Page 7 of Copper Script
The papers had had a field day, of course.Probably one of the rags had reproduced a letter or some such: that might have been how Wildsmith had recognised the hand.From a newspaper photograph several years ago.
That was clutching at straws.Nonetheless it was, must be a trick, and he would find out how Joel Wildsmith had done it—how he’d known, and, as important, what he knew.And he’d do it carefully, because the man was a sufficiently brilliant confidence trickster to be positively dangerous.
He’d damn near persuaded Aaron with his first demonstrations, and he’d damn near got his liking as they’d talked.Aaron had wanted to argue more, had had all sorts of points to make and things to say.He’d felt like it would be enjoyable to thrash things out.He had in fact found the man remarkably easy to talk to: it was why he’d stopped.
Yes, Wildsmith was very good indeed.Why, when he’d read Molesworth’s letter, he’d gone quite grey, the blood visibly draining from his face.Even the greatest actors couldn’t do that on command.
Trick, Aaron thought again, and strode furiously down the road.
CHAPTER TWO
THREE DAYS LATER, AARONhad reached no brilliant conclusions.He had looked further into Mr.Joel Wildsmith, or rather, asked Sergeant Hollis to have an informal look for him, since he didn’t want to put Paul’s complaint through official channels quite yet.Hollis was in the uniformed branch, a solid rugby-playing sort with an unexpected speciality in mediums, palmists, and fortune-tellers.
“Graphology is a new one on me,” he admitted over a pint of Aaron’s buying.“Is there anything to it?”
“I couldn’t say.”According to Aaron’s hasty reading, such luminaries as Disraeli, Sir Walter Scott, and Robert Browning had believed in the power of graphology, but they were a pack of writers and not to be relied on for common sense.“I dare say one can draw some impressions from people’s handwriting, but not to the extent this fellow claims.”
“Mumbo-jumbo crystal ball stuff?Or is he the scientific type, and it’s all jargon?”
“Neither.Presents himself as a very plain, straightforward, normal sort of chap.”
“It’s a good trick if you can pull it off,” Hollis said.“Be a particularly good trick for this one: he’s a queer.”
Aaron took that in with a tiny judder of shock he hoped didn’t show.“Is that so?I wouldn’t have thought it.”
“Well, the magistrates certainly thought it.He was picked up for soliciting in a public convenience a couple of years ago.Did two months.”
That explained a certain amount of the attitude.“Hmph.Anything else?”
“Nothing I could find.Unremarkable war.Ambulance division in Flanders, invalided out in ’17.No other complaints against him.If he’s as good a fake as you say, he’s rather come out of nowhere.”
“Is that unusual?”
“The good ones tend to be splashy.You know, make a hit, get a clientele among the smart set, face in the papers, prices up.”
“He’s reached the smart set already,” Aaron said.
