“Unless Mister Gathorne-Hardy has more plans for diverting my attention.”
“You don’t like him, do you?”
Tennant raised an eyebrow. “Why do you say that?”
“I suspect you hold the home secretary responsible for the unfortunate end of your last case.”
“You’re well informed, Sir Lionel.”
“Information is my stock in trade.” Dermott sat back, eyeing Tennant under half-closed lids. “You’re wrong about my guvnor, you know.”
“You’ll never convince mine of that. Chief Inspector Clark sees the evils of the ‘old boys club’ at work, letting the well-connected escape justice.”
“Your chief is wrong. Gathorne-Hardy is a moralist at heart. No, the decision not to prosecute came from higher up.”
“Higher than the Home Office narrows it to—”
“Yes, Inspector. The prime minister thought it wise to avoid a lurid scandal that would taint his party.” Dermott knitted his hands behind his head, stretching his legs. “That should clear the air of any suspicions you harbored.”
“You’re certain you know my thoughts, Sir Lionel?”
“Oh, I know quite a lot about Richard Wellesley Tennant.”Dermott ticked a list on his fingers. “Captain in the Grenadier Guards, had a bad time of it in the Crimea, overlooked—criminally—for the Victoria Cross, and things not looking up when you got home.”
“Youarewell-informed. I’m flattered.”
“One thing surprises me: your godfather didn’t lend your services to the new Irish branch, although I suspect the commissioner thinks it’s a colossal waste of time.”
Tennant said dryly, “I believe he thinks I’m more useful working on routine Yard business. Now, you tellmesomething. Why do you want Sir Richard to think you’re a fool?”
A slow smile spread. “A reflexive bad habit, I’m afraid.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
Tennant waited, and Sir Lionel sighed. “I see I am up against that most formidable of persons, the patient man. Do you object to a pipe while I consider your question?”
“Not at all.”
“I’ll let in some air.”
Dermott unlatched the window. Then he reached into his coat pocket and extracted a briar pipe burnished to a glossy amber. He packed the bowl with tobacco, struck a match, and passed the flame over the top layer. Then he tamped a second and a third time. With each repetition, he drew on the stem until the tobacco flamed.
Sir Lionel moved the pipe to the corner of his mouth. “The pater taught me the proper way to do it. Lighting a pipe is a bit like you, Inspector. It rewards patience.”
After a few more puffs, he said, “Why do I play the fool? I’ve found that the English upper classes say the most extraordinary things in front of two sets of people. Servants and twits.” His slow smile came again. “It’s most convenient for information gathering if one is assumed to be amongst the latter.”
“I must keep your method in mind,” Tennant said.
“Now, those who unmask me …” Dermott pointed his pipestem at Tennant. “They intrigue me. I think my unmarried state must lower me in your catalog of suspects.”
“What makes you think you’re on the list?”
“Tut, tut, Inspector.” He shook his head in mock disapproval. “Don’t disappoint me now. I know you interviewed the lovely Lady Styles. You’ve done the simple sum, concluding two and three are five.”
“Would you mind spelling out the arithmetic for me?”
“Gladly, despite the mixed metaphor. It was at the Marlborough House ball the night the fateful travel arrangements were disclosed. Three gentlemen who were present are married men. Two are single. In the case of a pregnant servant, a husband has more to lose than a bachelor.”
“Were you on the Isle of Wight last summer and in October?”
