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Mrs. T then patted her hand. I would never have believed
that you had the strength in these to do the deed.
Well, it was odd. My old dad used to tell a tale or two
about people who had almost superhuman force in a crisis.
He d known a frail little woman whose son got trapped
under a huge cartwheel; she d gone over and picked the
thing off him as if it were a dandelion clock. Same thing
happened to me, I could have taken on Samson at the time.
But your friend got something wrong, you know. You can
tell him later if you like, make him a bit less smug. There
was no spite in the remark, it was as if they were two little
children having a laugh on their pals. It wasn t Aloysius
hankie, it was Arthur s. I ve kept one freshly laundered in
my knitting bag all these years. Never used it, which is
ironic considering what happened to it in the end. I found
that I d lost it just this weekend. I d had it in the garden in
my knitting bag, blood and all, because it seemed wrong to
wash it. That barman must have picked it up, kept it for
some nasty little purpose of his own. Well it s all out in the
open now. I ll have to find a vicar to confess it all, though
I ve made my peace with God about it.
They sat and watched the birds circling up over the
woods. They were honey buzzards, Jonty suspected, which
was beautifully poignant. It seemed only a few minutes
before Inspector Wilson appeared by the Hotel door then
slowly crossed the lawn. Whether Orlando had summoned
him, or he d been in the offing anyway, or perhaps as
Stewart suspected he had some sixth sense that alerted
him to a confession, he was there at the appropriate time.
Mrs. Tattersall, Dr. Stewart, I believe that you might
want to talk to me.
They didn t, although they had to oblige. When the
story was complete, a tale that they were allowed to tell
with the minimum of intervention, Wilson nodded, not just
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Charlie Cochrane
to his companions, but seemingly to himself. I was never
happy that Banks had been responsible for everything.
Neither is Mr. le Tissier. We ve only been discussing today
the preponderance of men with the initial A at The Beaulieu
and how we d perhaps have to look at them closely. It was
going to prove a difficult exercise, what with people going
home and the culprit apparently named. He considered.
Maybe it would be a lot easier if we just stuck to that. I
can t see this coming to trial in the short term; surely it
wouldn t serve any great purpose to open it all up again
with no proper end in sight. As long as Mr. Ainslie would
agree?
Stewart rose. I ll go and talk to him. He found
Matthew with Orlando in the bar, with glasses empty and all
conversation ceased. He plonked himself down at Ainslie s
side, explaining the rather unusual discussion he d just had.
It s unorthodox, I know, yet it may be the best solution.
Less chance of things coming to light in court, things which
you d rather not have known. Oh, I know that the letters
shouldn t be brought up at the trial, but you never know
what people will turn up once they start prying into things.
It doesn t seem right, Jonty, Orlando stared into his
empty glass. For all that the young man who s waiting to
be picked off the rocks was a nasty piece of work, no-one
denies that, it would only be fair if he too received some
sort of justice.
Justice, Orlando? You want to talk about that? I can
think of two young men in particular who did a lot worse
than Banks, and they re still walking around free. You
know what I m referring to, so I ll not bore Matthew with
the details. Sometimes justice can t be served, she has to
turn her blind eye and just let life go on. Would there be any
use served in pursuing this? That only Matthew can decide.
It s fair dealing for his father which counts, not for a
blackmailer.
Ainslie had been very still, contemplating his fingers as
they lay motionless on the table next to his glass. I would
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Lessons in Desire
have justice for my father, but not at the expense of
someone who has shown me more kindness than many of
my so called friends. He saw Orlando s frown then
clarified himself. I don t include you in this; you ve both
been more than sympathetic. Mrs. Tattersall has had to
suffer injustice for one of her closest relatives, so perhaps
there would be an ironic kind of morality if we were to
leave the situation as it is. I can see no black and white case
here. All solutions seem equally unsuitable.
Then the murderer lies dead on the rocks. Stewart
sighed, rising swiftly from his chair in his anxiety to deliver
the verdict to Wilson. He stopped at the door then turned.
Will you join us for dinner tonight, Matthew? I understand
that the dance has been cancelled, so we ll be able to have
an uninterrupted game of whist afterwards. Seems the
proper way to end this holiday, being quiet and civilized.
Ginger ale before the journey, that ll stop the sickness.
It was the last thing that Mrs. Tattersall had said to the
young men before they set off for the boat. It was typical of
all that they knew about her, concerned to the last with their
welfare, just as she had cosseted and looked after Matthew
Ainslie after killing his father in cold blood. But then she
had felt no animosity towards the son her concern for him
had been entirely genuine. They felt a pang of regret in
leaving her behind, to spend the last week of her last
holiday in relative peace and with the prospect of new
bridge partners arriving soon.
They left The Beaulieu with regret, too, having seen
such happy times there. Now these were just memories to
be taken out for airing when the days in Cambridge were
long, cold and dark. The cove had been wished farewell the
day before and Matthew had shaken their hands just before
they boarded their cab.
Keep in touch with us, Mr. Ainslie. Addressing a letter
to the college will get it there soon enough. Stewart
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Charlie Cochrane
beamed at their new ally.
I ll do just that. I ll be following you home across the
Channel once the business of an enquiry into Alec Banks
death is sorted. Le Tissier thinks it ll be straightforward,
there having been plenty of witnesses to it. Perhaps we can
meet again?
Of course, Orlando smiled then clapped him on the
shoulder, just as long as there are no honey buzzards in the
vicinity. It was a brave joke for him but they all saw the
funny side.
Hit you hard this, hasn t it, Orlando? The voyage
home was a quiet one, the Channel like a mill pond with
hardly a ripple. The two fellows of St. Bride s stood, all
alone, by the very rail where two weeks since Orlando had
felt like the only welcome option was death. Now he
seemed almost content with traveling and a wistful smile
played on his lips as he looked back, straining to catch a
glimpse of the islands.
Aye, Jonty. I had such a fondness for Mrs. Tattersall,
you know; a true lady, I thought her. Then to find out&
She was every part a lady, Orlando. I saw so many
qualities in her that my own mother has, like kindness,
courage and an absolute need to stand up for those she
loves. Put yourself in her shoes, my dear. Imagine it was
someone that you held very precious who had suffered
terribly at the hands of a third party, someone who was
totally innocent.
I wouldn t have killed over it.
Wouldn t you? What if you met one of the men who
hurt me at school? Could you really say that you wouldn t
drive a spike into his neck? Jonty looked at his lover
closely, trying to penetrate through the veneer of reserve
deep into the passionate heart and brain.
Coppersmith sighed. You re right. I d have done the
same in the circumstances, perhaps much worse, especially
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Lessons in Desire
if I felt he was gloating. He fingered his little onyx tie pin,
staring down into the waves. I keep having to learn again
what it means to love someone beyond all reason. It makes
you do irrational things, I suppose.
Oh, I think Mrs. Tattersall was being totally rational.
She would do it a thousand times over given the chance.
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