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to say something else, but he stopped himself.

      ‘Who will rid me of this turbulent priest,’ Will said, a quirky smile playing around his mouth.

      Neville glanced at him then said softly, ‘I knew we would hear that before long.’ Turning to Amos, Neville added, ‘Perhaps we can find a way to persuade Aubrey Masters to cease. He must be made to understand he can’t speak ill of people and most especially Oliveri here.’

      ‘I will certainly try, sir.’ Amos looked doubtful as he said this.

      ‘To my last and perhaps most important discovery,’ Alfredo announced, looking from Neville to Ned, and began in a low, confiding voice, ‘I think I’ve found out what’s wrong with the mines…what your father discovered, too, Mr Edward.’

      The room went quiet. No one spoke. No one moved. Everyone was waiting for Alfredo’s words.

      ‘Somebody is stealing the product from the mines, skimming diamonds, emeralds and gold. Or money off the top.’

      ‘But who?’ Ned asked, incredulity echoing in his voice.

      ‘In my opinion it could be the local managers,’ Alfredo answered him.

      ‘They wouldn’t dare!’ Neville exclaimed. ‘Or would they?’ His eyes narrowed slightly, and he threw Alfredo a pointed look. ‘Unless they had approval from the head office…located on the Strand. A partner in Deravenels?’

      ‘That was my guess.’ Alfredo nodded. ‘And Rob Aspen agrees with me. I’d been working late last week, and so had he; that was when he actually drew my attention to discrepancies he was finding. I knew at once what this meant. I gathered he did, too, had had the same idea. Anyway, I asked him not to reveal this to Masters, or to anyone else. At least for the moment.’

      ‘Why?’ Ned asked, and then swiftly added, ‘I understand, don’t bother to answer my stupid question. If the other side finds out we know about the discrepancies, they’ll try to cover them up. Somebody in London is running this scheme.’

      ‘Precisely.’ Alfredo gave Ned a knowing smile.

      ‘So we’re not going to deal with it until we’re running Deravenels ourselves, later in the summer,’ Neville announced. ‘Let’s leave this matter in abeyance for the moment. And move on. Finnister informed me several days ago that he now has in his hands all of the records from the insane asylums, where Henry Grant was sequestered a number of times. Let’s hear about it, Finnister.’

      ‘Mr Watkins told you the most important part of my story,’ Amos began. ‘We are indeed in possession of the records. They are very detailed and extremely useful. I have hired a well-known doctor to look at these records, study them, and give a written report on what they mean. In other words, how will Henry Grant behave over the next few years? Is he on the brink of going totally mad? Is he already suffering from dementia? What are his chances of survival? And finally, is he capable of running a company such as Deravenels?’

      ‘I think the doctor will have no problem giving you the best written opinion there is, and no doubt it will be the kind of opinion which will serve us best.’ Neville threw Amos a questioning look.

      ‘You are right, sir. The doctor I engaged, Mr Rupert Haversley-Long, is a specialist, a psychiatrist who has been a colleague of the famous Dr Sigmund Freud.’

      ‘I have no fears he will do the job perfectly,’ Neville murmured. Rising, Neville continued, ‘Let us all go into the dining room. We will be able to discuss everything further over an apéritif before we partake of lunch.’

      The others rose and followed Neville out of the library.

      Ned said to Alfredo, ‘Don’t worry, old chap, we’ll neutralize Aubrey Masters in some way or other. We can’t lose you, we especially need you here in London these days. Permanently.’

      ‘I agree. When are you returning to the office?’

      ‘On Monday morning. The hospital gave me several examinations this past week, and everything is apparently quite normal. In my opinion, they’ve been overly cautious, but my mother insisted on these extra tests and I don’t think even Dr Robertson had the nerve to contradict Cecily Deravenel.’

      Alfredo smiled. ‘I know what you mean. There’s no one quite like your formidable mother. Anyway, she was right. Head wounds can be dicey, very dicey indeed.’

       TWENTY-FOUR

      Lily stood in the centre of the drawing room in Vicky Forth’s Kensington house, turning her head, taking everything in, a delighted smile on her face. ‘It’s absolutely beautiful, Vicky,’ she said at last. ‘But then you’ve always been so clever in the way you decorate your homes.’

      Vicky’s eyes lit up, and she exclaimed, ‘Oh, I’m so glad you like it. To tell you the truth I’ve been a little bit worried, wondering if it was all too—pale.’

      Walking over to Vicky, who was still standing in the doorway, Lily said emphatically, ‘Not too pale at all…the room is perfect, in fact I love the way you have mixed all of these different creams and whites together, and the touches of green and lilac are charming.’

      ‘It’s not too feminine?’

      ‘Of course it isn’t. Anyway, the antiques are dark, and help to give the room exactly the right balance.’

      ‘I just pray that Stephen’s going to like it.’

      ‘I know he will,’ Lily reassured her best friend, and then asked curiously, ‘And when is he getting back from New York?’

      ‘In a week. He had to go to San Francisco unexpectedly, and that delayed him, but his business has gone well, and he’ll be sailing from New York in a few days. I can’t wait to see him, it’s been ages.’

      ‘I know what you mean,’ Lily murmured, and walked slowly across the room, went and sat down on a plump curving love seat upholstered in pale apple-green damask. As she settled back against the lilac and apple-green silk cushions, she said, with another glance around, ‘The flowers are lovely, Vic, you’ve managed to create a feeling of spring here today.’

      ‘Thank you, darling.’ Vicky took a seat in a chair next to Lily, and looking at her intently, she asked, ‘Have you told Ned?’

      Lily shook her head. ‘No, not yet. I only saw him once last week, after he came out of the hospital, and I felt it wasn’t quite the right time. But I am going to tell him, please don’t worry.’

      ‘Good. I’m glad. Now, you’ll be interested to hear that I’ve found a charming house quite near us in Kent. I think it’s lovely and not too big, and I was hoping you could come down to see it with me on Monday or Tuesday, before Stephen arrives in London.’

      ‘Oh, Vicky, darling, how wonderful! I’d love to,’ Lily cried, turning to her friend, beaming at her. ‘To tell you the truth, I’ve been thinking about moving from Belsize Park Gardens. Moving to a house I saw in South Audley Street, in Mayfair.’

      ‘I see. I hope you’re not taking on too much, in your condition, I mean.’

      Lily laughed. ‘I really feel wonderful. Very fit and healthy, and it’s only the awful morning sickness getting me down at the moment. Also, the house in Mayfair is not large—compact really, yet very adequate for me, the child and a small staff. I just hate the idea of Ned being stranded the way he was in Belsize Park when he was attacked. I need to be in the West End.’

      ‘I understand.’ Vicky fell silent for a few seconds, and then, leaning towards Lily, she asked in a quiet voice, ‘You do plan to keep the baby, don’t you?’

      ‘Oh yes, I could never give it up! Why, it’s part of me and Ned. I might tell him today, Vicky, then I might not. But please be assured that when I do I will explain

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