The Quality of Mercy by David Roberts Read Free Book Online Page B

get a hundred yards’ start because Frank has the more powerful machine and much more experience than you. Good luck! Herr Mandl will start you when I wave to say I’m ready.’
    The drive was no more than three-quarters of a mile but to Edward it seemed quite long enough.
    With a little help from Mandl, the boys started their engines and waited for the signal. When it came, Harry wobbled away, gaining confidence as he gathered speed. They wore no helmets because the distance was hardly great enough for a serious accident but, as Frank accelerated and passed Harry, only just avoiding the Rudge Ulster as it swerved like a shying horse, Edward began to think the boys ought to have been encased in armour.
    Frank roared past Mountbatten, shouting and waving one hand in the air in triumph. Harry was only a few seconds behind, but, while trying to avoid the Harley Davidson which was now stationary in the middle of the drive, he veered off the road and bumped over the grass before coming to a halt some hundred yards away. Although he toppled over, there was no danger and Frank was soon helping him untangle himself from the bike. They both saw the man at the same time. He was lying on his back with one arm above his head as if he had been waving and had fallen to the ground with his hand still outstretched.
    ‘I say,’ Frank said, going over to him, ‘are you all right?’
    ‘Is he asleep?’ Harry asked doubtfully.
    ‘His eyes are open,’ Frank pointed out as he knelt beside the man. He tried to find a pulse but the flesh was cold and lifeless. ‘I think he’s dead.’ Lord Louis walked over to see what the matter was and Frank indicated the body. ‘I think the poor chap’s had it,’ he said, looking up at Mountbatten.
    ‘You mean . . .?’ Mountbatten, too, knelt beside the body. ‘He’s dead all right. Frank, ride back to the others and tell them to telephone for the police. We’d better not touch anything.’
    ‘Shouldn’t we try to revive him?’ Harry asked doubtfully. This was the first corpse he had ever seen.
    ‘Not even the Good Lord could raise this one,’ Mountbatten said abruptly.
    ‘Who is he?’ Frank asked. ‘Do you recognize him?’
    ‘Haven’t the foggiest. Never seen him before,’ Mountbatten replied. ‘I wonder what he died of. I can’t see any wound or anything. Must have had a heart attack.’
    ‘Perhaps if we turned him over,’ Harry said, excited now the initial shock was fading.
    ‘No, Harry, Lord Louis’s right,’ Frank said, grabbing his arm. ‘We can’t do anything for the poor chap so we’d better leave him for the police doctor to examine. I’ll buzz off back to the house. Golly! This’ll need some explaining.’

3
    ‘Thank God you’re safe! I’ve been worried sick about you.’
    They were in Edward’s rooms in Albany. Verity had refused to let him meet her off the train. She wanted first to go to her flat and compose herself – wash and lie on her bed staring at the ceiling, luxuriating in being free from fear for the first time in weeks. She had roused herself with some difficulty and thought about eating something but the idea made her feel sick and she lit a cigarette instead. Still in something of a daze, she opened her suitcase. She looked at the crumpled contents with loathing and considered throwing the whole thing out of the window.
    In the end she found a dress that she had left behind in her cupboard when she packed for Vienna. She showered and, feeling better, went out into Sloane Avenue, hailed a taxi and told the driver to take her to Fleet Street. When she left the New Gazette two hours later, the adrenalin which had enabled her to make a full report of her activities to Lord Weaver, her employer, was exhausted and she felt weak and desperately tired. She looked at her watch. It was six in the evening. She decided she needed a strong drink and a shoulder to cry on. She hailed a cab and had it take her to Piccadilly.
    ‘Have you, Edward?’ Verity