“And I’m thinking that perhaps the shepherd has found his dog,” Joe said. “In which case we should all be heaving a sigh of relief that it’s not Oswald Mosley he’s chosen to go haring about biting bums on his behalf! Do you think that could be so, Marcus? That what we’re looking at is no more than the tip of an iceberg? The visible bit of a political power struggle. How dull!”
“Dull for you and dull for me,” Marcus said thoughtfully. He began to rearrange the photographs to his further satisfaction. “Perhaps not for these poor little tiddlers. How do they come to be caught in the net? I’m thinking you’ll be needing all your nifty footwork to sort this lot out, Joe!”
“No nifty footwork expected. I find myself once again the tiniest cog in the affairs of state. I’m just required to do my job without snarling up the works. Insignificant.”
“Below the horizon isn’t a bad place to lurk in dangerous times,” Marcus commented. “It worked for Lord Nelson. Be insignificant but—make sure your cannon are primed and ready to go. Now tell me why young Truelove’s poaching on police preserves.”
He grinned and added: “And how you’re planning to confound him!”
CHAPTER 9
“With low cunning and a crunching right fist!” Dorcas answered for him. “His usual technique.”
She had entered unnoticed. She put down a glass of whisky in front of Joe, murmuring: “Glenmorangie with a teaspoon of chilled water,” and squeezed herself in beside him, smelling deliciously of something he thought he recognised. Roses and sandalwood. He’d left a bottle of expensive scent under Lydia’s tree for her Christmas present.
“Lydia—before we get on to plotting the downfall of the government, may I just report a small domestic detail? I’ve exceeded orders upstairs. Everyone is happily bedded down, though not necessarily in their own bed or their own room. The girls are completely besotted by Jackie—insisted on taking him in with them for the night. He was playing up to this no end—told them he’d never spent a night in a room on his own until last night at Uncle Joe’s.”
“True enough,” Joe supported the boy’s assertion. “In India he would have been in the constant company of his Ayah. And then twenty-nine other boys in the dormitory at school.”
He hardly knew what he was saying. He was dealing with a blinding flash of memory that took him back through the years to a château crowded with children and showed him again the skinny girl struggling to appear grown up, all eyes and elbows and determination. She’d always known what to say to children when he’d been left mumbling.
“And the girls took pity on him?” Lydia nodded.
“Who wouldn’t? With those innocent blue eyes and that golden hair, he’s a baby Apollo! And can he ever tell a story!”
“But where have they settled?”
“All three are in Vanessa’s room. There’s a good fire in there and a big bed which Juliet has agreed to share with her sister. We all dragged the guest bed in for Jackie and put it next to them. I left him telling them an Indian ghost story. He doesn’t seem at all sleepy. Now, I overheard that last bit. Why, Joe, would you be thinking of locking antlers with my hero? It was my Sir James you were talking about, wasn’t it?”
“Dorcas! You know him?”
“Of course. He’s a huge supporter of the sciences. He’s donated vast amounts to my own department at the university. He funded a project I was involved with myself last year and that’s how I met him. We’re all required to take a term out ‘in the field,’ doing research.”
“Into what?” Joe interrupted. “You must excuse my ignorance, Dorcas, but no one has thought fit to tell me exactly what you’ve been up to these past seven years.” A look from Lydia confirmed that his tone had been aggrieved, and he lapsed into an awkward silence.
Dorcas appeared not to notice his discomfort. “Research into genetics, Joe. Inheritance of physical and intellectual qualities. That’s my special interest. ‘Psychology’ is a bit of an umbrella subject and they’re still trying to define its borders. Sir James is keen on exploring and expanding them. We’re encouraged to study widely for our first degree and then, if there’s any prospect of continuing, specialise after that. That’s when the real work starts.”
“And where did you spend your term out?”
“Not far from here. In Sussex. I was based at St. Raphael’s Clinic in the North Downs. A lovely spot. A wonderful establishment. I was lucky to get the placement. I’m writing up my findings at the moment—getting together my thesis for finals. That’s why I’m down here at the moment—we’re all on home leave until Easter.”
Joe sipped his whisky with pleasure. She’d remembered the drop of iced water. Should he feel flattered? He was sure he was meant to, as he was meant to notice she was using the perfume he’d given her. He was uneasy that he still fell for it. He told himself that this was ever her way—she’d deliver a pat on the head which would be followed by a kick in the shins. He took a discreet look at the confident and beautiful young woman at his side. He noted the purity of the profile, the brilliance of the dark eyes, the slenderness of the neck with its simple decoration of a single strand of tiny pearls and swallowed uneasily. He told himself that the annoying child he’d known was probably still there under the silk dinner gown, waiting to make use of him.
“So, I won’t hear of any attempt to do him down. Sir James is very … caring … Joe. He came out several times to supervise the work I was doing at the hospital. He’s a busy man; he didn’t have to do that—he was just interested. And knowledgeable. He made some rather useful suggestions which put me right on track for a good result. Well he would know, wouldn’t he? His father did some splendid work with peas. You know—verifying and expanding on Mendel’s experiments. If I’m to declare an interest here I ought to add that.…” Dorcas’s firm tone faltered for a moment and, to cover her sudden loss of confidence, she took a defiant gulp of Joe’s whisky. “… to add that … he did hint … and at this stage of course it could never be more than a hint … that … I’m just the kind of researcher he would think of employing in the family concerns when I graduate.”
Marcus hurried to support her. “Well, there is life beyond the degree ceremony, you know, Joe. Doesn’t all end with a mortarboard and a scroll. What’s her father going to do about her once she’s graduated and at large again, eh? Orlando doesn’t have a clue! She’s not the marrying kind, she tells us. And I, for one, believe her,” he said thoughtfully. “No—the openings for a woman are not many and not good. With Truelove’s backing she could get somewhere.”
“So, on the whole, Joe, I’d be obliged if you could hold off confounding him.” Her smile was dazzling but was swiftly followed by a frown as she turned her attention to the table. “Now, who’ve we got here? Will someone tell me why the table’s spread with photographs of small boys?”
“Better tell her, Joe,” Lydia said.
“I’M KEEPING AN open mind.”
Joe remembered that these words always prefaced a decided personal opinion from Dorcas.
“But I think I can reassure you that if molestation of a sexual nature is clouding your minds, you can forget it. At least as far as Jackie’s concerned. For these others,” She gestured to the photographs, “who can say?”
“Dorcas, how would you know?”
“Come off it, Joe! Sexual exploitation is probably the first suspicion that came to mind. Everyone’s mind. But especially a policeman’s. After that ghastly business the Yard had to deal with a couple of years ago! And when a boy is so unhappy he runs away from school it’s something you have to consider. So I asked him.”