Part 3 (2/2)

'You said nothing of this to me.'

'If I told you about every acquaintance of mine with whom I have a disagreement then it would take up an entire week. Life is a process of constant change, Christopher. We learn to see through people. Friends.h.i.+ps fall off, antagonism takes over.'

'How antagonistic were you towards Signor Maldini?'

'Very antagonistic.'

'Could you give me more detail?'

There was a pause. 'I'd prefer not to.'

'But this is important,' said his brother. 'If I'm to help you, I need to be in possession of all the facts. I had no idea that there was any connection between you and the man they hauled out of the Thames. When I heard that you'd been arrested, I a.s.sumed that some grotesque error had been made.'

'It has!' Henry looked up at him in dismay. 'At least, I hope that it has.' 'Why did they issue a warrant against you?'

'Judicial spite.'

'They must have had some grounds for suspicion.'

'Witnesses had come forward.'

'Witnesses?' repeated Christopher, feeling anxious. 'What sort of witnesses?'

'Ones who were there at the time.'

'At what time? There's something you're not telling me, Henry.'

'I despised Maldini. I admit that freely.'

'Did you quarrel with him?'

'Several times.'

'And did you do so in public? In front of witnesses?'

Henry bit his lip. 'Yes,' he murmured.

'What was the nature of the argument?'

'It was a heated one, Christopher.'

'Did you come to blows?'

'Almost. His insults were too much to bear.'

'And how did you respond?' Henry put his head in his hands. 'Please,' said his brother, leaning over him. 'I must know. I came to Newgate in the confident belief that some appalling mistake had been made and that, when I'd spoken up for you, I'd be in a position to take you home or, at the very least, to set your release in train. Yet now, it seems, there were grounds for suspecting you. Is that true, Henry?'

'I suppose so.'

'Heavens, man! Your life may be at stake here. We need more than supposition.'

'It's all I can offer,' bleated Henry, looking up at him once more. 'For a number of reasons, there was bad blood between Jeronimo Maldini and me. It came to a head one evening when we had a chance encounter. His language was so vile that he provoked me beyond all endurance.'

'So what did you do?'

'I expressed my anger.'

'How?'

'I said something that, on reflection, I should not perhaps have said.'

'And what was that, Henry?'

'Does it matter?'

'It matters a great deal,' insisted Christopher. 'I've known you make incautious remarks before but never ones that might land you in a prison cell. Now let's have no more prevarication, Henry. What did you say?'

'I threatened to kill him.'

Christopher was staggered. It had never occurred to him for a moment that his brother was guilty of a crime serious enough to justify arrest and imprisonment. He knew his brother's defects of character better than anyone and a homicidal impulse was certainly not among them. Or so he had always believed. Now he was forced to look at Henry through very different eyes. Strong drink could corrupt any man and few indulged as frequently as his brother. Whole weeks sometimes pa.s.sed without his managing more than a few hours of sobriety. Such a life was bound to takes its toll on Henry. The thought made Christopher put a straight question him.

'Did you murder Jeronimo Maldini?' he asked.

'I don't know,' replied Henry with a forlorn shrug. 'I may have done.'

Word of the arrest spread throughout London with remarkable speed. Within a couple of days, it was the talk of every tavern and coffee house in the city. Since she had been there when the murder victim was found, Susan Cheever took a keen interest in the case and seized on every sc.r.a.p of information related to it. She was astonished to hear that Henry Redmayne was the chief suspect. Her father, an unforgiving man, was plainly disgusted.

'He should be hanged by his scrawny neck at Tyburn,' he announced.

'But he's not been convicted yet, Father,' she reminded him.

”The fellow is guilty. Why else would they arrest him?'

'There are all kinds of reasons. Mistaken ident.i.ty is but one of them.'

'We have been the victims of that, Susan.'

'What do you mean?'

'We took the Redmayne family for honourable men,' he said, gesticulating with both arms, 'and we were most cruelly deceived.'

'Not so, Father,' she rejoined with vehemence. 'Christopher Redmayne is the most honourable man I've ever met and his brother, Henry, can be quite charming when you get to know him.'

'I've no wish to know him, Susan.'

'At least, give him the benefit of the doubt.'

<script>