The Tomb of Zeus by Barbara Cleverly Read Free Book Online Page B

everyone by the shape of his head! Don't, Phoebe, present me as a dilettante! There is a point to what I've been doing. I'm preparing a paper which I'm hoping will be taken up by
Nature,
a paper which will have the courage to refute a quite barmy theory—a
dangerous
theory—that's sweeping unchecked through the capitals of Europe. Perhaps you are aware of the National Socialist movement in Germany, Laetitia?”
    Startled, Letty dropped her knife, and Gunning on her right silently bent to retrieve it.
    But George was not expecting an answer and swept on: “These thugs—what's the German for ‘thug,’ William?—are putting about the theory that there exists in central Europe a race of supermen, descended from a socalled Aryan' race. Well—fine—they're welcome to entertain us with their vivid imaginings, so long as the rest of the sane world may be allowed to shoot them down with clear evidence that the whole thing is a preposterous invention. But we're not to be allowed that academic freedom if they have anything to do with it—Nazis, they call themselves. And what really sticks in the craw is the inevitable corollary that if one race (of which they claim to be members, though you'd be looking for a long time before you'd spot a blond, blue-eyed giant amongst them) is superior—then all others must be inferior. This rancid theory condemns, by Nazi calculation, nine tenths of the population to oppression and slavery—to the dustbin of history.”
    Theodore coughed a warning. Phoebe wriggled with embarrassment at the outburst she had provoked in her stepson. Politics and passion were jarring notes at this very English dinner table. The swirling intrigues of the European capitals were kept well away from the shores of this sunlit island, Letty observed. Perhaps because it had problems enough of its own.
    Gunning lightly defused the tension. “Fighting oppression with a tape measure! Good man! We must all use whatever weapon comes to hand…Miss Talbot, I know, favours a Luger. But have you thought, George, that you could well be applying your skills and insight to a much worthier subject? Ancient Man! Now, I saw being unearthed this afternoon a skull—several skulls—which seemed to me to differ in some respects from the usual run. Long-headed, narrow facial features. Where on earth can they have sprung from? Perhaps tomorrow we might go and take a look?”
    The arrival of an orange trifle in an elaborate glass dish further raised the spirits. Theodore looked round the table, gathering murmurs of appreciation, noting that even Letty was spooning her way through the offering with evident enjoyment.
    “I fell in love with this dish in London,” he told her genially. “I was introduced to it by Waldorf Astor. Ah! If I close my eyes I'm transported back to Boodles, looking out over St. James's Park.” He paused, evidently savouring a Proustian moment, eyes half closed but trained on Gunning.
    “I think you mean Green Park, Theo. The Club at Number Twenty-four looks out onto Green Park,” said Gunning.
    Letty's attention sharpened. Something was going on that she didn't quite understand. Some undercurrent was running between the two men facing each other from opposite ends of the table. It was uncharacteristic of the suave and peaceable Gunning to contradict his host. And both men had got it wrong. You couldn't see either park from Boodles, Letty was quite certain of that. Not when she'd last looked. They were playing a game.
    “Yes, of course you're right, William. Very handy for old Waldorf—he and Nancy live quite close by, I remember. Number four, St. James's Square. Right-hand side. Wonderful house. Rather distinguished architect involved, I seem to recall…?”
    “Couldn't tell you who the original seventeenth-century architect was,” Gunning replied placidly, “but after it burned down it was rebuilt by Hawksmoor. I expect that's the name you're searching for, Theo? Jolly convenient place to park your