Page 8 of Copper Script
“Maybe you’ve caught him early, and we can pluck him before he ripens.What’s your interest?It’s not CID’s usual hunting ground.”
There was perhaps a bit of an edge to that, since the relationship between the uniformed division and CID tended to be prickly.“It’s not official interest at all.The fellow ruined my cousin’s engagement.”Aaron outlined Paul’s predicament.“I went to see what was what, and found him a bit too clever for my liking.But that was in a private capacity, of course, and as you say it’s not my area, so I thought I’d better bring him to your attention.”And that would teach Mr.Wildsmith to playact hisTell the police!scene.
“Fair enough,” Hollis said.“I’ll keep an eye out.How’s life in CID anyway?”
It was about as positive a result as Aaron could have hoped for, except for the news of Wildsmith’s proclivities.If the man knew who Aaron was—and he must, it was the only thing that made sense—and he was queer himself, and he’d come up with that business about self-control...
That didn’t add up to anything that made Aaron happy.His neck twinged.
He went back to see Paul that evening.“I’ve been following up your fellow.The graphologist.”
“I should hope so.I hope you plan to throw the book at him.”
“I need some information first.What exactly did he tell your fiancée ?”
“Oh, a lot of stuff he had no business saying.She lapped it up, of course.Really, Ronnie, women are—”
“What did he tell her?”Aaron repeated.
“Well, I’m not going to tell you,” Paul said, ruffled.“The point is, he wrapped her round his little finger, and that sort—”
“Was it true?”
Paul’s eyes widened.“That’s a damned offensive remark.Just because you’re a bobby, you don’t have to forget your manners.”
“I don’t know what he told her, but it seems to have hit a nerve with you, and it certainly did with your fiancée.So I am asking you, was it true?”
Paul’s mouth tightened mulishly.Aaron tried not to roll his eyes.“I’m not asking for fun.If this man is making up lies, he’s a charlatan, but if he’s digging out secrets and using them, then we’re looking at obtaining money by deception, and we might even have a blackmailer on our hands.So I’m going to ask you again.Was what he said factually accurate?”
“If you must,” Paul muttered.
“And what was it?I don’t care,” Aaron added.“I don’t give a damn: I just want an idea what this fellow is up to.”
“Oh, all right.You’ll keep it to yourself?He told Babs I had another girl.”
“That’s all?Nothing more specific?”
“Since you ask, he told her I’d been with a girl just before I wrote the letter.”
“Been with?”Aaron repeated blankly.
“You know what I mean.Or maybe you don’t,” he added snidely.“Gone to bed with.Like normal men do with girls.Do I have to draw you a picture?”
“He told her that you bedded a woman, and, what, wrote a letter to your fiancée as soon as you’d finished?And you’re saying that’s true?”
“You needn’t be so prissy,” Paul said.“It’s the nineteen twenties, you know.We don’t all have to behave like Victorians any more.”
“Rolling out of one woman’s bed to make plans for your engagement to another woman sounds more Georgian to me,” Aaron said.“If not Tudors—wait.Your engagement party was a costume ball?And you were going as Henry the Eighth?”
“Oh, don’t you start.Babs made a rotten fuss about that when she gave the ring back.Threw it at me, actually.”
Aaron didn’t blame her.“Are you positive Wildsmith made that specific accusation?You’re sure he didn’t say something likeYou were thinking of other women when you wrote, and you filled in the gaps?A guilty conscience can do that.”Not that Aaron saw much sign of a guilty conscience in Paul, but one never knew.
“Oh, no, Babs had it exactly,” Paul assured him.“She said she gave my letter to this fellow and he told her the writer had just been to bed with someone.Well, that’s why I admitted it.One thing if she’d saidIs there someone else, a man can handle that sort of conversation easily enough, but being told precisely what had happened threw me for a loop and I said something stupid likeHow did you know?Denied it after, of course, but it was too late by then.She didn’t take it well at all.Said it was bad enough that I couldn’t be trusted or what-have-you without some ghastly little oik telling her I’d written my letter with sticky hands.”
“He said that?”
“No, I think that part was Babs.”
