Full Dark House(87)

‘Who, your directors? Your rivals?’

‘There are others who are closer.’ Renalda seemed about to speak further, but stopped himself.

‘We may be able to find enemies you can’t,’ May suggested. ‘But you have to tell us who you suspect.’

‘These are family affairs,’ said Renalda finally. ‘If you cannot protect my company, I will have to take care of the problem myself. I do not trust the officials of your government. They happily take my money and make promises, then do something else.’

May wondered if Renalda had bribed civil servants connected with the Lord Chamberlain’s office.



‘I think you’re right,’ he told his partner later. ‘Andreas Renalda isn’t telling us the whole truth.’

‘Perhaps we haven’t asked him the right questions,’ suggested Bryant. ‘I need to know more about his family.’

‘I can probably get the company records opened, but it’ll take a few days.’

‘I wasn’t thinking about the official records. I’m more interested in where Renalda grew up, what the rest of the family was like, what his neighbours thought of him.’

‘I don’t see how that will help,’ said May.

‘You don’t? No, I suppose you don’t. I’m sure I read somewhere that Andreas Renalda was raised on one of the smaller islands to the south, Santorini, I think. Interesting, isn’t it, that he chooses to honour his family with a play that mocks the mythology of his homeland? My uncle’s friend at The Times wrote an article about the Renalda empire, but when war broke out the piece was spiked. I have a feeling Renalda has been generous with his war donations.’

‘You still haven’t told me what’s on your mind.’

‘Be patient for just a little longer.’ Bryant knocked out his pipe and squinted into the bowl. ‘I have to be absolutely sure.’

‘Arthur, this has been an unusual week but even at the worst of times—’

Sidney Biddle put his head round the door. ‘There’s someone here to see you both.’

He pushed the door wide and DS Gladys Forthright walked in. Her hair had been dyed blond and cut in the style of the film star Alice Faye. Bryant leaped up from behind his desk and slapped his arms on the policewoman’s shoulders.

‘Forthright! Bless my old socks! What are you doing back here? You’re supposed to be getting hitched and living with the land girls.’

The sergeant pulled off her jacket and gloves, and threw them into a corner. ‘I had a bugger of a time getting here. The trains are up the spout. I slept in Chatham station last night.’ She sighed. ‘At least I didn’t get around to posting a wedding list. It would have been embarrassing having to send gifts back.’

‘What happened?’

‘He didn’t want to go through with it.’

‘The absolute bastard,’ cried Bryant, barely able to conceal the pleasure in his voice. ‘What reason did he give, if I may be so bold?’

‘Oh, the war, of course. He says it’s not right to be thinking about ourselves when there are so many in difficulties all around us. We shouldn’t bring babies into such uncertain times, et cetera. It was me who wanted to make us legal. I didn’t want to risk dying a spinster. We drove down to his parents’ on the last of his petrol, and I suppose I did talk about work quite a lot. We had a bit of a row, and finally came to an agreement. He promised not to mention his constabulary so long as I didn’t talk about the unit. But I couldn’t stay where I wasn’t needed, like some kind of evacuee. I rang the unit to explain and spoke to Mr Biddle. I wanted to warn you that I was coming back.’

‘He didn’t tell me,’ said Bryant indignantly.

‘That’s odd. How’s he working out?’

‘He’s not. Look at this, I’m making my own tea from reused leaves.’ He fished a half-dissolved sugar cube out of his mug with the pointy end of a dart. ‘We have to make one lump go around the whole unit because it’s against Biddle’s principles to buy black-market demerara. His trial period ends today, thank God. He wants to leave us and go back to the Met, and the feeling’s mutual. Here, I kept your mug just in case.’ He poured her half his tea.

‘Arthur, did you put him off?’

‘I bent over backwards to make him feel welcome, the ungrateful little sod.’

‘How’s the case?’ asked Forthright.

‘I’ll have to take you back, I suppose. Just until you can get yourself sorted out.’ Having answered an entirely different question, he turned to the window and warmed his hands round his mug, smiling to himself.