The Deeds of the Disturber - Elizabeth Peters [109]
I was only forty minutes late. When he saw me, Gargery’s face went pink with pleasure. ‘Oh, Mrs Emerson, we were beginning to worry. The gentleman is here –’
‘Yes, thank you,’ I said, handing him my parasol and coat. ‘I will go right in.’
I don’t know who was more relieved to see me, Emerson or Mr Wilson. I knew why Emerson was relieved, and I guessed that Mr Wilson was glad to be freed from the relentless quizzing on Egyptology Emerson had been giving him. After greetings, apologies, and (on Emerson’s part) scowls had been exchanged, I said cheerfully, ‘I am late because I made a silly mistake, Mr Wilson. Somehow I got the notion that I was having tea with you, instead of the other way around. I waited for you for half an hour before I realized I must have been in error. Wasn’t that absurd?’
The only possible answer was ‘Yes, it certainly was,’ but since Mr Wilson could not in courtesy make it, he mumbled and grinned foolishly.
‘Humph,’ said Emerson, giving me a hard look. ‘Yes, it certainly was. You missed a very interesting discussion of the pottery of the early dynastic period at Quesir, Peabody. Mr Wilson was there two years ago. However, he doesn’t seem to remember –’
‘I am sorry I missed it, Emerson. However, if Mr Wilson doesn’t mind, I would like to speak of something else.’
Mr Wilson was quick to assure me he did not mind in the slightest.
‘I don’t apologize for introducing the subject, Mr Wilson, for the matter is becoming so serious it demands action. I want you to tell me all you know about Mr Oldacre.’
I had expected I would have to explain – for most people waste time in unnecessary discussion of the obvious – but Mr Wilson proved himself superior to most people. Leaning back in his chair, he smiled faintly. ‘I see. I am sorry to disappoint you, Mrs Emerson, for I believe I understand your reasons for raising the subject, and I am in complete sympathy with them. But I knew Oldacre only slightly. He was not the sort of man who could ever be a close friend of mine. Perhaps if you were to ask me questions –’
‘Excellent,’ I said crisply. ‘I like the way your mind works, Mr Wilson. Was he a user of drugs?’
‘Not to my knowledge,’ was the prompt response. ‘It would not surprise me to learn that he dabbled in them – it is the fashionable thing to do in some circles – but he showed none of the signs of the habitual user.’
‘You don’t know, then, whether he visited an opium den?’
‘He would hardly have invited me to accompany him to such a place,’ was the smiling answer.
‘Who were his friends – his intimates?’
Wilson mentioned a few names, all of which were unfamiliar to me, adding, ‘As I have said, I was not a close friend of his. I would be unlikely to know –’
‘Yes, quite. What about Lord St John?’
Wilson laughed. He was quite a nice-looking young fellow when he was at ease, as he was then; his teeth were white and even, and his features finely cut. ‘If his lordship had anything to do with Oldacre, it would not be as a friend. He has a keen sense of social position, does Lord St John.’
‘No doubt you are right. Well, then, you have nothing to suggest? Bad habits, debts, gambling, women?’
Wilson looked a little startled. ‘As to women . . . I hardly like to mention the subject in the presence of a lady . . .’
‘Ah, I understand. Fallen women, is that it?’
‘Er – yes. Only the usual thing, you know . . .’
‘Hmph,’ I said.
‘Oh, quite, Mrs Emerson. I myself would never . . . As for other habits – yes, he gambled; he was always bragging about being a guest at one exclusive club or another, and I know he often lost heavily – for he bragged about that too, as if it were something to be proud of. And I have seen him show the effects of overindulgence. But really, you know, it is no more than most young fellows do.’
‘How true –