The Murders of Richard III - Elizabeth Peters [70]
He scowled at Jacqueline, who smiled back at him. Around a palm tree came James Strangways.
“There you are,” he announced triumphantly. “Wilkes said he thought he saw you heading for the conservatory. Though why the hell anyone would pick this place on a day like this…”
He glanced distastefully at the lush greenery. Thomas found himself warming to the man, in spite of the fact that he was looking far too bright and healthy. His sleek white head and erect body, clad in neatly pressed slacks and a blue shirt, made Thomas feel grubby.
“Jacqueline’s idea,” he said. “She was about to tell me—”
“Hm,” said Jacqueline loudly.
Strangways looked from one of them to the other. His wide-lipped, attractive smile warmed his lean face. “The identity of the criminal? Don’t let me interrupt. I’ve a few ideas of my own.” He sat down beside Jacqueline.
“So you think of him as a criminal,” Jacqueline said.
“I consider assault a criminal act,” Strangways said dryly. “That puts me in a minority in this madhouse, I know. I thought you two had a little more sense. That’s why I wanted to talk to you.”
“What about?” Thomas asked suspiciously. He sat down on Jacqueline’s left. There was barely room for the three of them.
“What about? A plan of action, naturally. We three are the only ones in the crowd who have our wits about us. Or don’t you agree with me that the situation is dangerous?”
“Yes,” Jacqueline said slowly. “I do.”
“Do you know the identity of the comedian?” Thomas asked.
Strangways looked at him without moving his head. The rolling eyes gave him a crafty expression. “It has to be one of two people,” he said finally. “I’m not sure which. And even if I were sure, I couldn’t prove it.”
“Who?” Thomas demanded.
“Uh-uh.” Strangways’s smile was not so attractive. “I’m not sticking my neck out. I’m in enough trouble as it is.”
“Then what do you propose we do?” Thomas asked. “My God, I’m tired of egotists,” he added.
“It’s very simple,” Strangways said. “The point of all these unpleasant activities is the letter. I didn’t believe in the letter to begin with, and I don’t now, especially after Weldon’s disclosure last night.”
“How biased can you get?” Thomas said angrily. “Dick is right, you are so hung up—”
Jacqueline regarded Thomas without affection over the tops of her glasses. “Who was it who was complaining about distractions and interruptions and extraneous comments?” she inquired.
“Oh, hell,” said Thomas.
“Let me finish,” Strangways said loudly. The last word echoed uncannily through the muggy air. “The letter is a fake. It was concocted by the character who planned the series of jokes. He is going to steal it and hold it for ransom. The jokes are merely a distraction. They focus our attention on the victims of the moment; while we stand around yelling at each other, the criminal will have his chance to steal the letter.”
“From Sir Richard’s safe?” Thomas demanded. “How?”
“You don’t suppose the letter is in the safe, do you?”
“But Dick said…” Thomas stopped. “Oh.”
“I can read Weldon like a book,” Strangways said arrogantly. “He thinks he’s Machiavellian, poor devil. He mentioned the safe to put us off the track. I’ll give you ten to one that he’s got his precious letter tucked away in some hiding place he innocently considers clever. I’ll also bet he keeps sneaking in and gloating over it. The criminal now has everybody so frantic, they don’t know what’s going on. He’ll play his last joke and snatch the letter. Well?” He turned to Jacqueline. “What do you think?”
“I think,” said Jacqueline calmly, “that your theory has so many holes, it leaks like a colander.”
Strangways’s face darkened. Thomas watched with interest. He had never seen the man so angry, even when his identity had been disclosed.
“Oh,” said Strangways in a stilled voice. “So you’re one of those.”
“One of what?”
“Liberated women. You have to degrade men to