The Arnifour Affair (26 page)

“The common masses?” One of Colin's eyebrows arched up. “Does Victoria encourage her Guard to look down on the very people God has granted her the authority to rule?”

“Mr. Pendragon . . . ,” he started to say, only to fall silent. The ticking of the small clock on the major's credenza was the only sound to be heard for several seconds until Colin began to coax the coin between his fingers again. I started to wonder if we weren't about to be dismissed, but I had miscalculated the major. Quite suddenly, without the slightest hint that it was coming, he abruptly let out a bellowing laugh. “You are toying with me, Mr. Pendragon. You mean to prod me into a rise and you almost succeeded. But I shall not be so easily dissuaded.” He leaned forward. “I'd bet you would like to see the Bellingham flat for yourself. There is much the newspapers have not reported. Much they do not know.”

A cool smirk overtook Colin's face. “And now you are toying with me.”

“So I am.” He leaned back in his chair with a satisfied smile. “You must understand my position, Mr. Pendragon. Anything concerning the Queen's Guard inevitably implicates our sovereign as well. And I'm sure I needn't remind you that Her Majesty is seventy-seven and in failing health.”

“That woman is as delicate as a plow horse,” he shot back. “And I find it hard to believe she has any but the most passing familiarity concerning the murder of one of her guardsmen with whom she probably never once spoke. I believe you are trying to hide behind her skirts, Major.”

“Do you presume to be privy to what goes on in Her Majesty's household?”

“My father transferred John Brown from Victoria's stable to her personal duty after Albert's death, so I would say I know a bit more about Her Majesty's household than you think. What I don't understand is why you want to bring me here to feed nonsense to the press? I don't control those men.”

“You underestimate yourself, Mr. Pendragon. They hang on your words like they are spun from gold.” A cloying smile clung to his lips. “If you were to release a statement that you had conducted an investigation and determined the case to be closed, say a burglary gone bad, or a case of mistaken identity, why, they would be only too happy to embrace your conclusion and return their attentions to the horses at Ascot and which lady is wearing what. Everyone would be satisfied, which would allow me and my men to handle this case with the delicacy Captain Bellingham and his wife deserve.”

“And the perpetrator?”

“I will personally see to it that their murderer receives the full wrath of the law.”

Colin sat up and neatly tipped the crown back into his vest pocket. “And what makes you think these murders will be so easily dispatched? Murder is a complex business in the simplest of cases. . . .”

“I said I will take care of it,” the major restated with noticeably greater force. “And I could use your help with Scotland Yard. I've got them circling like schoolyard boys, on top of which the
Times
is calling the Guard's reputation into question, and the public is terrified for their safety. Until we can release a conclusive statement, Mr. Pendragon, this discord will be relentless.”

Colin stood up. “I'm sorry, Major. You seem to have gotten the notion that my integrity can be bargained for. If I have earned the respect of the press it is because I do not spin fables and, in spite of your desire for discretion, cannot see why I should start now. If you would like to hire me to solve this case I will gladly do so, but until you come to your senses I will bid you good day.” He turned for the door.

“Mr. Pendragon!” The major sounded perplexed as I got up to follow.
“Mr. Pendragon!”
he howled as we reached the door. “With all due respect to your esteemed integrity, the public wants immediate answers to their fears. They want the world to return to the status quo. They will not tolerate remaining under a veil of anxiety. You can blame the unsolved Ripper murders for that. And
that's
why there are men like you and me. To ensure that our republic gets what it needs. Now I am beseeching you, Mr. Pendragon, to offer the public a reasoned solution to a horrible crime so that they can get on with the mundanity of their lives. Where is the harm in that?”

“If that's what you're after, Major, then I would suggest you get the Yard to be your mouthpiece. Inspector Varcoe is always good for hot air.”

“Nobody wants to hear from that blasted lout. You
will
do this for me, Mr. Pendragon. You are the only man with the reputation for it and I
will
insist.”

“Insist?” Colin chuckled. “Are you proposing sticking a hand up my bum to move my lips?”

“You will be handsomely compensated. Now how can I convince you to perform this service for the Crown?”

Colin pursed his lips and I could tell he had already thought of something. “There is one way I can conceive . . . ,” he said casually, “. . . and it is the
only
way I would consider it. . . .” He let a moment pass to emphasize his determination. “You must announce to the press that you have retained my services to solve the murders of the captain and his wife. . . .”

“Yes?”

“And then give me the next three days to do so. During those three days you must ensure I have the full cooperation of this regiment as well as access to whomever I want.”

“Not Her Majesty or her family.”

“I should hardly think that will be necessary.”

“And at the end of the three days?”

“I will deliver the truth of the case to you.”

“And if you cannot?”

“I will.” He smiled harshly, even as my stomach clutched at the very idea. I couldn't fathom how he had come up with the notion of three days.

Major Hampstead frowned. “Absolute proof, Mr. Pendragon. You must bring me absolute proof of whatever supposition you're championing or I shall have your word that you will face that mob of newsmen and sell them whatever I deem appropriate.”

He gave no more than an ambivalent nod.

“Three days then.” The major glanced back at his clock. “That would be twelve o'clock on Friday.” He turned back to us. “I shall give you until seventeen hundred. Plenty of time for the newsmen to make their Saturday morning edition.”

“Most generous,” Colin muttered.

“Sir?” The young man opened the door so quickly I knew he had to have been hovering nearby.

“Alert the newspapermen that Her Majesty's Life Guard has retained the services of Colin Pendragon to bring a swift and just conclusion to the tragic murders of Captain and Mrs. Bellingham. And let them know that Mr. Pendragon will have an announcement to make at seventeen hundred hours this very Friday.”

“This Friday, sir?”

“Yes, Corporal.
This
Friday.”

And with that the young man was gone, though I did notice he left the door ajar.

“I will solve this crime, Major Hampstead,” Colin said with the simplicity of one discussing the weather. “I shall bring you the resolution Friday and we will see what gets delivered to the press.”

“I admire a man of confidence,” the major replied with a tense grin. “But listen very carefully, Mr. Pendragon, because if, at the end of your three days, you should find yourself stymied by this case, then I
alone
will decide what is told to those newsmen. You will say what I decide and you will walk away. Are we clear?”

Colin flashed an equally rigid smile. “You have been most clear, Major. And now I should indeed like an escort to the Bellingham flat so I may get started. Someone from Captain Bellingham's regiment would be my preference.”

“Sergeant McReedy will take you. He reported to the captain.” Major Hampstead's smile relaxed and I couldn't help but feel it was with the arrogance that comes when one perceives imminent success.