“But that might be the best outcome for the company in the long run.”
“Possibly, but I must be seen to win the argument on the day, and not have to rely on fixing the vote. That’s the sort of cheap trick Fisher would stoop to.”
“My dear Mama, no one could admire you more than I do for always taking the moral high road, but when you’re dealing with the Martinezes of this world, you have to understand that they have no morals, and will always be happy to take the low road. In fact, he’d crawl into the nearest gutter if he thought it would ensure he’d win the vote.”
A long silence followed, until Sebastian said, very quietly, “Mama, when I woke for the first time after the acciden
t, I found Don Pedro standing at the end of the bed.” Emma shuddered. “He was smiling, and said, ‘How are you, my boy?’ I shook my head, and it was only then that he realized I wasn’t Bruno. The look he gave me before he marched off was something I will never forget for the rest of my life.” Still Emma said nothing. “Mama, don’t you think the time has come to tell me why Martinez is so determined to bring our family to its knees? Because it wasn’t too difficult to work out that he meant to kill me on the A1, and not his own son.”
5
YOU’RE ALWAYS SO impatient, Sergeant Warwick, said the pathologist as he studied the body more closely.
But are you at least able to tell me just how long the body has been in the water? asked the detective.
Harry was crossing out the word just and changing has to had, when the phone rang. He put down his pen and picked up the receiver.
“Yes,” he said somewhat abruptly.
“Harry, it’s Harold Guinzburg. Congratulations, you’re number eight this week.” Harold rang every Thursday afternoon to let Harry know where he would feature on the bestseller list that Sunday. “That’s nine weeks in a row in the top fifteen.”
Harry had been at number 4 a month ago, the highest position he’d ever managed, and although he didn’t admit it even to Emma, he still hoped to join that select group of British writers who’d made it to the top on both sides of the Atlantic. The last two William Warwick mysteries had been number 1 in Britain, but the top spot in the States still eluded him.
“Sales figures are all that really matter,” said Guinzburg, almost as if he was reading Harry’s thoughts. “And in any case, I’m confident that you’ll climb even higher when the softback comes out in March.” Harry didn’t miss the words even higher and not to number one. “How’s Emma?”
“Preparing a speech on why the company shouldn’t be building a new luxury liner at the present time.”
“Doesn’t sound like a bestseller to me,” said Harold. “So tell me, how’s Sebastian coming along?”
“He’s in a wheelchair. But his surgeon assures me not for much longer, and they’re allowing him out for the first time next week.”
“Bravo. Does that mean he’ll be going home?”
“No, Matron won’t allow him to travel that far yet; perhaps a trip to Cambridge to visit his tutor, and have tea with his aunt.”
“Sounds worse than school to me. Still, it can’t be too long before he finally escapes.”
“Or is thrown out. I’m not sure which will come first.”
“Why would they want to throw him out?”
“One or two of the nurses have begun taking a greater interest in Seb as each bandage comes off, and I’m afraid he isn’t discouraging them.”
“The dance of the seven veils,” said Harold. Harry laughed. “Is he still hoping to go up to Cambridge in September?”
“As far as I can tell, yes. But he’s changed so much since the accident, nothing would surprise me.”
“How has he changed?”
“Nothing I can put a finger on. It’s just that he’s matured in a way I wouldn’t have thought possible a year ago. And I think I’ve discovered why.”
“Sounds intriguing.”
“It certainly is. I’ll fill you in on the details when I next come to New York.”
“Do I have to wait that long?”
“Yes, because it’s like my writing, I have no idea what will happen when I turn the page.”