possession of normal appetites realized they might be having pap forced down their throats for days, if not weeks. Eventually they decided on a march, in their best coats and hats, to the Maidenhead police station to hand in a letter of protest about their treatment. Even then, taking note of the frail condition of many of the silkmen, they resolved to travel most of the way by bus.
Lord Francis Powerscourt was staring moodily at the fire in his drawing room on a Sunday afternoon in Markham Square.
‘I wish I’d never taken on this case, Lucy. I’ve never had one that spanned three different locations before. I can’t seem to get a grip on it.’
‘Do you still think they’re all the work of one man? And that the mysterious mark on the dead men’s chests is the key to the whole thing?’
‘Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum, fifteen men on a dead man’s chest,’ said Powerscourt with a smile. ‘I do think that, Lucy, yes I do. I doubt if any of the three Inspectors believe me any more on that point, mind you. Inspector Grime is very excited about the sons of that Mrs Lewis who Roderick Gill was going to marry. It seems they both lied to him about where they were on the evening before the murder. He’s writing to all the theatrical costumiers he can find to see if any of them hired a big black beard at that time.’
‘Are you going to come to Fakenham with me tonight? I’ve got to be teaching again in the morning. This is my last week.’
‘I shall come up with you this evening, Lucy, and return the next day or so. Your work up there in the school has been invaluable, my love. Who knows, maybe you’ll turn up even more information. I’m going to have a meeting with all three of those policemen here early next week. The Three Inspectors, it could be a pub, Lucy, coppers lurking everywhere to make sure there’s no drunk and disorderly behaviour.’
‘You’re not going to forget next weekend, are you, Francis?’
‘What’s happening next weekend?’
Lady Lucy pointed at an embossed card on the mantelpiece above the fire. ‘Why, it’s Queen Charlotte’s Ball, Francis. I’m so looking forward to it.’
Powerscourt made a face.
‘Now, now, Francis, you always complain about these things but you enjoy them once you’re actually there. I remember distinctly you saying in the taxi home the last time we went to a ball, years ago now it must have been, how much you enjoyed the dancing.’
Inspector Miles Devereux thought there was only about a week to go before the results of the Silkworkers’ vote were declared. The only thread he could see between all three murders was this strange election in the Silkworkers Company. As he made his way towards the Secretary’s quarters on the first floor, he wondered if he would find a lawyer there, as he had on his previous visit.
Anthony Buckeridge of Buckeridge, Johnston and Forsyte was indeed in attendance. He managed what might have been a smile at the policeman as he walked in.
‘Good morning, Colonel, Mr Buckeridge,’ said Devereux. ‘I was wondering if the votes were all in, if the result is known now, that sort of thing.’
‘Things are proceeding according to plan,’ said Colonel Horrocks, the Secretary to the Silkworkers. ‘There are still six working days to go before the ballot is closed.’
‘But do you know how many votes have been cast and in which direction?’ Devereux persisted.
‘We do,’ the colonel replied. Devereux thought the men were much more relaxed than they had been on the previous occasion.
‘I think you’ll find that your interest in this matter will close very soon,’ said Buckeridge.
‘I don’t follow you,’ said the Inspector. ‘You sound to me as if you know who has won already.’
The two men looked at each other. ‘It would be premature to declare that we already know the result,’ said Horrocks. ‘However, we would be failing in our duty to act as responsible citizens and give all the assistance we ought to the officers of the law if we did not say that it is virtually certain that Sir Peregrine’s proposals, for which he has campaigned so hard and so long, are likely to prevail.’
Damn it, Devereux said to himself, the old bastard has won. The only question is, did he commit murder to get his way? ‘You’re sure of that, Colonel? Sir Peregrine is going to get the eighty per cent he needs?’
Horrocks placed a set of papers in front of him. ‘There is still a possibility that the no campaigners could triumph. But the voting patterns that we have seen from everywhere else would have to go into reverse on the final votes. It looks most improbable.’
Inspector Devereux was thinking of the bribes offered to the old men of the Jesus Hospital. ‘Have the old men of Marlow voted yet? Have their papers come in?’
‘I’m afraid that the details of individual votes are not available to the public, even to the police,’ said Buckeridge, reverting to pompous mode. ‘Nobody asks you, Inspector, how you voted in the last general election and I hope that in this country they never will.’
‘I see,’ said Devereux. ‘It’s just that it would save a certain amount of police work and public expense if we knew if the almshouse had voted or not. You would be doing us a favour.’
Once more the two men exchanged glances. ‘Oh, very well, I don’t think it can do any harm. The silkmen of the Jesus Hospital have cast their votes. It may interest you to know that they voted in favour of Sir Peregrine’s proposals. Every single one of them. As yet we have no figures from Allison’s School.’
Bribery, Inspector Devereux said to himself, bribery could get you everywhere. He realized suddenly that it was too soon to ask the other important question. If the votes of Allison’s School were also in favour, had those two institutions pushed Sir Peregrine’s proposals over the eighty per cent threshold? In other words, if they had voted the other way, would the plans have been defeated?
Powerscourt found Inspector Grime active on many fronts. He was still pursuing Blackbeard round the railway stations of northern Norfolk. He had launched additional inquiries, asking if either of the two Lewis brothers, age, height, general characteristics, had been seen in the Fakenham area at the time of the murder. He was awaiting replies from theatrical costumiers in Norwich, Cambridge and London as to whether they, or anybody else they knew, had hired out a black beard at any time in the last six weeks, and if they had a name and address for the customer. He had been in touch with the high commissioners and senior representatives of Australia, Canada, New Zealand and South Africa, asking them to send him a man of their country who could speak with a pronounced accent. The man would need to be in his thirties. Inspector Grime explained that they would be assisting in a murder inquiry at a leading public school in Norfolk. Two of their number, the New Zealander and the Canadian, had already reported for duty. Grime arranged for them to be wearing postal uniform and to walk up the same corridor as the murderer on the day of Roderick Gill’s death. They were to bump into David Lewis and apologize as their predecessor had done before, using exactly the same words. After that they were to bump into other boys and apologize in case that brought forgotten memories to the surface. Neither of the two colonials on duty so far had brought any response from the pupils. The Inspector had taken the New Zealander and the Canadian into his OTC office afterwards to talk to David Lewis but the boy had been definite that theirs was not the accent he had heard on the fateful day.
An elderly sergeant came into the Inspector’s office. ‘Forgive the interruption, Lord Powerscourt, Inspector, this has just come back from Melton Constable. A local man who has been away for a fortnight visiting his sick mother says he saw Sir Peregrine’s car, or one very like it, in Melton Constable outside Sir Peregrine’s house on the day of the murder, sir. He says he’s seen the car before with Sir Peregrine in it, so he’s fairly sure he’s right.’
‘God in heaven, Sergeant, this is dramatic news.’ Inspector Grime was pounding his fist into his other hand as he strode up and down his office. ‘This could change everything. Tell them over in Melton Constable to bring the man in and hold him till I get over there. Do you want to come with me, Powerscourt?’
‘Thank you for the invitation, Inspector. I think I am going to call on somebody else. If you think about Sir Peregrine’s activities, a lot of them have been concerned with the votes in this affair of the Silkworkers. I wonder if he popped up here to have a word with the bursar. And I doubt very much if he would have seen the bursar on his own. I’m going to call on the headmaster, Inspector, if that’s all right with you.’
‘That’s fine by me,’ Inspector Grime replied. ‘I say, Powerscourt, do you think Sir Peregrine brought that girl with him, Francesca, wasn’t that her name? I’ve never met a masseuse before.’
The headmaster was in a meeting about the cost of repairing the cricket pavilion when Powerscourt arrived.
‘My dear Lord Powerscourt,’ he said, ushering him to a chair, ‘how good to see you again. And let me say how
