Carswall nodded to Iversen, who cocked his pistol and took a step towards me.
'Not him,' Carswall said. 'The girl first. Let him see the effect of his silence before he feels it.'
Iversen nodded and untied Mary Ann's wrists. Leaving her bound around the legs, he hooked his arm through hers and dragged her towards the door. She was still gagged but she made a gargling noise in the back of her throat that was more painfully eloquent than any quantity of words.
'Stop,' I said. 'There is no need for the girl to be hurt.'
Carswall leaned back on the settle and opened his watch. 'I will give you a minute to convince me.'
'Will you set her free?'
'Perhaps. It depends how honest you are.'
I had no choice in the matter. I said, 'Mr Noak believes that Henry Frant was responsible, directly or indirectly, for the murder of his estranged son in Canada during the late war. He believes that Lieutenant Saunders died because he threatened to expose corrupt dealings on the part of Wavenhoe's Bank, or rather on the part of Mr Henry Frant. Furthermore, he suspects but has not yet succeeded in proving that you yourself, Mr Carswall, were Frant's partner in this corruption, and are therefore, to some extent at least, a party to Lieutenant Saunders's murder.'
Carswall puffed up his cheeks and blew out a gust of air. 'What evidence has he?'
'Nothing that confirms your guilt. However, Mr Noak's investigation uncovered Henry Frant's embezzlement since he took over the direction of Wavenhoe's. Mr Noak took steps to hasten the collapse of the bank and Mr Frant's ruin.'
'But the matter did not end there,' Carswall said softly.
'No, sir, it did not. Mr Noak struck up an acquaintance with you. His negotiations over the proposed sale of the Liverpool warehouses convinced him that you had an active involvement in the Canadian operation, though it did not prove you had a hand in his son's death.' I hesitated. 'And then there was the business of Mrs Johnson and the ice-house.'
I felt the atmosphere suddenly change in the room when I mentioned those last words. Iversen let out a tiny sigh.
'It was an accident,' Carswall said with a sniff. 'The Coroner said so.'
'An accident, sir? But I think the Coroner was unaware that she was not alone. There was a man with her.'
'I should have thought it an unlikely time and place for a romantic assignation.'
'That was not their purpose. Henry Frant and Mrs Johnson had concealed certain items of value in the ice- house, in the hope that they would be able to build a new life for themselves after the bank's collapse, perhaps abroad and under assumed names.'
Carswall raised his great eyebrows. 'I can conceive of nothing less likely.'
'They left behind the ring. Or rather he did.'
'The ring? The ring you stole?'
'The ring you had a servant conceal in my coat, to give colour to the false accusation you made against me.'
'False? False, you say? Then where is the ring?'
'I cannot tell you that. But I can tell you that it will soon be delivered to your house in Margaret-street. But to return to Mr Noak: he obtained a list of the securities that went missing when the bank collapsed. They included a bill that was recently cashed in Riga.'
'And how does Mr Noak explain this?'
'He believes that Henry Frant contrived his own murder, and is still alive, and that you and he have come to an arrangement.'
Carswall cleared the phlegm from his throat. 'Pray enlighten me.'
'You assist him to convert the securities and perhaps other items into ready money. Mr Frant dares not do this himself, even abroad, because not only is there the question of the embezzlement hanging over him, but also that of the identity of the man murdered in Wellington-terrace. Mr Noak has established that the bill cashed in Riga had passed through the hands of a notary in Brussels, a man you do business with.'
'So do many others, no doubt. And what advantage do I derive from this ludicrous arrangement?'
'You, sir?' I said. 'Why, you have a share of his profits, do you not, and the opportunity to enjoy Mr Frant's wife.'
Carswall's colour, already dark, deepened still further. He studied the face of his watch, his chest heaving up and down. 'I have rarely heard anything so nonsensical,' he said at last.
'It has the merit of explaining why the four of us are together in this room.'
Iversen coughed, reminding Carswall of his presence.
Carswall swivelled towards him and pointed at Mary Ann. 'Give the drab a taste of her medicine.'
'To what end, sir?' Iversen asked. 'It seems to me the young gentleman is chatty enough as it is.'
'What's it to you?'
'The girl's a servant of mine, sir, and wonderfully discreet on account of her affliction. If I crush her hands, she'll be no good to man nor beast.'
I said – at random; urgent to distract Carswall from his purpose: 'There is another question that Mr Noak would give a great deal to have answered.'
'Eh?' Carswall pressed the repeater button on his watch, which emitted a minute ping. 'The man is a fool: what profit does his infernal Yankee meddling bring him?'
'He wishes to know whether you realise what a laughing-stock you make of yourself when you pursue that canting hypocrite of a baronet with your bastard daughter and your ill-gotten money. Whether you know how the world sneers at you for your desire to ape the gentry. Whether you will die of natural causes, sir, or go to the gallows as you so richly deserve.'
My voice rose as I spoke, as the passion welled up from a hidden recess in my being. Noak had not asked these questions: but I did, for now there was nothing to lose that was not already lost. After I had finished, a moment of complete silence descended on the frowzy room. Iversen was watching Carswall, and on his face was an expression of detachment, almost amusement. Blotches of angry pallor appeared in the old man's cheeks. I heard, quite distinctly, another tiny chime from his Breguet watch.
With a great bellow, he rose from the settle.
'You rascal! You knave! You God-damned scrub!'
'You must know that Mrs Frant hates and despises you,' I said softly. 'I wonder at the strength of your desire to possess her. Is it because she was the wife of Henry Frant? Did you hate him so very much? Did he make you feel he was your master? Yes, sir, your
Carswall shook his fist at me, the one with the watch in it. 'I shall see you suffer, I assure you. You there!' He addressed Iversen now. 'Hold his hand in the door, damn you. I shall break every bone in his body. I shall – I shall-'
He broke off as a great surge of passion ran like electricity through his body, making him vibrate, and jerk, and twist like a sheet in the hands of a laundry maid. His mouth opened but no sound emerged. He stared fixedly at me but there was no longer any anger in his eyes: his face was puzzled, confused, even imploring. Then he gasped, as if he felt an unexpected pinprick. His left leg gave way and he fell into the hearth, bringing down a set of fire irons in his fall with a rattle like grapeshot.
I struggled to my feet, my eyes still on the stricken man.
Iversen screamed.
I turned sharply towards the sound, almost overbalancing. As I did so, I heard a clatter. The pistol had fallen to the floor. By a miracle it had not discharged itself and was still cocked. Now silent, Iversen bent over Mary Ann and pummelled her with hands balled into fists and then wrapped his arms round her waist.
I fell to the floor, rolled and scooped up the pistol in my bound hands. Iversen threw Mary Ann across the room. She tripped over Carswall's legs and sprawled on the bare boards, giving a great cry as her back, still raw from the flogging, collided with the leg of a chair. I wrapped my hands round the pistol's butt. My finger found the trigger. Wrenching my left arm almost out of its socket, I arched my back and rested the pistol on my right hip. The muzzle pointed at Iversen.
'Stand back,' I commanded. 'Raise your hands in the air and move towards the corner.'
