Charlotte looked imploringly at Robert. He said to her, “What have you told them already?”
“Nothing. I could not. I am not sure what to say, or what we want.”
“What we want,” Robert replied with a certain amount of venom, “is freedom from this sword of Damocles that threatens to plummet down on our very heads at any moment!”
“Good heavens,” said Adelia in mild alarm. She knew that Robert Lassiter was a good, decent man and she was friendly in a social way with his parents. But she had not spent much time with him on a more intimate footing and consequently she did not know whether he was being overly dramatic, or if they really were in serious danger – well, not from falling swords, but something similar. She’d heard rumours that he was quick to anger, but consequently quick to forgive, too. She watched him carefully.
Charlotte patted Robert’s hand. “It’s not quite so bad,” she said, nervously, soothing him. He jerked his hand, shrugging her off, and then immediately grabbed for her hand again and dipped his head in apology to her.
Adelia said, “Last night, you implied that you had made a terrible mistake. And it doesn’t take a detective to know it is to do with Mr Digby Nettles. Am I correct?”
“Yes! Oh, mama, that man!” Charlotte shook her head and sigh. “Robert, do tell them.”
He clenched his fist though Charlotte kept her hand on his. He said, “Mr Nettles is a fraud, you know. Oh, he makes my blood boil!”
“A fraud? However do you mean?”
“I don’t mean that he isn’t an art dealer. He is. He imports paintings from abroad, he sells them and he buys them, he supports up and coming artists, he is known by everyone in the art world. And he’s one of those men that if you have a particular interest in this painting or that one, he’ll obtain it for you – by whatever means is necessary and not all of them are legal.”
Adelia sighed. “You know that I am from a similar background, don’t you? I grew up heavily involved with the family business. We had a large gallery in London and we dealt with all the very best people in the town. Rumours always tend to fly around such ventures; it is inevitable, due to misunderstandings and jealousy. We were tarred with similar ones ourselves, from time to time. But it’s far more likely to be nothing at all sinister – just the result of good connections and plenty of money. Anything can be bought, if you offer enough money. I am not saying that there isn’t corruption – there is, of course there is. But usually it’s just greed.”
“There is more to it than that,” Robert insisted, his voice rising. “I would agree that most of his business is totally legitimate. Of the ten hours in a working day, I am sure that nine and a half of them are perfectly legal and above board. But you met him, sir, did you not?” He turned to Theodore. “You could see what an arrogant, smug sort of man he is.”
Adelia shook her head. “Arrogance and smugness are not crimes. Tell us plainly. What has he done to you?”
Again, another look passed between Robert and Charlotte. She smiled awkwardly at him, but he remained angry. “Not all of the paintings that he sells are real. He passes fakes off as the real thing. Quite what he does with the originals, we do not know.”
“What evidence do you have for this?”
“Nothing really. Hearsay. Feelings. Rumours. Things we have seen and heard, things we know but cannot prove.” Robert gritted his teeth. Charlotte rubbed his hand like she was easing a colicky baby.
“This is all dreadfully immoral and I am shocked if it is true,” Adelia said. “Well, no, I am not shocked but certainly mildly surprised, perhaps. But how does this involve you? Has he somehow duped you? Is that what this is about?”
Theodore said, “Do you need us to go and get your money back? I am sorry, but that might just be something you have to chalk up to experience. Move on. If he fooled you, then he fooled you. Say no more about it. Don’t allow yourself to be fooled twice.”
“We weren’t fools...” Charlotte said, looking anxiously at Robert.
But Robert was shaking his head. “We were. But he didn’t just fool me. He ... involved me. We didn’t realise what we were agreeing to. Not in the actual – the theft – or whatever happened – of course! Not even he gets his hands dirty like that. But we could be ... I mean, the evidence ... I am not even sure what he could do to us, but I don’t like it.” Robert sat up straight, pulling his hand free from Charlotte’s grasp. He punched his own thigh hard and Adelia winced. “So, he must be stopped! He tells me that we are complicit now, that we owe him. We owe him nothing, sir! Nothing! But if we go to the police, they will look at us, and ask – what did we do? What did we know? And I know the reputation we both have. You know what they will say about me, this young, dissolute gadabout, the idle heir to the Earl of Mareham, pointlessly frittering money away. At best, we won’t be believed. At worst, they’ll take us down along with Nettles.”
Charlotte interrupted his bubbling fury. “But Mr Nettles won’t be taken down at all! That’s the thing. He’s threatened us. He says we must keep this to ourselves and do what he tells us to do, or we’ll lose everything but he’ll walk free because nothing ever sticks to him. He knows too many secrets and too many powerful people. He’s protected and we’re expendable.”
It was time for Adelia to give Theodore a meaningful look, just as Charlotte and Robert had been doing. With exasperation consuming her, Adelia said,
