The Claimant's meaty right hand enveloped the doctor's and shook it.
“So much for reserving judgement!” Swinburne whispered to Burton. “Although he might be right. Maybe this isn't an imposter at all!”
Burton gazed at his assistant in astonishment.
Hawkins shook his head, as if to clear it. He turned to Jankyn.
“You don't mean to suggest that you also recognise this-this-?”
“Why, of course I do!” Jankyn cried. “This is young Sir Roger!”
“It is-good to see you-Mr-Mr-?” the creature rumbled.
“Doctor Jankyn!” the physician supplied.
“Yes,” came the reply. “I remember you.”
Hawkins threw up his hands in exasperation and looked across at Burton, who shrugged noncommittally.
“And who might you gentlemen be, may I ask?” Kenealy enquired, in his brusque, belligerent manner.
“I am Henry Hawkins, acting on behalf of the relatives,” the lawyer snapped, bristling.
“Ah ha! Then advise them to not oppose my client, sir! He has come to take possession of what's rightfully his and I mean to see that he gets it!”
“I think it best we save discussions of that nature for the courtroom, sir,” Hawkins responded coldly. “For now, I'll restrict myself to that which courtesy demands and introduce Sir Richard Francis Burton, Mr. Algernon Swinburne, and Detective Inspector William Trounce of Scotland Yard.”
“And, pray, why are they here?”
Trounce stepped forward and, in his most officious tone, said, “I am here, sir, to investigate the murder of Sir Alfred Tichborne, and I advise you not to interfere with my duties.”
“I have no intention of interfering. Murder, is it? When did this occur? And how?”
Trounce shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Last night. He fell from a window under mysterious circumstances.”
“My-brother?” the Claimant uttered.
“That is correct, Sir Roger,” said Kenealy, turning to the monstrous figure. “May I be the first to offer my condolences?”
“Yes,” the Claimant grunted, meaninglessly.
Kenealy looked back at Trounce. “Why murder? Why not an accident or suicide?”
“The matter is under investigation. I'll not be drawn on it until I have gathered and examined the evidence.”
“Very well. And you, Sir Richard-is there a reason for your presence?”
Burton glowered at the lawyer and said, slowly and clearly, “I don't think I like your tone, sir.”
“Then I apologise,” Kenealy said, sounding not one whit apologetic. “I remind you, however, that I'm acting on behalf of Sir Roger Tichborne, in whose house you currently stand.”
Henry Hawkins interrupted: “That remains to be seen, Kenealy. And for your information, Sir Richard and Mr. Swinburne are here as guests of Colonel Lushington and at the behest of the Doughty and Arundell families, who have a stake in this property and whose identities are beyond question.”
“Do you mean to imply that my client's identity is in question?” Kenealy growled.
“I absolutely do,” Hawkins answered. “And I intend to have him prosecuted. It is blatantly obvious that this individual is an imposter!”
Doctor Jankyn stepped forward, shaking his head. “No, Mr. Hawkins,” he said. “You're wrong. This is Sir Roger. I couldn't mistake him. I knew him for the first two decades of his life.”
Hawkins rounded on the physician. “I don't know what you're playing at, sir, but if I find that you're a willing participant in this conspiracy, I'll see you behind bars!”
“The doctor and the butler have both acknowledged my client's identity,” Kenealy snapped, “as has Colonel Lushington-”
“I dispute that!” said Hawkins. “The colonel made a slip of the tongue while feeling unwell, that's all.”
“Be that as it may, two individuals who were in the service of the family before Sir Roger sailed for South America have confirmed that this man is who he says he is. Need I remind you that he was also recognised by his own mother?”
“Motherrrrr-” the Claimant moaned, gazing blankly at Hawkins.
“Those present who oppose my client never even knew Sir Roger,” Kenealy continued. “It doesn't take a court of law to see where the power lies, does it?”
“By God! What kind of lawyer are you?” Hawkins cried.
“Mr. Hawkins,” Kenealy snarled, “there is a certain degree of decorum demanded by the bar which, once we oppose each other before a judge, will prevent me from saying that which I now wish to say: to wit, shut your damned mouth, sir! You are in no position to criticise and in hardly any state to oppose. I will, against my better judgement, allow you and Colonel Lushington to remain in this house as my client's guests until such a time as the law deems your presence here indefensible. I will then throw you out, and if I have to put my boot to the seat of your pants, then I most certainly shall do so. In the meantime, Detective Inspector Trounce is welcome to stay here until his investigation is done. As for you two-” he turned to Burton and Swinburne “-you can depart forthwith. Your presence is neither required nor desired.”
“Kenealy!” Hawkins yelled. “How dare you! This is an absolute outrage!”
“I am the prosecuting lawyer, Hawkins!” Kenealy roared, his face turning purple and the veins pulsing on his forehead. “I'm well aware that you intend to countersue, but you haven't filed the case yet, and until you do, there's not a damned thing you can do to oppose my client's wishes-and his wishes, at this moment, are that Burton and Swinburne get the hell off his estate!”
Hawkins opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by Burton: “It's quite all right, Mr. Hawkins. We'll leave. We don't want to contribute to what is obviously already a tense situation.”
“Yaaas,” the Claimant drawled. “Go now.”
Without another word, Burton took Swinburne by the arm and steered him out of the room.
“Sir Richard!” Hawkins called as the two men crossed the threshold. Burton looked back, met the lawyer's eyes, and gave a slight shake of his head.
As they climbed the stairs to their rooms, Swinburne said: “Well, that's that. I'd say our job here is done.”
“You really think we just met the real Sir Roger?” Burton asked.
“Don't you?”
“Absolutely not!”
“Really? What on earth is there to be suspicious about?”
“Are you serious, Algy?”
“Yes.”
“You don't think it odd that Sir Roger was five foot eight at most, and very slim, whereas the Claimant is pushing seven foot tall and is probably the most obese individual I've ever set eyes on?”
“I suppose life in Australia can change a man, Richard. Anyway, there's no reason for us to stay, is there? Shall we return to London?”
“In due course.”
Thirty minutes later, as Burton was packing his portmanteau, Trounce knocked at his bedroom door, entered, and cried: “What the devil are you playing at? Why are you scarpering?”
“We're not. Algy and I are going to get rooms at the Dick Whittington Inn in Alresford,” the king's agent replied. “And you? How long do you expect to stay?”
Trounce blew out a breath. “Phew! What can I do? How does a man go about investigating ghosts? No, Captain, I'll return to the Yard this evening and we'll see what Commissioner Mayne has to say about the whole sorry business.”
“In that case, would you do me a favour and get a message to Herbert Spencer? I need him to let us back into the house and into the pantry. One way or another, we have to find our way through that secret door. I'm convinced the diamond is beyond it and I want to get to it before the ghost does. Tell him to meet Algy and me by the lake at three in the morning.”
