'Yes,' he said calmly. 'I think the fish soup may not have been perfectly fresh tonight.'
Edward waved at a waiter. 'Bring this man a glass of brandy.'
Micky looked at his cards. He had a nine and a ten, the perfect hand. He bet a sovereign.
He just could not lose today.
Section 2
HUGH WENT TO SEE MAISIE two days after Solly died.
He found her alone, sitting quiet and still on a sofa, neatly dressed in a black gown, looking small and insignificant in the splendor of the drawing room at the palatial Piccadilly house. Her face was lined with grief and she looked as if she had not slept. His heart ached for her.
She threw herself into his arms and said: 'Oh, Hugh, he was the best of us!'
When she said that, Hugh himself could not keep the tears back. Until this moment he had been too stunned to cry. It was a dreadful fate to die as Solly had, and he deserved it less than any man Hugh could name. 'There was no malice in him,' he said. 'He seemed incapable of it. I knew him for fifteen years and I can't remember a single time when he was unkind to someone.'
'Why do such things happen?' Maisie said miserably.
Hugh hesitated. Just a few days ago he had learned, from Tonio Silva, that Micky Miranda had killed Peter Middleton all those years ago. Because of that, Hugh could not help wondering whether Micky had had something to do with the death of Solly. The police were looking for a well-dressed man who had been arguing with Solly just before he was run over. Hugh had seen Micky entering the Cowes Club at around the time Solly died, so he had certainly been in the neighborhood.
But there was no motive: quite the reverse. Solly had been on the point of closing the Santamaria railroad deal that was so close to Micky's heart. Why would he kill his benefactor? Hugh decided to say nothing to Maisie about his unfounded suspicions. 'It seems to have been a tragic accident,' he said.
'The coachman thinks Solly was pushed. Why would the witness run away if he wasn't guilty?'
'He may have been attempting to rob Solly. That's what the newspapers are saying, anyway.' The papers were full of the story. It was a sensational case: the grisly death of a prominent banker, one of the richest men in the world.
'Do thieves wear evening dress?'
'It was almost dark. The coachman may have been mistaken about the man's clothing.'
Maisie detached herself from Hugh and sat down again. 'And if you had only waited a little longer you could have married me instead of Nora,' she said.
Hugh was startled by her frankness. The same thought had come to him within seconds of hearing the news--but he was ashamed of it. It was typical of Maisie to come right out and say what they were both thinking. He was not sure how to respond, so he made a foolish joke. 'If a Pilaster married a Greenbourne, it would be not so much a wedding as a merger.'
She shook her head. 'I'm not a Greenbourne. Solly's family never really accepted me.'
'You must have inherited a big chunk of the bank, though.'
'I've inherited nothing, Hugh.'
'But that's impossible!'
'It's true. Solly had no money of his own. His father gave him a huge monthly allowance, but he never settled any capital on him, because of me. Even this house is rented. I own my clothes, furniture and jewelry, so I'll never starve. But I'm not the heir to the bank--and neither is little Bertie.'
Hugh was astonished--and angry that anyone should be so mean to Maisie. 'The old man won't even provide for your son?'
'Not a penny. I saw my father-in-law this morning.'
It was a shabby way to treat her, and Hugh as her friend felt personally affronted. 'It's disgraceful,' he said.
'Not really,' Maisie said. 'I gave Solly five years of happiness, and in return I had five years of the high life. I can go back to normal. I'll sell my jewelry, invest the money and live quietly on the income.'
It was hard to take in. 'Will you go and live with your parents?'
'In Manchester? No, I don't think I can go quite that far back. I'll stay in London. Rachel Bodwin is opening a hospital for unmarried mothers: I might work with her.'
'There's a lot of fuss about Rachel's hospital. People think it's scandalous.'
'Then it should suit me very well!'
Hugh was still hurt and worried by Ben Greenbourne's ill-treatment of his daughter-in- law. He decided he would have a word with Greenbourne and try to change the man's mind. He would not mention it to Maisie beforehand, though. He did not want to raise her hopes and then disappoint them. 'Don't make any sudden decisions, will you?' he counseled.
'Such as?'
'Don't move out of the house, for example. Greenbourne might try to confiscate your furniture.'
'I won't.'
'And you need a lawyer of your own, to represent your interests.'
She shook her head. 'I no longer belong to the class of people who call in a lawyer the way they summon a footman. I have to count the cost. I shan't see a lawyer unless I feel sure I'm being cheated. And I don't think that will happen. Ben Greenbourne isn't dishonest. He's just hard: as hard as iron, and as cold. It's amazing that he fathered someone as warmhearted as Solly.'
'You're very philosophical,' Hugh said. He admired her courage.
Maisie shrugged. 'I've had an amazing life, Hugh. I was destitute at eleven and fabulously wealthy at nineteen.' She touched a ring on her finger. 'This diamond is probably worth more money than my mother has ever seen. I gave the best parties in London; I met everyone who was anyone; I danced with the Prince of Wales. I've no regrets. Except that you married Nora.'
'I'm very fond of her,' he said unconvincingly.
'You were angry because I wouldn't have an affair with you,' Maisie said brutally. 'You were desperate for sexual release. And you picked Nora because she reminded you of me. But she's not me, and now you're unhappy.'
Hugh winced as if he had been struck. All this was painfully near to the truth. 'You never liked her,' he said.
'And you may say I'm jealous, and you may be right, but I still say she never loved you and she married you for your money. I'll bet you've found that to be true since the wedding, haven't you?'
Hugh thought of how Nora refused to make love more than once a week, and how she changed her tune if he bought her gifts; and he felt miserable and looked away. 'She's always been deprived,' he said. 'It's not surprising that she became materialistic.'
