covering up the truth. Now, I can believe that Augusta would tell any amount of lies for the sake of her son--but not for Micky. In those days she didn't even know him.'
'So what do you think happened?'
Hugh frowned. 'Imagine this. Edward gives up chasing you and goes back to the swimming hole. He finds Micky dragging Peter's body out of the water. As Edward arrives, Micky says: 'You fool, you've killed him!' Remember, Edward hasn't seen Micky holding Peter's head under. Micky pretends that Peter was so exhausted by Edward's ducking that he could swim no longer and he just drowned. 'What am I going to do?' says Edward. Micky says: 'Don't worry. We'll say it was an accident. In fact, we'll say you jumped in and tried to rescue him.' Micky thereby covers up his own crime and earns the undying gratitude of both Edward and Augusta. Does that make sense?'
Tonio nodded. 'By God, I think you're right.'
'We must go to the police,' Hugh said angrily.
'To what purpose?'
'You're witness to a murder. The fact that it happened thirteen years ago makes no difference. Micky must be brought to book.'
'You're forgetting something. Micky has diplomatic immunity.'
Hugh had not thought of that. As the Cordovan Minister, Micky could not be put on trial in Britain. 'He could still be disgraced and sent home.'
Tonio shook his head. 'I'm the only witness. Micky and Edward will both tell a different story. And it's well known that Micky's family and mine are sworn enemies back home. If it had happened yesterday we'd have trouble convincing anyone.' Tonio paused. 'But you might want to tell Edward that he's not a murderer.'
'I don't think he'd believe me. He'd suspect me of trying to stir up trouble between him and Micky. There is one person I must tell, though.'
'Who?'
'David Middleton.'
'Why?'
'I think he's entitled to know how his brother died,' Hugh said. 'He questioned me about it at the duchess of Tenbigh's ball. He was rather rude, in fact. But I said that if I knew the truth I would be honor-bound to tell him. I'll go and see him today.'
'Do you think he'll go to the police?'
'I assume he'll see that it would be pointless, as you and I have realized.' Suddenly he felt oppressed by the drab hospital ward and the grim talk of past murder. 'I'd better go to work.' He stood up. 'I'm going to be made a partner in the bank.'
'Congratulations! I'm sure you deserve it.' Tonio suddenly looked hopeful. 'Will you be able to stop the Santamaria railroad?'
Hugh shook his head. 'I'm sorry, Tonio. Much as I dislike the project, I can't do anything about it now. Edward has made a deal with Greenbournes Bank to float the bonds jointly. The partners of both banks have approved the issue and contracts are being drawn up. I'm afraid we've lost that battle.'
'Damn.' Tonio was crestfallen.
'Your family will have to find other ways to oppose the Mirandas.'
'I fear they may be unstoppable.'
'I'm sorry,' Hugh repeated. A new thought struck him and he frowned in puzzlement. 'You know, you've solved a mystery for me. I couldn't understand how Peter drowned when he was such a good swimmer. But your answer is an even greater mystery.'
'I'm not sure I follow you.'
'Think about it. Peter was innocently swimming; Edward ducked him, just out of general nastiness; we all ran away; Edward gave chase--and then Micky cold-bloodedly killed Peter. It has nothing to do with what went before. Why did it happen? What had Peter done?'
'I see what you mean. Yes, it's puzzled me for years.'
'Micky Miranda murdered Peter Middleton ... but why?'
Chapter FIVE
JULY
Section 1
AUGUSTA WAS LIKE A HEN that had laid an egg on the day Joseph's peerage was announced. Micky went to the house at teatime as usual and found the drawing room crowded with people congratulating her on becoming Countess Whitehaven. Her butler Hastead was wearing a smug smile and saying 'my lady' and 'your ladyship' at every opportunity.
She was amazing, Micky thought as he watched everyone buzzing around her like the bees in the sunny garden outside the open windows. She had planned her campaign like a general. At one point there had been a rumor that Ben Greenbourne was to get the peerage, but that had been killed by an eruption of anti-Jewish sentiment in the press. Augusta was not admitting, even to Micky, that she had been behind the press coverage, but he was sure of it. In some ways she reminded him of his father: Papa had the same remorseless determination. But Augusta was cleverer. Micky's admiration for her had grown as the years went by.
The only person who had ever defeated her ingenuity was Hugh Pilaster. It was astonishing how difficult he was to crush. Like a persistent garden weed, he could be stamped on time and time again and he would always grow back straighter and stronger than ever.
Happily, Hugh had been unable to stop the Santamaria railroad. Micky and Edward had proved too strong for Hugh and Tonio. 'By the way,' Micky said to Edward over the teacups, 'when are you going to sign the contract with Greenbournes?'
'Tomorrow.'
'Good!' Micky would be relieved when the deal was finally sewn up. It had dragged on for half a year, and Papa was now sending angry cables twice a week asking irascibly if he would ever get the money.
That evening Edward and Micky dined at the Cowes Club. Throughout the meal Edward was interrupted every few minutes by people congratulating him. One day he would inherit the title, of course. Micky was pleased. His association with Edward and the Pilasters had been a key factor in everything he had achieved, and greater prestige for the Pilasters would mean more power for Micky.
After dinner they moved to the smoking room. They were among the earliest diners and for a while they had the room to themselves. 'I have come to the conclusion that Englishmen are terrified of their wives,' said Micky as they lit their cigars. 'It is the only possible explanation for the phenomenon of the London club.'
'What the devil are you talking about?' said Edward.
'Look around you,' Micky said. 'This place is exactly like your home, or mine. Expensive furniture, servants everywhere, boring food and unlimited drink. We can eat all our meals here, get our mail, read the newspapers, take a nap, and if we get too drunk to fall into a cab we can even get a bed for the night. The only difference between an Englishman's club and his home is that there are no women in his club.'
'Don't you have clubs in Cordova, then?'
'Certainly not. No one would join. If a Cordovan man wants to get drunk, play cards, hear political gossip, talk about his whores, smoke and belch and fart in comfort he does it in his own home; and if his wife is foolish enough to object he slaps her until she sees reason. But an English gentleman is so frightened of his wife that he has to leave the house to enjoy himself. That's why there are clubs.'
'You don't seem to be frightened of Rachel. You've got rid of her, haven't
