Humming a jaunty air from Cosi Fan Tutti, Rippon casually took Kingstone’s wrist and began to check his pulse. The routine, authoritative gesture seemed to calm Kingstone a little. “Fine,” he said. “Racing just a little. One quite sees why!” He pulled down a lower eyelid, peered at the colour and nodded approval. “Well—I’d say you were a man in the pink of health and the prime of life, Mr. Kingstone. Yes?”
Kingstone nodded dumbly.
Rippon hummed another bar, then cracked open Kingstone’s starched collar and removed it, along with his tie. “The window, Sandilands, if you wouldn’t mind. Your friend needs some air. These fumes can be very debilitating if you’re not used to them.” He turned back to address Kingstone. “I’d further guess—a man of physical action? A soldier?”
Kingstone nodded again and breathed deeply the waft of London air that gushed into the room.
“That’s a nasty wound I see you keep under your collar. Or was, when delivered. It’s healed well. Bayonet rather than bullet?”
Kingstone confirmed his guess.
“In that position on the neck, oh, dear! I must be the hundredth person to tell you—a lucky escape. Half an inch either way and curtains, Kingstone. So, I reckon if I came at you with a weapon of some sort, you’d know what to do?”
“You bet.”
“I’ll be circumspect when flourishing my scalpel in your presence,” the doctor said lightly. “I know I’d get an instant and very physical response and possibly feature at the top of Sandilands’ to-do list.”
Joe thought he could guess where the doctor was going with all this chatter but even he was surprised by the next question.
“Have you got a coin in your pocket? Give it to me. A penny will do the trick.”
The senator fished about in his pocket, pulled out a half crown and handed it, bemused, to Rippon.
“Good. If I accept this—and I do—you are officially employing me. You’ve hired my professional services at the cost to you of half a crown so I’m entitled to give you my physician’s opinion on your case. Agreed?”
“Guess so.”
“As it seems to be the fashion to quote Shakespeare, let me remind you of a few lines I’m particularly fond of from The Winter’s Tale.”
The groan was nearly audible. They’d all had enough Shakespeare. Rippon tuned in to the dismay at once and threw out a hook to regain their attention: “The spider? Do you know the bit about the spider?”
No one admitted to knowing about the spider, so he carried on. “Anyone here suffer from arachnophobia? Glad to hear that you don’t. Well, my mother did. A rather bad case. I’m afraid to say my brothers and I were your usual selection of naughty prank-loving boys with no fear at all of spiders. Nuff said! Until the day I was made to read this piece at school. I so well understood my mother’s condition, I banned any further reference to the creatures in her presence. And I assiduously cleared any of the little creatures from her bathroom without a word.” He paused and then grinned. “When was he alive and writing, our Bard? Early sixteen hundreds? Astonishing—his psychological insights into the human psyche! Just astonishing! Freud is rarely so acute and never as readable. Listen:
There may be in the cup
A spider steeped, and one may drink, depart,
And yet partake no venom, for his knowledge
Is not infected; but if one present
The abhorred ingredient to his eye, make known
How he hath drunk, he cracks his gorge, his sides,
With violent hefts. I have drunk, and seen the spider.”
His rich baritone rolled away and he left them a pause, to take his point and shudder at the last sentence. “That’s your problem, Mr. Kingstone. Expressed in half a line. You have drunk and seen the spider. Because it’s very cunningly been put into the cup and then pointed out to you. Your knowledge has been infected. You are cracking your gorge—feeling sick in your gut, but also in your mind, because you have seen the loathed creature and fear—no, are convinced—that you have drunk a poisoned liquor. A healthy mind in a healthy body … we’re all familiar with the phrase but it’s the opposite that is more likely to present itself to me and my colleagues. An unhealthy mind, a wounded, fearful mind risks bringing the body down with it. Do you understand?”
“I understand, Doctor,” Kingstone murmured and for a moment, Joe suspected Rippon had been exercising skills as yet undeclared. He’d seen the same dazed response to stage hypnotists. But then, reassuringly practical, the subject asked, “And do you have a remedy?”
“The best one I have is—knowledge. Further and better knowledge. Once you’ve had a conjuror’s trick explained to you, you’re never caught out by it again. May I make two suggestions? You have how long before the conference gets under way?… Oh, that’s longer than I was expecting. Well then—I shall speak bluntly—here’s what you have to do:
“Firstly—wait here for the next glimpse of the spider. The next offering from Chelsea beach, I mean. We don’t know whom we will find in the bag, but—you must know the best or the worst. Steel yourself for this last hurdle. It has to be jumped. If you refuse this fence, you’re for the knacker’s yard. What you may not do is remain in suspense, with Sandilands standing about like Patience on a monument, holding as many cards as he can gather tightly to his chest!
“Secondly, whatever the outcome, you must get away from the capital for the weekend. Not only as a matter of security—you need to rest. You need—literally—to recover yourself. Not your body but your mind.”
“Is that it? Are you telling me I’ve shelled out half a crown for that advice—take a therapeutic peek at a corpse and beat it to the countryside?”
It was Armitage who first sensed the man’s humour had broken through. “Yeah, boss! Right! He could have prescribed some aspirin at least!” They both exploded into nervous laughter.
“Tea anyone?” The attendant kicked the door open and came through carrying a tray. “I brought a flask from home with me. Mother always makes up a good strong brew. Thought you all looked as though you could do with a cup. And there’s water for Miss.”
He turned cheerily to Rippon. “All fixed, sir. Doc Simmons says he can come straight round. Two of the blokes can stay on. Glad to oblige. They’ll be here in a sec to clear a space for the next customer. Would you like me to serve this next door in your study, sir?”
Julia took over when they’d settled in the study, pouring thick brown Assam sticky with condensed milk into chipped china cups. No one refused it. Joe drank his down gratefully, as did Armitage who, he suspected, had been weaned on such a brew in his east-end childhood. Julia sipped delicately. Kingstone emptied his cup at a gulp, unaware of what he was drinking, Joe guessed. He might as well have been downing a draught of Thames mud. He wouldn’t have known the difference.
Rippon had gone next door to heave and haul and scrub down along with his assistants and, after an uncomfortably long time, they heard bumps and bangs and Orford’s voice raised in command.
“There’s a discreet back way into the lab,” Joe thought he’d better explain. “They won’t ring a bell but it sounds as though the interval’s over. Drink up! All we all ready for the next act?”