Sweet Poison (28 page)

‘And now?’

‘Now it’s in no one’s interest to publish it. It might damage the government’s negotiations with Chancellor Hitler if we are seen to smear his personal envoy, Friedberg. We wouldn’t want that. Let’s hope the
Daily Worker
doesn’t get hold of it,’ Weaver added meaningfully. ‘They are outside the pale and have their own axes to grind.’

‘If you mean, will I write about it, the answer is no,’ said Verity. ‘We don’t persecute dead men and their living families.’

‘I was sure that was the case,’ said Lord Weaver smoothly. ‘But you said you were going to bring him to see me, Lord Edward?’

‘Yes, I was sure you would do what you could to help him.’

‘I am touched by your faith in me but I fear there was nothing anyone could do for Larmore. I will see if there is anything I can do for Celia and the children. I think you’ll find people will rally round. But as I began to say, I wanted to talk to you about something much more important, at least to me: what you did for Hermione. You saved her life – it was nothing less – and Blanche and I owe you a great deal, Lord Edward.’

‘I only did what Lady Weaver asked me to do.’

‘Oh, don’t be modest, Lord Edward. We are both greatly in your debt. You found her just in time. She was almost in a coma and in another two or three hours she would have been dead. There’s no doubt about it: she owes you her life.’

Edward was now thoroughly embarrassed and to change the subject asked Lord Weaver if he had heard anything of Captain Gordon.

‘No,’ he said gravely. ‘I have not. The police will trace him soon, I am sure. I feel very much to blame that the Cocoanut Grove, which I think you know I own, should have been used to disseminate drugs.’

‘I guessed as much,’ said Edward.

‘Yes, the police are quite sure of it.’

‘And how is Miss Pageant?’ said Edward, deciding that this was a good moment to try and clear up one mystery. ‘She is a most talented singer.’

‘Why, I am glad you think so, Lord Edward,’ said Weaver, waving his hand. ‘I must admit I am – what do you call it –
parti pris
? She is just in the next room.’

Edward started to get up from his chair, unable to disguise his astonishment. He had never expected Lord Weaver to be so candid about his relationship with the girl. Weaver went over to a door disguised as a bookcase. He opened it and called, ‘Amy, come and say hello to Lord Edward and to Verity Browne.’

Amy Pageant came in looking cool and beautiful, her large eyes bright with anticipation and a smile on her wide mouth which made Edward’s heart turn over. ‘Amy, you know Lord Edward and Miss Browne, don’t you?’

‘Yes, of course,’ she said coming over to shake hands. ‘Isn’t that good news about Hermione, Lord Edward?’

‘It certainly is,’ he replied. Her American accent made him think of jazz, black coffee and Manhattan cocktails. Suddenly, seeing Amy beside Lord Weaver, Edward noticed something. Before he could stop himself he said, ‘You must be related!’

Lord Weaver smiled and said, ‘How very perceptive of you, Lord Edward. Yes, Amy is my daughter but how you recognized it I do not know – me with a face like a turnip and she being the most beautiful girl in the world. I’m sorry, Miss Browne, but you must let an old man have his fancies.’

Verity said, ‘No, you are quite correct, Lord Weaver, Amy is very beautiful. Lord Edward has admired her very much since he first saw her perform at the club. But tell us, there has to be a story here.’

‘Well yes, there is as a matter of fact,’ said Lord Weaver, uncharacteristically shy but nevertheless putting his arm protectively around his daughter’s waist. ‘I can see the investigative journalist coming out in you. My first wife died in childbirth and to my enduring shame I left Amy to be brought up by two unmarried aunts of mine in Corner Brook. Now I guess that was very wrong of me and must sound heartless, unfeeling. All I can say in mitigation is that I was truly distraught when my poor wife died and in my madness I kind of blamed the innocent little baby for it. Crazy I know, but I was crazy.’

Weaver glanced at Amy who returned his gaze fondly. ‘Oh, Pa,’ she said softly, ‘don’t blame yourself.’

‘But I do,’ Weaver said energetically, ‘and of course I paid for it by losing out on seeing my baby grow up. I guess I thought, as a pushy young man out to make a million dollars, that I could not cope with having a baby girl to look after, but I see now I was wrong – very wrong.’

‘And why “Pageant”?’ inquired Edward.

‘That was my mother’s maiden name,’ Amy replied.

‘So how . . .’ Verity began.

‘So how come we got reunited?’ Weaver said, grinning broadly. ‘I’ll tell you how. One of the old aunts died and the other got kind of feeble and so she wrote me asking what she should do. At first I didn’t know what to do. For one thing, I didn’t know if Blanche would wear it. I mean, I never got on so well with Hermione and I guess I thought if I suddenly produced a long-lost daughter then Hermione might get to hate me and then Blanche . . . To tell the truth, I asked the Duke what he advised.’

‘You asked Gerald?’ said Edward amazed.

‘Why yes, sir, I did. The Duke is a very wise man in my estimation and so is the Duchess – wise, I mean. I told them that when I first had the letter I thought I was being blackmailed but the more I thought of it the more I wanted to see how my baby had turned out. And now I know,’ he said, gazing fondly on his daughter who smiled back.

‘You paid for everything anyway, Pa, so how could there be blackmail? I would not want you to think, Lord Edward, that my father had left me to fend for myself. I was as well educated and well looked after as I possibly could have been.’

‘I don’t mean money blackmail, sweetheart. I was terrified about Blanche. I am so fortunate to have found such a wonderful woman, Lord Edward, I really dreaded something coming between us but as it turned out I need not have worried. As I told the Duke at Mersham, before dinner – before poor Craig died – I had taken his and the Duchess’s advice and told Blanche everything. She was just wonderful and was only cross with me for not having told her about Amy years ago.’

‘Since you are being so frank with us, Lord Weaver,’ Edward said, ‘might I ask how your stepdaughter took the news?’

‘Hermione? Hmf! That wasn’t so easy – she said some pretty terrible things to both her mother and me. However, I guess she’ll get over it.’

‘You don’t think – forgive me if I am being impertinent – you don’t think taking drugs was her way of hurting you both – taking her revenge for plucking another daughter out of the hat, so to speak?’ Edward had deliberately spoken crudely but Lord Weaver seemed unruffled by his words.

‘I don’t think so – I pray that it is not the case. I’m afraid she had been taking dope for some time. We had – her mother and I – tried everything to stop her.’

‘What had you tried?’

‘Well, Blanche kept her with her as much as possible and tried to distract her. I told her I would not increase her allowance unless she promised not to spend the money on dope, but it was no good.’

‘Did you take her to a doctor?’ Verity asked.

‘No, she refused – said she was not ill, just bored.’ He shrugged his massive shoulders. ‘But what do I know? I feel such a fool, but then men are fools, are they not, Miss Browne?’

‘Well, yes, they mostly are, I suppose,’ Verity agreed, smiling. ‘And I’m going to be a fool too and turn down your kind offer to work for the
New Gazette
. As you know, I am a member of the Communist Party – not a very good member and not typical, I suppose, as Lord Edward has been telling me, but I do have principles and I want to be true to them.’

‘But Miss Browne – Verity – we would give you your own by-line and let you declare your political point of view.’

‘That’s very good of you, Lord Weaver, and you are destroying all my prejudices against newspaper tycoons, whom I have to believe to be ruthless capitalists with no regard for anything but money, and that’s not fair of you, but seriously I think your readers would feel, quite correctly, that I was airing my views in the wrong pulpit.’

‘Well,’ said Weaver, shrugging his shoulders, ‘it is my loss. I have never said this to anyone before but if you change your mind there will be a job waiting. Mostly, if someone says no to me, I say goodbye for ever but you’re special, Miss Browne.’

13

Wednesday Evening

While Verity had been making her goodbyes to Lord Weaver, Edward had taken the opportunity of inviting Amy to dinner before her show at the Cocoanut Grove. She had accepted and Edward had felt delight, excitement and guilt. He had not, he told himself, deliberately made his invitation to Amy when he knew Verity was otherwise engaged but, truth to tell, he did not want her to know what he had done. It was ridiculous really, he reassured himself. His relationship with Verity, as she would be the first to admit, was an uneasy friendship based on the desire they shared to get to the bottom of a mysterious death – nothing more. He was not her lover – he strongly suspected that David Griffiths-Jones enjoyed that position – so he would take out to dinner any girl he pleased. In any case, he wanted to ask Amy what she knew about Captain Gordon’s activities. So why did he feel guilty?

That evening, before going back to Albany to change, he called in at King Edward VII, the private hospital in Beaumont Street where Hermione Weaver was recovering. He knocked at the door of her room and was bidden to come in by Lady Weaver who was sitting by her daughter’s bed flicking over the pages of
Vogue
.

‘Lord Edward!’ she said with evident pleasure. ‘This is so kind of you.’

Edward shook hands as well as he was able from behind a dozen roses he had bought in Marylebone Lane. ‘Gosh, I needn’t have bought these,’ he exclaimed ruefully, looking at the array of vases filled with flowers on every shelf and ledge. ‘How are you, Hermione?’ he said gently. ‘You must still be feeling rotten but really, you know, you are almost looking your old self.’

‘Oh dear, Lord Edward, I hope not,’ she answered, her voice weak and rather growly. ‘I think I must have lost a stone in weight.’ She tried to smile but the smile turned into a cough. When she recovered, she said, ‘Please forgive my voice but by the time they had finished putting tubes down me they left my throat sorer than the worst sore throat you ever had.’

‘That will soon pass, I’m sure,’ Edward said, sitting down beside her on the seat vacated by Blanche who said she was going to stretch her legs. He took her hand gently in his and said, ‘I hope the police haven’t been harassing you. I gather from Inspector Pride that you didn’t see who it was who attacked you but perhaps you don’t want to talk about any of that.’

‘No, Lord Edward,’ said Hermione weakly. ‘I would like to talk to you about it, but first I have to thank you for saving my life.’

‘Oh, don’t mention it,’ said Edward, embarrassed. ‘It was really your mother. She was desperately worried when you disappeared and she
ordered
me to find you. You know, your mother can be very difficult to resist when she wants you to do something for her.’

‘Yes,’ said Hermione, ‘I know. I have caused her so much unhappiness. I don’t know why, I just couldn’t seem to help myself – being awful to her, I mean. I think it was the drugs. I just couldn’t think of anything else. I was a typical bored little rich girl, I suppose, selfish and horrible, so when Charlie Lomax introduced me to dope – cocaine mostly – it was terribly exciting. I did not realize, fool that I was, that you couldn’t just give up when you wanted. I was soon spending twenty or thirty pounds a week on the stuff and suddenly it wasn’t fun any more. If I couldn’t get my supply I was really upset.’

Hermione stopped and gestured to Edward to pass her the glass of water on the bedside table. As she sipped, Edward said, ‘Look, this is tiring you. Why don’t I come back in a day or two when you are a little better?’

‘No,’ she said urgently, reaching out for his hand. ‘I want to tell you now. I want to get it off my chest. You do understand, don’t you?’

Hermione suddenly looked very pathetic – ugly almost, but free of that hard, angry look which he had been used to.

‘Yes, I understand,’ Edward said softly. ‘Go on with what you were telling me.’

‘Well, by the time of that dinner-party at Mersham I was getting desperate. I owed Mr Lomax quite a lot of money. He had said he would not supply me with anything else until I had paid him, so we agreed that I would get him invited to Mersham where I would give him the money and he would give me my dope. He seemed pathetically eager to be invited to dinner with the Duke and the other bigwigs. I sold some jewellery because I couldn’t go to Mummy or my stepfather for more money without having to explain why I needed it. Then, when I got to Mersham, I was told that he wasn’t coming after all. My mother and my stepfather thought I was in love with him. Love!’ she said scornfully. ‘I hated him.

‘I was injecting my last shot of heroin into my arm when my mother came into my room and saw me. She did not understand what I was doing so, God forgive me, I told her. She begged me to give it up. I was horrible to her and said . . . and said . . .’ Hermione could hardly bear to continue but Edward did not interrupt her except to give her a little more water. He felt she needed to make her confession and he owed it to her to listen.

‘I said I loved it – the drug – more than I loved her. I said awful things about my stepfather – how he had never loved me and . . . and so on. I said I did not believe this girl Amy was his daughter, whatever he said. You know all about her, don’t you? Everyone does,’ she said bitterly. Her voice shook with pain and Edward stroked her hand, saying nothing. ‘I was very jealous and I think I really hated my stepfather for taking my mother away from me. I hated him for not being my father, I suppose, and I hated my father for being dead.’ She shivered and made an effort to pull herself together. ‘Anyway, as soon as I got back to London I made you take me to the Cocoanut Grove. I desperately wanted to see Lomax as well as hoping almost as desperately that I would not. As you know, I did see him and at first he did not want to have anything more to do with me. He said he had been warned off me – by my stepfather, I guess. He was frightened but in the end he agreed to take me back home with him. I said I would tell the police everything I knew about his dope-dealing if he didn’t. I was really desperate, you see. When we got to his horrible little house we . . . we both took a shot of . . . that stuff and I went off to lie on a bed and rest for the first time for ages. My nerves had been torn to shreds by not having anything to take but I guess I must have taken too much or else it was bad stuff – you often get sold bad stuff, you know,’ she said, looking appealingly into Edward’s face. ‘I went into a kind of coma, I think, because I don’t remember much more until I woke up here.’