The Deeds of the Disturber - Elizabeth Peters [165]
If I had been the arrogant, conniving female some people believe me to be, I would have let him preserve his delusion, for it certainly gave me credit for almost superhuman omniscience. Instead I laughed and laid my head against his shoulder.
‘No, Emerson, I did not have the least idea. Not until this moment. But when you spoke of being knighted – well, there is only one individual in England who can bestow that honour. So the mysterious Indian was her intimate servant, the Munshi?’
‘Quite right.’ Emerson’s good humour was restored; he likes me to admit I was wrong, and he likes even more to have me put my head on his shoulder. ‘She summoned me, Peabody, after it was apparent that young Liverpool was deeply involved in an affair which might well end in a charge of murder. It was Cuff who gathered the evidence against him; and now perhaps you can forgive the good Inspector for concealing some of the facts, even after the case had been officially concluded. Like me, he was sworn to secrecy. Unlike me, he stands to lose a great deal if he breaks his word.’
‘It is not your fault, my dear. I nagged and bullied and scolded you.’
‘Quite right.’ Emerson grinned. ‘Since I have succumbed to your underhanded wiles and cruel threats I may as well tell you the rest of it; for in telling you, my dearest Peabody, I confide only in the better half of myself, and I know you will consider yourself bound by the same oath.’
‘Naturally, my dearest Emerson. And may I say how much I admire the jesuitical subtlety of your reasoning? It is worthy of Ramses at his best.’
‘Thank you, my dear. You mustn’t blame yourself for failing to follow Cuff’s deductions, since he had information you did not – to wit, a long dossier on the activities of Liverpool and his set. He knew Oldacre was one of them, and he also knew they were habitués of Ayesha’s establishment. Being fully aware of Liverpool’s illness and its symptoms, he came to the logical conclusion that Liverpool was a prime suspect in the murder case. But when he took his suspicions to his superiors he met with precisely the response experience had told him to expect: consternation and scepticism.’
‘And yet Cuff persisted? What a courageous thing to do.’
‘Well, not exactly,’ Emerson replied. ‘This country does suffer from a repellent infatuation with aristocracy; but to the eternal credit of British justice let it be said that neither rank nor title can save a man from the consequences of a criminal act. Cuff was told to proceed, but in strictest secrecy and alone, until he had obtained indisputable evidence of guilt. Naturally Her Majesty had to be told – warned – that Liverpool was in danger. She has, among other weaknesses less amiable, a sincere attachment to those related to her by blood; consideration for her feelings had spared the young man on a number of earlier occasions.
‘When I went to see Cuff on Monday last, after our visit to the opium den, I of course knew nothing of this, nor did he confide in me at that time. I wanted . . . Er, hem. I felt I ought . . .’
‘You wanted Ayesha’s address,’ I said calmly. ‘Never mind, Emerson. The past is buried in the grave of that unhappy woman. We will not refer to it again.’
‘Hmph,’ said Emerson. ‘Well, as it turned out, Cuff and I had a little discussion about the case, and afterwards he did me the honour of mentioning my name to Her Majesty. She sent for me and asked for my help in proving the young man innocent. She was in deep distress; for, though he had been guilty of a few indiscretions in the past (as the naïve lady put it) she could not believe a member of her family could commit such a vile crime.’
‘She is worse than naïve, she is rather stupid if she believes that,’ I remarked. ‘I can think of several instances –’
‘As can I, Peabody. However, her request was confounded flattering, and since I felt the Earl was too much of a weakling, mentally and physically,