Clouds among the Stars. Victoria Clayton

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СКАЧАТЬ of the élan that characterised his bearing. His face was grey and puffy.

      ‘Pa, darling.’ Cordelia went towards him, her arms held wide. ‘You look just like Sydney Carton.’ Several times during the journey I had regretted allowing Cordelia to come, afraid that it was too harrowing an experience for a child. Now I saw that the theatricality of her nature was just what was needed. Except for the ponytail Pa did not look in the least like Sydney Carton, but it was a happy thought and his face brightened. Cordelia took his hand, assumed a frightened expression and a French accent. ‘Citizen Évremonde, will you let me ’old your ’and? I am but a poor, leetle creature and it will give me ze courage.’ Then she looked at him and did a dramatic double take. ‘Sacrebleu! Zoot, alors! Do you die for ’im?’

      ‘And his wife and child. Hush! Yes.’

      ‘Oh, you will let me ’old your ’and, oh brave, brave stranger?’

      ‘Hush! Yes, my poor child. To the last.’

      ‘Am I to keess you now? Is ze moment come?’

      ‘Yes. God bless you! Very soon we shall meet again in a better place than this. Go ahead of me. I shall follow swiftly.’

      Sydney Carton took the little seamstress, alias Cordelia, in his arms and kissed her. Then she kneeled and extended her neck, her arms thrust out behind her with a professionalism acquired from the many films about Anne Boleyn, Lady Jane Grey and Mary, Queen of Scots she had sobbed through at the Hippodrome, Blackheath.

      My father kneeled in his turn and lifted his eyes to a vision of the future. ‘I see the lives for which I lay down my life, peaceful, prosperous and happy in that England which I shall see no more. I see her with a child upon her bosom that shall bear my name. I see that I hold a sanctuary in their hearts and in the hearts of their descendants, generations hence. I see that child who bears my name, a man. My name is made illustrious there by the light of him. I see the blots I threw on it faded away.’ He closed his eyes and his face became radiant. ‘It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done. It is a far, far better rest that I go to, than I have ever known.’ He allowed his head to drop slowly forward.

      I felt my throat tighten. I can’t ever read about Sydney Carton going to the guillotine without crying, and my father managed to get into his voice all the triumph and despair of that moment. He was, without doubt, truly a great actor. After he and Cordelia had embraced passionately I kissed his cheek more diffidently. I wished I was less inhibited. It wasn’t because I was more truthful, far from it. I was the only one of my family who was no good at acting and if I felt self-conscious there was nothing I could do to hide it.

      We brought my father up to date on the condition of the family. I would have avoided any mention of Ronald Mason but Cordelia, to her credit, was not sophistical and blurted it out. Luckily my father was inclined to be condescending rather than jealous.

      ‘Poor Ronnie. It is loyal of the old war horse to muster to the sound of trumpets. You may not remember, Inspector, the only Bonnie Prince Charlie with a strong Irish brogue. Every housewife from Sunderland to Wimbledon longed to be Flora Macdonald nestling in Prince Charlie’s manly arms, crooning love songs into his lace jabot, crossing the sea to Skye against a purple sunset. The truth was less romantic. Apparently it was filmed in the studio pool with a wave machine but even so, poor Ronnie was sick as a dog.’

      There is nothing so effective in the short-term as sneering at someone else to make one feel better about oneself. Pa seemed to recover his spirits a little.

      Inspector Foy smiled. ‘I remember he was a great favourite with my mother. ‘Now, sir, one or two more questions, if you don’t mind. I understand from Mr Sickert-Greene that you want to appeal against committal and change your plea to not guilty.’

      ‘Of course I didn’t do it! No one but a simpleton could imagine that I, Waldo Byng, am capable of murder! Sickert-Greene made a hopeless mull of it in court this morning. What on earth made him plead guilty but insane? Do I look crazy?’ Pa inflated his chest and narrowed his nostrils, as though indignation and insanity were mutually incompatible. ‘He actually believes I did it! I can’t think why I go on employing that silly old fool.’

      The reason was because old Sickly Grin was a fearful intellectual snob. No ancient rabbi daring to pronounce the forbidden name of Yahweh could have looked more awe-stricken than Sickly Grin when he uttered the sacred moniker of Shakespeare. His voice dropped along with his several chins and even his knees appeared to bend in their Savile Row trousers. He was prepared to look after my father’s interests for practically nothing so he could boast of his intimacy with Waldo Byng, the great Shakespearean actor.

      ‘Mm.’ The inspector got out his pipe and stroked the bowl tenderly. He had nice square, strong-looking hands. ‘If I may say so, sir, I think it was a mistake to tell the chief magistrate that he was as guilty as you were of the murder.’

      My father laughed bitterly. ‘The fellow’s a philistine. When I gave him the speech from Measure for Measure where Isabella pleads for Claudio’s life, he went as red as fire and started to gobble.’ My father began to recite. ‘“Man, proud man, Dressed in a little brief authority, Most ignorant of what he’s most assured, His glassy essence, like an angry ape, Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven, As makes the angels weep.”’

      ‘It was the angry ape that annoyed him, I think.’ The inspector’s expression was reproachful and I believed, then, that he wanted my father not to be guilty. Pa looked sulky and folded his arms across his chest. ‘Well.’ The inspector seemed to have packed his pipe with tobacco to his apparent satisfaction. ‘It’s too late to worry about that. Let’s look again at the question of motive. Who might have wanted Sir Basil dead? The most common motive for homicide is sexual jealousy.’ He sucked wistfully at his unlit pipe but my father was unmoved. ‘Somebody discovers his or her other half’s been unfaithful and there’s a violent reaction. The killing’s unpremeditated. Those cases are relatively straightforward. Sir Basil’s housekeeper says he rarely went out and had no close friendships with either sex, as far as she knows. We can’t exclude sexual jealousy entirely but at the moment it seems unlikely. Having looked at Sir Basil’s will, I’m sure it wasn’t money.’ Inspector Foy stopped, looked at his pipe with something like disgust and thrust it into his pocket. ‘Let’s consider more complex motives – killings intended to protect some discreditable secret, for example. Blackmailers get bumped off because their victim can’t or won’t go on paying out. Since the legalisation of homosexuality, this sort of crime is on the decline. Was Sir Basil the kind of man who might hold other men to account for their sins or indulge in a little gentle blackmail?’

      ‘I should say there was no man less likely to do such a thing.’ Pa looked amused at the idea. ‘He wasn’t interested in other people. He was much too self-absorbed. But you could say that of most actors.’ It was evident that Pa considered himself an exception.

      Inspector Foy selected a pencil from the pen tray on the table, took a penknife from his pocket and began to make a fine point. Balked of his pipe, he needed another focus for his attention. I wondered whether this was a ploy to soothe the nerves of his suspects and distract them into making damning confessions. I dismissed at once the idea that he might be jittery himself. The inspector was almost monumentally calm as he smiled at Cordelia, then at me. The situation seemed quite unreal. We might have been discussing the plot of a film.

      ‘So we’re left with a mixed bag of motives – let’s call it personal animosity. This includes everything from disputes between neighbours rowing over the height of a hedge to professional jealousy.’

      Pa looked scornful. ‘I can assure you that Basil’s small talents were insufficient СКАЧАТЬ