Reggie stared at him in cold fascination. The glimmering of understanding was coming into his mind, and it was ugly.
“What did you have in mind, Freddie?” he asked slowly. He would like to have hit him, kicked him, sitting so smugly there in front of the fire. But he knew he could not afford to. The police were too busy, too watchful of anything different just now. The time would come, of course, after all this business was finished, and life went back to the way it had been before: then he would be able to sort Freddie out. The fellow was a bounder.
But in the meantime-
“What do you want, Freddie?” he asked again.
Freddie was still smiling. What a charming fellow he used to think he was! That smile was so frank, so quick to grace his features.
“Got this rotten bill outstanding at my tailor’s,” Freddie seemed quite unabashed. “Been there rather a long time. Give me a hand with it, old boy. As a favor. Feel that if I actually owned my clothes, instead of that damned stitchin’ fellow, I’d be enormously grateful.”
“You damn better be!”
“Will, I assure you. Think of you every time I dress.”
“How much?”
“Oh, hundred pounds should about do it.”
“A hundred pounds!” Reggie was shattered. He did not spend that much on clothes in a year, and he would not have allowed Adelina half of it. Damn it all, he paid maids only twenty pounds a year. “How in God’s name did you permit yourself-?”
“Like to dress well, you know.” Freddie stood up. He was tall, slim, elegant: indeed he did dress well, far better than Reggie; then of course he had the figure for it, but even so! “Thanks, old boy,” he said cheerfully. “Shan’t forget it.”
“By God, you’d better not!” Reggie could feel anger and panic rising in him. If Freddie did forget, or went back on his word-
“Don’t worry,” Freddie said easily. “Got an excellent memory, when I choose. Doctor, you know. Doctors never repeat what their patients tell them in confidence. Police can’t make them. Perfectly safe.” He moved to the door gracefully. “I’ll take the hundred now. Tailor chap a bit impatient, you know. Won’t take any more orders till I cough up. Miserly wretch.”
“Haven’t got it now,” Reggie replied stiffly. “I’ll send the footman round to the bank in the morning. Give it to you by tomorrow.”
“Yes, don’t forget, Reggie. Good memory could be vital; I’m sure you understand.”
Reggie understood perfectly. He would have a footman at the bank door the moment it opened. Damn Freddie. And the worst of it was he would have to go on being civil to the cad; there was no way out of it. If he cut him people would notice, and he must at any cost keep Freddie’s good will, at least until the police gave up and left the square.
He sat down again after Freddie had gone. He was glad Adelina had not come back into the room. He wished to be alone. He had had a very considerable shock, and the more he thought about it, the nastier it became. Who would have credited that Freddie could behave in such a way? If a chap was a bit short of ready money, anyone could understand that. But to resort to-well-it amounted to blackmail.
Of course it would all blow over when the police either found out who the wretched girl was, which was unlikely, or gave up, which on the face of it was probably what would happen. Then another very unpleasant thought came to him. What did the police do if they could not solve a case? Did they give up? Or did they put it aside, but always keep it at the back of their minds: someone detailed to keep an ear to it? The possibility was frightening! What if they never gave up, if they kept at it, like an open wound, probing it every time it threatened to close over? That could be very nasty, a permanently ugly rumor never either exposed and lived down, nor yet laid to rest as false.
Good God! What could he do about Freddie then? The man, if he were cad enough, could keep coming back over and over again! A hundred pounds here, a social favor there, or a spot of financial advice under the counter, a gift of this or that-God in heaven, it could be never ending! It was monstrous!
The best thing for Reggie would be if this damned Pitt fellow found out who it was and cleared up the whole wretched business. Then Freddie could say what he liked. It would certainly damage Reggie’s reputation for a while, and Adelina would be pretty upset. But then their relationship was not so very close anyway: not a lot to lose, compared with permanent leeching by Freddie! And the very fact that as a doctor and a friend he had broken such a confidence would do Freddie himself a damn sight more damage. Who would trust the fellow after that? No, to tell the police, under pressure, was one thing, there could be a good excuse for that: but to spread it around, merely as gossip, that was unpardonable, and Freddie would be sure to know that.
No, quite definitely, if Pitt found out who it was, Reggie would be safe. He settled down deeper into the chair and stretched his legs out again. This really was an excellent fire. He rang for the footman, gave him instructions about the bank, and ordered more port. He would not have thought the two of them could have got through a whole bottle, but there it was, empty; so they must have. Still, a wretched experience like this called for a little fortification. Natural enough.
Thing was, must see what he could do to help this police fellow to get the matter solved, so everyone knew who was to blame, and thus who was not: and the police took themselves off back to the usual sort of crimes they were really employed to deal with.
He fell asleep, still wondering what he could do to help Pitt.
He woke late the following morning, as was his habit, rose, was dressed by his valet, and took a good breakfast of porridge, bacon, eggs, deviled kidneys, sausage, mushrooms, then several slices of toast, butter, and preserves, then of course a fresh pot of tea. He should have felt a great deal better after it: but he did not. In the gray, pedestrian light of morning, the more he thought about the likelihood of the police discovering the girl to blame, the less likely he considered it to be that they would meet with any success. The fellow Pitt was probably bright enough, he was certainly inquisitive; but where could he find proof? After all, it was all months ago now, even years! Could have been anybody! Some wretched girl even from the neighboring blocks! Did not have to be Callander Square at all! Now had the fools thought of that?
“Don’t be an ass! Calm yourself, Reggie. Of course they have. That is probably what they spent their time doing, when they were not here. And they were here quite a small part of the time, considering they quite probably worked from breakfast till dinner, five or six days a week. Yes, of course, they will have asked all over the place.” He began to feel better again, and spent a pleasant enough morning going into the city, wandered round the merchant bank of which he was a director, had a long luncheon at his club, and was home again by half past four when it became dark and began to drizzle. The gas lamps in the square were partly obscured by drifting mist and the trees rattled in the rising wind. A filthy night. Glad to have a good fire and a good table to go to.
He greeted the children civilly enough, and of course Adelina, and was relaxing after dinner when there was a knock on the door.
“Come in,” he said with some surprise.
Chastity came in, looking very prim and clean.
“What is it, child?” he was a little annoyed. He did not wish to talk.
“Uncle Reggie, Miss Waggoner says I must ask you if I wish to learn mathematics. Please, may I?”
“No. Whatever would you require mathematics for?”
“I would like to learn for the sake of learning,” she replied sedately. “You have said to me that it is good to do so.”
“They would be of no use to you,” he said decisively.
“Neither is painting, but you say I should learn it.”
“Painting is an art, that is quite different. Women should become proficient in some art or other: give them something to do when they grow up. Otherwise how will you employ your time?” That was faultless logic. She would have no answer for that. He faced her with satisfaction.