Closed Circle (25 page)

I tried to inject some dignity into my reply. "Believe it or not, Quincy, yes."

"As I thought. So, what are you going to do? She's in danger. You must know that better than I do. How do you propose to get her out of it?"

I took a long draw on my cigarette, trying to appear calm and relaxed while my mind sifted frantically through a tangle of competing considerations. Quincy had seen through me. If I told him why I was sure Vita and Diana were hiding something, he would probably not believe me. But his faith in Vita's innocence had been tested that very morning. I had to know just how secure it really was. "First things first," I replied at last. "The anonymous letter meant something to Vita. Are you sure she's not concealing vital information?"

"I have her word on it. And she vouches for Diana too. That's good enough for me. As for the diagram... Well, Vita may realize the seriousness of their position, which Diana obviously doesn't. She may have read some kind of threat into it. She may have been right to. If so, it's all the more urgent that we do something about it."

"But what?" I hesitated, weighing his words carefully. I was confident now of his sincerity. And I knew him to be a wealthy man. He seemed to be preparing the ground for some kind of proposal, one that might solve all our problems. "If, as you say," I continued cautiously, "Charnwood's clients won't believe what we believe, that Diana and Vita are completely innocent..." I looked straight at him. "Then I see no way out."

"Oh, there's always a way out." He grinned. "If you have enough money."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that, with my stake in the McGowan Steel Corporation, I could offer some ... compensation. A certain amount of capital, supplemented by McGowan stock, in return for the lifting of any threat to my niece and her aunt."

It was all I could do not to laugh. This was better and more generous than I had hoped. "You'd be willing to do that?"

"I'd be willing to negotiate a settlement. But I can't negotiate with faceless men. I need to make contact with these people. But I don't know who they are. Fabian was obsessively secretive about his clients. The most important of them the ones who could strike a bargain on behalf of the others are determined to remain anonymous. So, the only way I can reach them is through their agents. Through you, Guy."

We surveyed each other, coolly and rationally, as two men of the world. If I helped Quincy, I would be in his power as well as his debt. If I refused, the sword would still tremble at the end of a fraying hair. In the final analysis, I had no choice. But first, I had to negotiate my own settlement. "Do you intend to tell Diana or Vita what your suspicions are about me?"

"Not if you co-operate."

"By arranging a meeting?"

"It's not much to ask, is it?"

"No. I suppose it isn't." I glanced around the car, then looked back at him. "When?"

"As soon as possible. Time is of the essence."

"All right. When we reach London, I'll .. . make a telephone call."

"Good. We'll have packed the girls off to Dorking by then."

"I can't, of course, predict what the reaction to your proposal will be."

"Leave that to me." He leaned closer. "And Guy, if you learn anything from Diana anything at all that suggests she and Vita may be misleading us ... I want to know right away."

"Fair enough."

"I don't expect you to, mind, but..."

"I understand." The words I had overheard in the garden floated back into my memory. "I'm glad our efforts weren't wasted... Keep him guessing, Aunty. Guessing wrong." Yes, I understood. Better than Quincy could possibly imagine. "We all have to take .. . precautions, don't we?"

"Reckon so." He nodded solemnly, then suddenly smiled. "It's a deal, then?"

"Yes."

"Good man." He clapped me on the shoulder. "You won't regret it."

Would I not? It was an assurance I seemed to have heard too many times of late, too many infinitely regretful times. But every corner has to be turned in the end. Every run of bad luck has to change. As I raised my glass and glimpsed through it Quincy's smiling face, compressed as in a fair-ground mirror, I prayed that this would prove to be the moment.

So carefree was the atmosphere during dinner that it was possible to imagine my conversazione with Quincy had never taken place. But occasional beady-eyed glances from him assured me it had. And knowing he had the measure of me was made bearable by contemplating what I would have been forced to do but for his intervention. Instead, Diana could be left in ignorance of how divided my loyalties were. Around midnight, as I escorted her back to her cabin, a change in the sound of the train and a blast on the whistle signalled that we had entered the Simplon Tunnel into Switzerland. We were leaving Italy and Max behind us. She kissed me and whispered in my ear, "We're safe now, Guy." And I said nothing, content to let her make the most of her illusions.

"Quincy tells me he has to spend a few days in London," Vita remarked, as we gazed from the ferry at the White Cliffs of Dover. It was the following afternoon and the sky over England was a flawless blue. According to a discarded newspaper flapping on the bench beside us, the National Government had won the general election with a huge majority and the first autumn fog had descended on the capital. "He has some business to attend to. But I do hope and so does Diana, I'm sure that you'll come on to Dorking with us."

"You're very kind, but '

"There's plenty of room for you at Amber Court. After these weeks together in Venice, we wouldn't like to think of you alone in some miserable hotel."

"Do come, Guy," whispered Diana, sliding her hand into mine.

"I'd like to, but I think I really ought to visit my father and sister first. I have a great deal to tell them."

"Only right and proper," said Vita. "But afterwards .. ."

"I'd be delighted to accept your invitation."

"Splendid." She rose and sniffed the sea air. "Now, if you young people will excuse me, I'm beginning to find it rather cold out here. I shall go below and see what's become of Quincy."

As she waddled off, Diana kissed me on the cheek and said: "I would like to meet your father and sister, Guy."

"So you will. When I've prepared them for such a beautiful surprise."

"Is that why you're going to Letchworth? To prepare them?"

"Yes. And to explain what's happened." I smiled at her, aware of the practised ease with which I was lying, but feeling no shred of guilt. This lie had to be told for everybody's sake. "Don't worry. Everything will be all right."

When Quincy and I saw Diana and Vita off from Victoria on the Dorking train later that afternoon, they assumed we were about to go our separate ways. Instead, we both booked into the Grosvenor Hotel. As soon as the porter had shown me to my room, I telephoned Gregory's office and made an appointment to see him in an hour. Quincy professed himself well pleased with the arrangement.

"What line is Gregory in?"

"The honours trade. He sells peerages, knighthoods, baronetcies and any other title he can earn commission on."

Titles can be bought?"

"Oh yes. Bought and sold."

Quincy whistled. "So much for the British nobility. I guess it makes my task easier. At least this fellow will be used to discussing money."

"Used to it?" I smiled. "Money is Maundy Gregory's mother tongue." And mine too, as the idea taking root in my mind confirmed. If Quincy could convince Charnwood's creditors there was no hidden hoard of cash and buy them off with McGowan stock; if the whereabouts of such a hoard was the secret Diana and Vita shared, unbeknown to all except me; if my future and

Diana's were joined.. . Then wealth might truly beckon. "How much has she told you, Guy?" Max had asked. "Nothing," I should have replied. "Yet."

Parliament Square was shrouded in fog when we walked across it an hour later, the Palace of Westminster reduced to a blurred hulk, the face of Big Ben to a lofty glow. Through the swing-doors marked Whitehall Gazette we marched, past the commissionaire and the secretary and into the inner sanctum, where Gregory was waiting to receive me. But he was expecting only one visitor. Fearing he might refuse to meet Quincy, I had not mentioned I would be bringing him. And the discourtesy clearly did not please our host.

"Who is this gentleman, dear boy?" he asked, frowning ominously. As I introduced my companion and explained his relationship to the Charnwood family, the frown intensified. "You are Fabian Charnwood's brother-in-law?" he said to Quincy when I had finished. "Frankly, my good sir, I doubt if we have anything to say to each other."

Quincy smiled. "You're wrong there, Mr. Gregory. I have a proposition for you. And Guy tells me you're always interested in propositions especially when they involve large sums of money."

At that last word Gregory's expression mellowed. "What manner of proposition are you referring to?"

"A mutually advantageous one."

"Which I think merits serious consideration," I put in. "I'm satisfied neither Diana nor her aunt can lead us to Charnwood's nest egg for the simple reason that it doesn't exist."

Gregory scowled. "The question is not whether you are satisfied, but whether those whom Charnwood robbed are satisfied."

And still Quincy smiled at him. "Excuse me, but you're wrong again. The question is how much will satisfy them whatever the source."

Gregory stared at each of us in turn. He was not prepared for such a simplistic approach. But already he was doing his best to evaluate it. "Perhaps," he said slowly. "Perhaps it is."

"The McGowan Steel Corporation may be able to put up an equitable amount of compensation for my late brother-in-law's aggrieved clients if the answer is a realistic one."

"I see."

"And, over and above that, the broker of such an agreement might expect... a generous fee."

"Ah yes. The broker." The edges of his mouth quivered. "We must never forget him."

"You'll get nothing from my niece or her aunt. But I don't want them to come to any harm while you find that out."

"Laudable, I'm sure." Now Gregory too was smiling. He was beginning to envisage how he might sell Quincy's proposition -and what commission he could charge for so doing. "I think we may have discovered the basis for a profitable discussion, Mr. McGowan." He looked across at me. "Would you mind leaving us, dear boy?" I guessed at once why he wanted to talk to Quincy alone. That way, I would never know for certain what terms they agreed, nor whether my share of his commission was reasonable. But I did not care. Something far more rewarding than the crumbs from Maundy Gregory's table lay within my reach. "Wait outside, would you? While we pursue the point."

"Certainly." I rose and left, winking at Quincy as I passed his chair. The deal was as good as done.

And so it proved when, twenty minutes later, Gregory flung open his office door and ushered me back in. Champagne and cigars appeared as if from nowhere. A celebratory mood united with the alcohol and nicotine in an intoxicating trinity.

"I shall do my very best to persuade those I represent to accept your proposals, Mr. McGowan," he boomed, 'in the spirit of compromise which I believe should govern the conduct of all fair-minded men."

"I can't ask you to do more," Quincy replied, grinning surreptitiously at me.

"Faraday mentioned the end of this month as a dead-line," I cautiously remarked.

"In abeyance, dear boy," Gregory lisped through his cigar. "Until we reach a settlement."

"Which will be soon, I hope," said Quincy.

"Indeed," replied Gregory, consenting to remove the cigar for a moment. "You will both be at Amber Court next week, I believe you said."

"We will."

Then dine with me at the Deepdene, my hotel in Dorking, a week tonight. I should be able to report a positive outcome to my discussions by then."

That suits me," said Quincy. "What about you, Guy?" "Why, yes, of course." But I had the distinct impression that my attendance would merely be a token acknowledgement of my role in bringing these two men together. They had no further need of my services. Nor, with any luck, had I any need of theirs.

Quincy and I discussed the progress we had made over a late dinner at the Grosvenor. I pointed out, as gently as I could, that Charnwood's creditors would not necessarily agree with Gregory, but Quincy was confident they would.

"For the fee I'm offering him, Gregory will do his damnedest to win them over. And I reckon he'll succeed."

"I certainly hope so."

"You can bet on it. We're not home and dry yet, but, hell, the harbour's mighty close." Suddenly, his face crumpled and he pressed his hand to his forehead. He seemed to be on the verge of tears.

"What's the matter?"

"I'm sorry." He smiled gamely. "It's just that Diana makes me think of Maudie more than I have in years. I suppose I want to save my niece because I failed to save my sister."

"How could you have? Nobody was to know the Germans would sink the Lusitania."

"Weren't they? The German Embassy in Washington ran an ad in the New York papers the morning she sailed warning travellers that any vessel flying the British flag would be considered a legitimate target for attack. I could have He stopped and chewed pensively on his cigar, then resumed in a subdued tone. "But it's too late now for Maudie. And all the other victims. We have to think of the living."

"When will you go down to Dorking?"

He sighed, then summoned a grin. Tomorrow. And you? Vita tells me you plan to see your folks first."

"Yes. But I'll only be away a few days."

"Preparing them for an announcement where you and Diana are concerned, maybe?"

I smiled coyly. "Maybe."

"Just be sure you're back before our dinner date with Gregory."

"Don't worry. I will be."

I lay awake that night reflecting on the complexity of life. If I had left Venice, as I had wanted to, immediately after Max's death, everything would have been so very different. Or would it? There was no way to know, no way to judge whether, despairing of clearing my friend's name, I would have returned to Diana in search of the consolation I had since found in her arms. For I no longer expected to achieve or discover anything that would exonerate Max. Time had eroded my faith in his innocence, time and all the other traits of my character. So, what was the point of doing even the little I had sworn to do to salvage his reputation? Why not abandon the struggle before I had embarked upon it and lose myself in the alluring future Quincy had made possible? I fell asleep very nearly convinced I should do precisely that.