Stone's Fall

'I thought you might show up at some stage,' he said cheerfully, 'but not quite so quickly. Have you made some great discovery you wish to tell me about? I hope it is something we can print, rather than being merely salacious. Have you discovered what is to become of us?'

'I'm afraid I have little but questions,' I replied, 'although I can tell you that the Chronicle will be in the hands of the executor until the will is settled, which may take some time.'

'Yes. I thought as much. Then it goes direct to Lady Ravenscliff, I imagine?'

'Maybe. It all seems quite complicated at the moment.'

McEwen was not used to employees – even former employees – being cagey with him. He frowned in displeasure, so I hurried on. 'I thought you could tell me in a few seconds things it might take me days to discover on my own. I have made little progress since I saw you. Except to become more confused.'

'In what areas?'

'Just about every single one. I have learned some things about his death, as you suggested I do. I have established that the companies were in good health. Unfortunately, I do not see how it assists me in any way.'

'I didn't think it would,' he said. 'I merely wished to satisfy my own curiosity on the matter.'

'Why?'

'Oh, call it the instincts of an old newspaper man, if you wish. What have you discovered?'

'Only that quite a lot of people became somewhat agitated the moment he dropped out of the window. There was a man called Cort, for example . . .'

McEwen's eyes narrowed, and he became more attentive.

'Cort?'

'Ah,' I said. 'You may remember him. Lady Ravenscliff said he worked as a journalist on The Times once. Did you know him?'

He stood up, and walked to the window, tapping his foot as he always did when thinking. Eventually he turned round and faced me.

'I'm very sorry, Braddock,' he said. 'I have been extremely foolish, and reckless on your behalf.'

'But why? What's the matter? Who is this man?'

'Indeed. How does he come into a routine biography commissioned by a grieving widow?'

He was looking at me shrewdly, and I could see that I would get nothing out of him without giving something in advance. He was genuinely worried and I was touched by his concern. But he was a newspaperman through and through, nonetheless. Information was food and drink to him.

'It's not a biography,' I said eventually. 'That's not what she wants me to do. She wants me to find out the identity of Ravenscliff's child.'

He raised an eyebrow. 'I see. And Cort?'

'Was one of the first at the scene of his death, and I think may have suppressed the news of it for three days.'

'Oh,' he said softly.

'Oh what?' I was fearful. It was based on nothing, just the way he had said it – apprehensive, almost alarmed; certainly surprised, even shocked. 'What's the matter? What is all this?'

'We received a request from the Government not to run the news immediately, as did every other newspaper. We agreed, as the health of Ravenscliff's businesses is a matter of national interest. Besides, we were assured it was merely to stop an unnecessary panic on the markets. I thought there might be more to it, hence my recommendation of you, so I might have a man on the inside, so to speak, but I never realised it might be that serious.' He stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked at the carpet as he did when thinking fast, then looked up at me once more. 'Write to her, and say you are sorry, but this job's not for you.'

'What? But it was your idea!'

'I know. But this is not idle journalism, hanging around the law courts and police stations. This is not the sort of thing you should get involved in.'

'You're being melodramatic. What on earth is bothering you?'

'What do you know about Henry Cort?'

'Very little,' I said firmly. 'There doesn't seem to be much to know. He was a journalist; he appears to be a gentleman of leisure of moderate means. He knew Lady Ravenscliff many years ago; and he was on the scene in some capacity shortly after Ravenscliff died. There was a reference to FO, but I don't know what it means. Certainly not the Foreign Office, as he is not listed. I looked,' I concluded lamely.

'Yes, well. As you say, you know very little.'

'So tell me more. You clearly know something.'

'Only if you promise to give due consideration to my recommendations.'

'I will,' I said stoutly. But I don't remember whether I meant it.