttony was his only real vice. She still had not let him have his way with her, but it seemed that the more she refused him, the more devoted to her he became.
The racing began after lunch. There was a bookmaker nearby, standing on a box and shouting odds. He wore a loud checked suit, a flowing silk tie, a huge spray of flowers in his buttonhole, and a white hat. He carried a leather satchel full of money slung over his shoulder and stood under a banner which read: 'Wm. Tucker, the King's Head, Chichester.'
Tonio and Solly bet on every race. Maisie got bored: one horse race was the same as another if you didn't gamble. April would not leave Tonio's side, but Maisie decided to leave the others for a while and look around.
The horses were not the only attraction. The downs around the racecourse were crowded with tents, stalls and carts. There were gambling booths, freak shows, and dark-skinned gypsies in bright head scarves telling fortunes. People were selling gin, cider, meat pies, oranges and Bibles. Barrel organs and bands competed with one another, and through the crowds wandered conjurers and jugglers and acrobats, all asking for pennies. There were dancing dogs, dwarfs and giants and men on stilts. The boisterous carnival atmosphere reminded Maisie powerfully of the circus, and she suffered a nostalgic twinge of regret for the life she had left behind. The entertainers were here to take money from the public any way they could and it warmed her heart to see them succeed.
She knew she should be taking more from Solly. It was crazy to be walking out with one of the richest men in the world and living in one room in Soho. By now she ought to be wearing diamonds and furs and have her eye on a little suburban house in St. John's Wood or Clapham. Her job riding Sammles's horses would not last much longer: the London season was coming to an end and the people who could afford to buy horses were leaving for the country. But she would not let Solly give her anything but flowers. It drove April mad.
She passed a big marquee. Outside were two girls dressed as bookmakers and a man in a black suit shouting: 'The only racing certainty at Goodwood today is the coming Day of Judgment! Stake your faith on Jesus, and the payout is eternal life.' The interior of the tent looked cool and shady, and on impulse she
