A Bedlam of Bones by Suzette Hill Read Free Book Online

‘distressing really. Not what one wants at my time of life – especially with the possibility of this new appointment in the offing.’ (The appointment involved being a sort of supplementary aide to the Archbishop of York; a post, I gathered, that entailed few duties but much prestige. Clinker had been angling for it for some time, and it was one of the reasons why he had been so desperate to hush up the recent French shamozzle. His chances were good, the only rival being a fellow bishop, Percival Crawley, whom Clinker detested. To lose the post would be painful, but to lose to ‘Creep’ Percival intolerable.)
    ‘If I can be of any help …’ I began reluctantly.
    He sighed heavily. ‘I doubt it – I just thought you might have heard from Ingaza. Are you sure he hasn’t said anything?’ I shook my head, and he looked perplexed. ‘Hmm – perhaps he can’t have been approached yet.’
    ‘Approached about what?’
    ‘Blackmail,’ he muttered, almost inaudibly. I gazed in astonishment. ‘Good Lord! You mean you are being blackmailed, sir? But who on earth by?’
    ‘The blackmailer , of course. And keep your voice down!’ He ground out the cigarette on his desktop, burnt his finger and winced.
    ‘I see,’ I said slowly. ‘And what does Mrs Clinker say?’
    ‘Gladys? What are you talking about, Oughterard! She doesn’t say anything – she doesn’t know. It’s hardly the sort of thing we might discuss at the breakfast table! Oxford before the war may be a long time ago now, but even so, you surely don’t imagine that I would confide—’ He broke off and started to scrabble through an address book. ‘Where is that confounded man’s number?’
    I studied him, things falling into place: Nicholas Ingaza and Oxford pre-war. Oh my hat! And after all this time … They were both being got at! So that was it: the younger Clinker’s momentary lapse, an absurd whimsical indiscretion and quickly eclipsed by Gladys and the respectable tentacles of the Church. Surely nobody could be on his tail now ! And what about Nicholas? Who on earth would want to dig up that particular passing episode when there must have been so many scurrilous antics since, not to mention the infamous Turkish Bath incident? * He had done time for that. So who was wanting to pursue him now? Surely it was all yesterday’s news … On the other hand, I reflected grimly, Ingaza’s bathtime high jinks might be old news – but not the bishop’s gaffe. That could be dynamite!
    ‘How much?’ I said to Clinker.
    ‘What?’
    ‘How much money do they want for their silence?’
    ‘Don’t know,’ he replied shortly. ‘It’s not been mentioned.’
    ‘But presumably it will be.’
    He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Yes, yes, I imagine … But it’s not the money as such, it’s just the – it’s just the ghastliness of it all! That letter was brazen, taunting. It really made me feel so—’ He broke off and stared at me intently. ‘Of course, I’m forgetting. You wouldn’t know about it, would you?’
    I hesitated. ‘Well, I did rather gather from Eric, Ingaza’s friend—’
    ‘Suppose you’re going to ask me to enlarge,’ he cut in bitterly, ‘all the damn details. Shouldn’t have called you over here really, stupid of me … Still, it will probably all surface sooner or later. Oh my God …’ He got up abruptly, scattering papers, and stumbled to the window where he stood chewing a pencil and scowling at the beating rain. Tricky.
    I cleared my throat and said mildly, ‘Think I’ve got the gist of things, sir. A minor aberration years ago. Small matter between you and Nicholas – no great shakes, water under a bridge really …’
    He whirled round. ‘ No great shakes! That’s hardly the idiom I would use! I suppose that’s how he described it. Typical. You do realize the matter is an indictable offence, Oughterard! Not on the scale of Ingaza’s later shocking tomfoolery, I grant you, but an offence all the same. If