‘Fretful.’
‘Yes, it was surveillance,’ Harpur said.
‘Anyway, the girls might not be sleeping well. They’d be puzzled if they came in and smelled mud.’
Of course, he could have explained the mud, but he didn’t want to make things sound chancy, even dangerous, and, in any case, he’d rather not waste his breath and concentration on words now. He and Iles had stayed at the Monty funeral shindig until just before midnight. Then Harpur drove Iles home to Idylls, his house in Rougement Place. ‘What would you say was the most interesting feature of this evening, Col?’ Iles had asked.
‘This would depend on viewpoint, sir.’
‘Of course it would depend on fucking viewpoint. That’s what I’m asking for – your viewpoint.’
‘You’ll have your own viewpoint, I expect, sir.’
‘Yes, I have my own viewpoint and I’d like to know whether my viewpoint is the same as your viewpoint, which, if so, would suggest these viewpoints are probably the right viewpoints in that they confirm each other. We’ll, as it were, pool our viewpoints. Would that upset you, having your viewpoint commingling with mine?’
‘Ah,’ Harpur said,’I –’ ‘Exactly,’ Iles said. ‘The meeting between Ralph, Articulate and the two women.’
‘I saw the meeting between Ralph, Articulate and the two women as a very interesting feature. That is, from my viewpoint.’
‘In which respect interesting?’ Iles said.
‘I certainly noticed them in conversation.’
‘Yes, well, as Naomi said, if people are in a club together some conversation is to be expected.’ ‘She’ll be a real asset to Manse, pointing out the obviousnesses.’ ‘I thought the women with Articulate Max looked full of big-time purpose,’ Iles said.
‘He’s always been dominated by them.’
‘But it’s Articulate who has the money now, yes?’
‘If rumours about the bank raid are right.’
‘Articulate might have the money but Rose Misk and great aunt Edna would want to say how it’s spent, because Articulate is – because Articulate is the way he is, a nonentity, entirely unused to boodle on a possibly, probably, considerable scale.’
‘Or was.’
‘Shrewd, Harpur.’
‘If he helped lift the International Corporate Diverse Securities treasure it might have done something for his personality.’
‘What might be called “a rite of passage”. That’s why I say the conversation with Ralph is the crux of the evening.’
‘In which respect, sir?’
‘Some deal with Ralph proposed by the women?’
‘Ah, yes. They need his help? We think Ember does some laundering of ill-gottens. It’s subtly handled. So far the actual evidence is thin.’
‘In my position, I have to see beyond the blatant, the trite, Col.’
‘You’re famed for that, sir. People say to me, “That Mr Iles, he would never be satisfied with the blatant and/or trite.”’
‘To me, those women looked set on something considerable, something magnificent, something, perhaps, grandiose.’
‘Property? Ralph probably has estate agent contacts who don’t quibble about accepting dubious cash, for a special commission – and I mean fat cash in cash form.’
‘Always you reach for the banal, Harpur.’
‘I’m famed for it, sir. When I introduce myself, people say, “Harpur? Harpur? You must be the one who always reaches for the banal.” It’s a real ice-breaker.’
‘By “full of big-time purpose”, I meant elevated purpose. Ralph Ember may be part of that elevated purpose.’
‘Ralph has some good sides to him.’
‘Perhaps these two women want to help him emerge,’ Iles said.
‘From where to where, sir?’
‘From the Monty to the new, dignified, reputable, exclusive, magnificent Monty.’
‘Back his sad, mad plans for the club?’ Harpur asked.
‘Back his sad, mad plans for the club. What was it Oscar Wilde said, Col?’
‘This will be another of those books you had your head stuck in as a child.’
‘“We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.” That’s Ralphy. The women think they can help him get out of the gutter by freshening up the Monty project with their funds.’
‘Their funds? Is Articulate going to agree to that?’ Harpur said. ‘He’s earned that loot. Not a pushover. I know he is, or was, dim and a doormat but –’
‘Articulate looked as if he loathed the idea – if that was the idea on the table. I’m guessing, Harpur. I’m not infallible.’
‘I’ve heard people say your guessing is not infallible but wondrous nonetheless. This was one of the phrases that has remained in my mind, “wondrous nonetheless”.’
‘Which people? Did they all say “wondrous nonetheless”? It would sound like a put-up job if so.’
‘You think great aunt Edna and Rose will browbeat Articulate?’
‘They might try. That’s supposing Ralph would touch their money. Articulate and the women are the kind of members he wants to kick out as a condition of turning the club into the new, dignified, reputable, exclusive, magnificent Monty. He’s not going to welcome them as partners.’
‘Ralph can be fussy.’
They drew up at Iles’s house. ‘What we have to think, Col, is that Articulate himself may have emerged, as you hinted. I certainly don’t dismiss all your attempts to analyse a situation.’
‘Thank you, sir.’
‘Anyone could see – and I include you in this, Col – anyone could see that if it’s true Articulate helped at ICDS he’s lived through big hazard, even possibly shown big skills. He’s had a victory. Yes, perhaps he feels he’s somebody at last. He’ll want to keep on being somebody. He’ll know he won’t do that by throwing his cash at Ralph and the Monty
pipedream. He might try something else, though.’
‘What kind of thing, sir?’
‘We ought to keep an eye on Articulate, Col.’
‘In which respect, sir?’
‘Oh, yes. Possible crucial developments there, Col.’ Iles climbed out of the car, waved, disappeared into Idylls. If Iles forecast crucial developments, there would most probably be . . . crucial developments. Harpur had sat for a while outside the house thinking. Then he drove back to the Monty. It was just before 1.30 a.m. The club would still be open. He wanted to see if discussions between Ralph, Articulate and the women had resumed. Perhaps he – Harpur – could come up with supposed insights the way Iles had, or even do some eavesdropping: that would be more in his workaday line.
But as he approached the Monty he saw an old Mercedes enter the car park, and Articulate get out and hurry into the club. He and the women must have left earlier. Now, it looked as if Articulate was returning alone. This seemed to endorse Iles’s non-infallible guesswork, though Harpur couldn’t have said exactly how. He kept going and parked out of sight around the corner from Shield Terrace, then returned on foot. Articulate had found wisdom and not ostentatiously blown some of the bank money on a new car, supposing he really had a slice of the bank money. Or the two women had imposed wisdom.
Harpur realized he must switch tactics. It would be too obviously a spy ploy if he actually went into the club now and found Ember and Misk in one-to-one conversation. Road works were under way opposite the car park. A reasonably deep hole had been left overnight, surrounded by red and white warning barriers. Harpur climbed in. The mud felt moist, but not impossible. His feet rested on a hefty piece of piping. Water? Drainage? Gas? Telephone lines? He crouched. Dugouts must have been something like this in the First World War. What was that saying his father had told him the troops used then? ‘If you know a better ’ole you go to it.’ Harpur didn’t know of a better ’ole, for now. From his chosen spot he could se
e the Monty door into the car park and observe all movement. There wasn’t any, until, just before 2 a.m., Articulate came out and went to his vehicle. Harpur crouched lower and tried to merge with the mud when Articulate’s headlights made an arc as he drove away. Yes, like being under star shells on the Western Front in 1916.
Harpur had climbed out of his cover then, gone home, and, instead, climbed into bed. ‘Surveillance.’
Chapter Ten
When Manse’s fiancée, Naomi, turned up on her own next afternoon at the club looking for Ralph he felt damn surprised at first. Although women at Monty functions would often seriously embarrass Ember by coming on at him in what he considered foolishly intense, hungry style, he couldn’t recall any of that from her yesterday, just lively, plain chat, plus persistent, sometimes tactless questions.
‘Naomi!’ he said. ‘Alone?’
‘Is that all right?’
‘All right?’
‘I’m not a Monty member, am I? Yesterday, I was a member’s guest and therefore persona grata.’
‘We’ll stretch a point.’
Oh, yes, Ralph did suffer terribly from eager women. The club might not yet be entirely as he wished, but its ambience obviously tickled the mainspring of certain female guests and members, particularly at major festivities such as to honour territory grabs, or mark burials or cremations, or celebrate court victories. Special functions seemed to stir hormones. In addition came what Ember regarded as the bizarre fascination with his jaw scar, plus that idiotic, tedious business of the undeniable resemblance to Charlton Heston as Chuck used to be, and possibly an improvement on him: Ralph thought the boniness of Heston’s face might be slightly too much, and his own face, fortunately, did not suffer from this. But, of course, Ralph did deny knowledge of any resemblance if it was mentioned to him, or he might have seemed grossly, coxcombly vain, a quality he considered quite against his nature.
These factors combined apparently gave him a special sexual attractiveness, which, added to what could be called ‘the Monty effect’, seemed to rally some women’s blood and lavishly boost appetite.
‘I think you’ll come to see why I couldn’t bring Mansel,’ Naomi said.
To Ralph, this seemed a pretty fast approach, even viewed alongside some of the fast approaches he’d grown used to. Naomi obviously had dash. On the whole, Ralph approved of dash in women, as long as it was backed up by appearance, of course. ‘The Monty effect’, as he termed it, came from the fact that he ran and owned the club and therefore had a position of masterfulness and eminence. Women always went for that sort of thing. Although their enthusiasm could be a drag for Ralph, he tried to put up with it, even when they were old and/or ugly and/or unspruce. As Monty proprietor, regardless of its present state, he felt he had an absolute duty of respect and politeness to all members however crummy and/or monstrous. He thought of it as like noblesse oblige.
This was why he had joined the Misks when Rose called him over so blatantly. In Ralph’s experience women these days could become blatant. Also, he’d wanted the talk with Alec, and couldn’t seriously think that someone of Rose’s age would still be touting for it in a public place, although the elderly, desperate ones could sometimes be the worst. His reasoning had turned out OK, even if the proposal she and Edna did put was just as unacceptable to Ralph in its own comical, big-headed way.
He spotted no signalling from Naomi yesterday, though, and Ralph considered himself extremely sensitive to women’s cries from the heart and so on, even when discreetly concealed. But, then again, he’d naturally looked for nothing like that from Naomi. Good God, how could he possibly have expected such an approach? This woman was to marry Mansel in a full church ceremony very soon. Her focus would be exclusively and wholeheartedly on him, wouldn’t it, for heaven’s sake? Many might find this incomprehensible, even sickly, but it must be the case, mustn’t it? The fact that Manse lacked altogether an intriguing jaw scar, and also lacked any resemblance to the young Heston, or to the young, glamorous anyone else, need not affect her commitment to him, surely. Luckily for Manse, beauty of face and physique was not the only desirable quality.
Of course, Ralph had been the first to offer Naomi gallantry by disposing of Unhinged when he made his lunge for her neck. Manse’s response came only later. Almost too late and, in any case, redundant. Also, rather crude: knuckledusters suggested thuggery, whereas the Kressmann armagnac bottle had class and possibly wit. Ralph could imagine Unhinged might experience a kind of pride at being felled by the Kressmann. Probably Naomi felt a special thankfulness to Ralph. He understood thankfulness and would accept it, though in an offhand, say-no-more-please fashion. He hated to have too much fuss made of his accomplishments. Ralph did not mind tall, thinnish, frank, argumentative women too much as long as they had looks, decently curvaceous arses to counter the thinness, and some idea of fashion. But there’d clearly be health concerns after Manse.
‘A drink?’ he said.
‘I get scared, Ralph.’
He thought she sounded puzzled rather than afraid. ‘Unhinged – that’s to say, Humphrey – can become a little ungovernable,’ he said. ‘His mind – his so-called mind – goes its own way. But you dealt with that unpleasantness well. You certainly didn’t look scared. Capable, in fact – flung into an unpredictable, seesawing situation, yet markedly unfazed. I’d imagine Mansel was proud of you.’
‘Oh, yes ... Mansel ... well ...’ She made her face expressionless. Not everybody could do that when talking about Shale. Ralph waited for her to finish, but she didn’t. He tried to guess at the rest of it. Oh, yes . . . Mansel . . . well, he doesn’t throw praise around. Oh, yes . . . Mansel . . . well, he was so concerned about the foxes and stoats nuzzling Turret he didn’t know much else until almost too late. Oh, yes . . . Mansel . . . well, Mansel is Mansel and who knows what he’s thinking? Ember could have agreed with that. Who did know Manse’s thoughts, besides himself? And when, sometimes, he tried to describe them he came over unintelligible. Ralph doubted whether Manse genuinely worried all that much about the foxes and stoats nosing into Turret. After all, Manse had probably dropped Turret there dead, or had him dropped there dead, careless of whether he got nuzzled.
‘Actually, I didn’t mean scared of Unhinged Humphrey,’ she explained. ‘But, obviously, I’m in your debt for the vintage armagnac thumps on him.’
‘Routine.’
‘Really?’
‘Oh, yes.’
‘So swift. So decisive.’
‘Necessarily.’
‘Manse told me some call you “Panicking Ralph” or “Panicking Ralphy” because they felt let down by you in crisis circumstances. But this must, absolutely must, be a slander. I saw nothing like that – nothing panicky – the opposite, indeed – and Unhinged with his fingers on my neck could be called a crisis circumstance, I believe.’
Oh, thanks, Mansel, you big-mouthed Pre-Raphaeliteloving, grammar-mincing fucker. All right, Ember would acknowledge that now and then he did suffer those more or less disabling, pathological panic symptoms – loss of limb power, sweats, the fear that his mesmeric jaw scar had opened up and begun to weep something lurid and unspeakable. There’d been a few bad episodes long ago during tense team jobs on security vans and so on, yes, and word travelled: that malicious nickname went around, he knew, though nobody but this blunt bird and Turret would use it to his face, even to deny absolutely its rightness, as she did. And why had Manse told her? The act of a mate? Was that sodding schemer a mate now, though?
‘People who fear one do try to diminish one by grotesquely false accusations,’ Ralph remarked in a quiet, relaxed, almost casual style. ‘The Goebbels big lie technique. In its perverted way, a compliment. They seek to make one sound weak because they are so aware one is anything but. Contemptible and, in the long run, self-defeating. One is what one is, and nothing can damage this central integrity.’
They sat at a table
in the centre of the club with coffees. Ralph’s wife, Margaret, had said she might call in on her way to shopping later, so he wanted nothing that looked hole-in-the-corner. This was a friend-to-friend conversation, friend-to-new-friend, friend-to-engaged-new friend. If she had a damn pash for him he didn’t want it causing awkwardness today in the club. It might be possible to work out something else for later.
There were a few members at other tables nearby. Ember liked the way Naomi pulled her lips back over her teeth when she spoke fruity phrases such as ‘vintage armagnac thumps’ and the repeated ‘crisis circumstances’. Teeth as teeth in a beautiful girl didn’t do all that much for Ralph, but the efficient unveiling of them, then reveiling, only for them to be unveiled again during chat, did buck him up, could have a kind of hypnotic effect on him.
Ralph wondered why someone like this should go for Manse Shale. But, then, Ralph often wondered how lovely women with fine bodies – though a little skinny, in this case – yes, he wondered how such women could get interested in the kind of men they did seem to get interested in, even though he might have made it as obvious as he could that he, personally, would definitely not turn them away short-term. Of course, one reason that sod, Manse, had told her about the obnoxious nickname could be his fear Naomi might get a yen for Ralph: most probably a tactic to diminish him in her sight. Ralph knew well that men, frightened of his definite, very proven, allure, would try all kinds of sly, hurtful tricks to put their women off him. But any female who had seen Charlton Heston as El Cid on the movie channel would regard those tricks as what they were – filthy backbiting.
‘But no, it isn’t, wasn’t, Unhinged Humphrey that scared me,’ she said. ‘Some of the conversation, though – so dark and impenetrable.’
‘Which conversation?’
‘Yesterday. Near the bar.’
‘Whose?’
‘Almost everyone’s.’
‘Mine, for instance?’
‘Some of yours, yes,’ she said.
‘Well, I’m sorry. We must clear that up.’