Stone's Fall

'Do you not wish to know how much the bequest is?' I put in, as we seemed to be straying far from the point.

'I suppose I should; but I cannot see how it can be a great deal of money.'

'It depends on what you consider a great deal. It is £50,000.'

A total silence greeted this piece of information. Signora Vincotti grew deathly pale, almost as though she had just been told some devastating news. 'There must be some mistake,' she said eventually in a voice which was so quiet and so trembling it was difficult to make out.

'It seems not. I hope you will excuse our curiosity, but we are naturally interested in the reason for it. Lord Ravenscliff was an immensely wealthy man, but even by his standards this is a large sum.'

I was aware I was talking like a member of the Ravenscliff entourage, like some retainer. It made me uncomfortable in some ways, but I also noted a certain smugness in my mind as I spoke.

'I cannot help you at all, I really cannot,' she said, looking as though she might burst into tears at any moment.

'Was your father a rich man? Might they have been in business together?'

'I doubt it. I was always told he was very poor; quite unworldly. But not so unworldly that he did not provide for me.'

'And this inheritance. It was an annuity? It comes from an insurance company? A Venetian one? Italian?'

'No, no. An English bank.'

'Please do not take offence, but could you tell me how much this is for? It would help to gauge what sort of relationship your father might have had with Lord Ravenscliff.'

You see – I was also beginning to think like a man of money. Never before in my life would I have considered that income flow might help determine a man's relationships, but it was now beginning to come naturally, now I realised that, for some, it was the only thing which mattered.

'I receive a cheque four times a year from Barings Bank in London for £62.'

I calculated quickly, using my new-found financial sophistication. £62 a quarter was about £250 a year, which meant a capital sum of something around £6000. Hardly in Ravenscliff's league. His bequest meant that her income had just multiplied by eight. A fortune by English standards, and I guessed a vast fortune by Venetian.

'Signora Vincotti,' said Lady Ravenscliff. 'I would like to ask you an even more direct question. Please do not take offence, but it is essential that I know the answer.' She said it in a way which suggested she did not care one way or the other if the other woman did take offence. What was wrong with her? She really didn't have to try quite so hard to be rude.

Vincotti looked at her enquiringly.

'My husband travelled frequently to Venice. Sometimes I accompanied him, most times not. I have never really cared for Venice.' She paused for a moment. 'Let me put it bluntly. Was my husband the father of any of your children?'

Signora Vincotti stared in shock at the question, and I felt sure she was going to become angry, as she had every right to be. For a moment this was very nearly the case, but she was very much more intelligent than her thick-set, homely features suggested. She reached out and took Lady Ravenscliff's hand.

'Oh, I see,' she said gently. 'I see.'

Lady Ravenscliff snatched her hand away.

'Don't be annoyed with me, I mean no insult,' the Italian woman said softly. 'No. There is no possibility, no possibility at all, that your husband was the father of any of my children. None. If you saw them, and saw pictures of my husband as well, you would not have to take my word for it.'

'In that case, we need trespass on your time no longer,' Lady Ravenscliff said, standing up immediately. 'I am sure my lawyers will be in contact with you in due course. My thanks for your assistance.'

And with that she walked swiftly across the hotel lobby, leaving me – feeling thoroughly embarrassed by her appalling behaviour – to make amends as best as I could by saying goodbye in a more friendly fashion, and mutter about shock and grief. None of which was true.

Then I too hurried into the noise of Russell Square and found Lady Ravenscliff waiting for me, her face dark with anger.

'Appalling woman,' she said. 'How dare she patronise me? If her father was as vulgar as she . . . certainly there must be a physical resemblance. She looks like a bulldog in frills.'

'She conducted herself with a good deal more dignity than you did, even though she must have found the encounter very trying . . .'

'And it wasn't for me?' She turned around and confronted me for my mollifying remarks. 'You think everything was calm and easy for me? That discovering your dead husband has a child, having to deal with people like that—'

'I didn't mean—'

'You are not in my employ to see both sides of the argument, Braddock.'

'Mr Braddock. And in fact I am in your employ to do precisely that. You want me to discover the truth. Not to be partisan.'

'It's my money, and you are being paid. You will do as you are told.'