A Dangerous Fortune(136)

She would have stayed there forever, but he nodded to the cabbie and said: “Drive on.”

The man touched the horse with his whip, and the wheels turned.

A moment later Hugh was gone from her sight.

3

HUGH SLEPT BADLY that night. He kept waking up and running over his conversation with Maisie. He wished he had given in and gone home with her. He could be sleeping in her arms now, his head on her breasts, instead of tossing and turning alone.

But something else was bothering him, too. He had a feeling she had said something momentous, something surprising and sinister, the significance of which had escaped him at the time. It still eluded him.

They had talked about the bank, and Edward’s becoming Senior Partner; Edward’s title; Emily’s plan to seek an annulment; the night at Kingsbridge Manor when they had almost made love; the conflicting values of integrity and happiness…. Where was the momentous revelation?

He tried running over the conversation backwards: Come home with me…. People should grab happiness where they can…. Emily is about to ask Edward for an annulment…. Emily is Lady Whitehaven now…. Do you realize that if the title had gone to Ben Greenbourne, as it should have, Bertie would be in line to inherit it now?

No, he had missed something. Edward had got the title that should have gone to Ben Greenbourne—but Augusta had put a stop to all that. She had been behind all the nasty propaganda about whether a Jew could be a lord. Hugh had not realized that, although looking back he thought he should have been able to guess. But the Prince of Wales had known, somehow, and he had told Maisie and Solly.

Hugh turned over restlessly. Why should that be such a momentous revelation? It was just another example of Augusta’s ruthlessness. It had been kept quiet at the time. But Solly had known….

Suddenly Hugh sat up in bed, staring into the darkness.

Solly had known.

If Solly knew that the Pilasters were responsible for a press campaign of racial hatred against his father, he would never again do business with Pilasters Bank. In particular, he would have canceled the Santamaria railroad issue. He would have told Edward that he was canceling it. And Edward would have told Micky.

“Oh, my God,” Hugh said aloud.

He had always wondered whether Micky had something to do with the death of Solly. He knew Micky had been in the neighborhood. But the motive had always puzzled him. As far as he knew, Solly had been about to consummate the deal and give Micky what he wanted; and if that was right Micky had every motive for keeping Solly alive. But if Solly had been about to cancel, Micky might have killed him to save the deal. Had Micky been the well-dressed man quarreling with Solly a few seconds before he was run over? The coachman had always claimed Solly was pushed into his path. Had Micky shoved Solly under the wheels of that carriage? The thought was horrifying and disgusting.

Hugh got out of bed and turned up the gaslight. He would not go back to sleep tonight. He put on a dressing gown and sat by the dying embers of the fire. Had Micky murdered two of his friends, Peter Middleton and Solly Greenbourne?

And if he had, what was Hugh going to do about it?

He was still agonizing over the question the next day when something happened that gave him the answer.

He spent the morning at his desk in the Partners’ Room. He had once longed to sit here, in the quiet, luxurious center of power, making decisions about millions of pounds, under the eyes of his ancestors’ portraits; but now he was used to it. And soon he would be giving it up.

He was tying up loose ends, completing projects he had already begun but not starting new ones. His mind kept returning to Micky Miranda and poor Solly. It maddened him to think that a man as good as Solly had been done away with by a reptile and parasite such as Micky. What he really wanted to do was strangle Micky with his bare hands. But he could not kill him; in fact there was not even any point in reporting his beliefs to the police, for he had no proof.

His clerk, Jonas Mulberry, had been looking agitated all morning. Mulberry had come into the Partners’ Room four or five times on different pretexts but had not said what was on his mind. Eventually Hugh divined that the man had something to say that he did not want the other partners to hear.

A few minutes before midday Hugh went along the corridor to the telephone room. They had had the phone installed two years before, and they were already regretting the decision not to put it in the Partners’ Room: each of them was called to the instrument several times a day.

On the way he met Mulberry in the corridor. He stopped him and said: “Is there something on your mind?”

“Yes, Mr. Hugh,” said Mulberry with evident relief. He lowered his voice. “I happened to see some papers being drawn up by Simon Oliver, Mr. Edward’s clerk.”

“Come in here for a moment.” Hugh stepped into the telephone room and closed the door behind them. “What was in the papers?”

“A proposal for a loan issue to Cordova—for two million pounds!”

“Oh, no!” said Hugh. “This bank needs less exposure to South American debt—not more.”

“I knew you’d feel that way.”

“What is it for, specifically?”

“To build a new harbor in Santamaria Province.”

“Another scheme of Se?or Miranda’s.”

“Yes. I’m afraid that he and his cousin Simon Oliver have a great deal of influence over Mr. Edward.”