The Sirens Sang of Murder (4 page)

The pseudonym deceived no one. The question whether it would be proper, as it would plainly be politic, to remove and destroy the message before it was seen by Henry was still under discussion when his arrival rendered it academic. Thinking the moment un-propitious to my errand, I joined Selena and Ragwort in seeking shelter from his rage in Basil Ptarmigan’s room—a room of such serene and elegant distinction, its walls lined with centuries of legal learning, that Henry would not venture, it was felt, to give rein there to his indignation.

We found Basil in consultation with Julia, who had persuaded her instructing solicitors that for the purpose of the appeal from Mr. Justice Welladay’s recent decision it was essential to engage the services of leading Counsel: she and Basil were now deliberating the grounds of the appeal. The eminent Silk accepted our apologies for the interruption, courteously implying that company so agreeable and distinguished could never be considered intrusive. Selena explained why we were obliged to seek refuge.

“As you know,” said Basil, “I have always had grave doubts of the wisdom of installing a telex machine. Technology is responsible for much that is wrong with the modern world—now we are going to have Henry in one of his difficult moods, and we all know how tiresome that is for everyone.”

“I’m not sure,” said Julia, “that it’s the existence of telex machines that’s wrong with the modern world—I’m inclined to think it’s the existence of Cantrip. He’s sent me a telex as well, and its contents are rather disturbing. Perhaps the rest of you would care to read it while Basil and I finish drafting our notice of appeal.”

There was some curiosity about what had happened after the case about goldfish, but Julia, though willing to explain in some detail the interesting questions of law raised by the case itself, declined to give particulars of its sequel. The first significant victory of her forensic career, the goldfish case had occurred at the time when
she and Cantrip were on those terms conventionally described as closer than mere friendship. She had celebrated her triumph in his company, and with an exuberance more unrestrained than it might have been, she said, had she known that in future years it would be made the subject of a public proclamation to the senior judiciary.

“Oh dear,” said Selena. “I hope that isn’t going to cause you any embarrassment.”

“I suppose,” said Julia, “that when I next appear before Mr. Justice Welladay, the thought of his having quite such a detailed knowledge of what I had previously regarded as my private life may indeed be a trifle disconcerting. That, however, isn’t actually what I’m worried about. The thing that’s worrying me—”

“How fortunate,” said Basil, “that the judge in question was Arthur Welladay. Other judges, perhaps, might be distracted by the idea of you engaged in youthful dalliance from the learning and gravity of your arguments, but since Arthur never in any case pays any attention to any argument addressed to him on behalf of the taxpayer, it will make no difference. I wonder what he’s doing in the Channel Islands. Making sure they exist, perhaps—on the last occasion that I appeared before him, he seemed to be accusing me of inventing them as part of a tax avoidance scheme. So I offered to put in evidence of their existence, and he became rather cross with me.”

“Basil,” said Selena with gentle severity, “you really ought not to tease him, you know.”

“My dear Selena, I’ve been teasing Arthur Welladay for twenty-five years, and it’s far too late to break myself of the habit. He was just the same at the Bar—wherever
the Revenue position was most plainly indefensible, there was Arthur defending it. And he wouldn’t touch anything that looked like an artificial avoidance scheme—not even the innocent little discretionary settlements that the rest of us were earning our living from in those days. Poor Arthur, it’s really very sad—if it hadn’t been for that, he might have been quite a good lawyer. He is a member, as of course you know, of a distinguished legal family and has a by no means contemptible intellect, but I’m afraid this obsession with tax evasion has seriously impaired his judgment. He’s really hardly rational on the subject.”

“To return,” said Julia, “to the matter of Cantrip’s telex, the thing that’s worrying me—”

“Have you any idea,” said Ragwort, “why this Jersey advocate should suspect you of unorthodox tastes?”

“Possibly,” said Julia, “because I have been to some trouble to persuade him to. Edward Malvoisin is apparently under the impression that every woman he meets is secretly yearning for him to make advances to her. If his advances are rejected, he regards this as merely confirming that the yearning is indeed secret. So far as I’m concerned he is mistaken—if I’d known him when he was twenty-five or so, I daresay I might have thought him quite good-looking, but he has the kind of looks which tend to become rather fleshy and florid by the late thirties. Not my sort of thing at all. On the other hand…”

“Yes?” said Ragwort, raising an eyebrow.

“On the other hand, Stingham and Grynne use his firm for most of their work in Jersey, and quite often instruct me in connection with the same matters, so I was reluctant to express myself with the degree of rudeness
which would evidently be required to persuade him of his error. I thought the tactful thing would be to give the impression that my repugnance was general rather than particular.”

“That was very sensible of you,” said Selena. “How thoughtless of Cantrip to spoil it.”

“Isn’t it?” said Julia. “But that isn’t what I’m worrying about, either. The thing about Cantrip’s telex that I find really disturbing is the threatened arrival of his Uncle Hereward.”

Colonel Hereward Cantrip had served his country with great distinction in the Second World War, having twice been awarded the DSO, and now lived in well-earned retirement on the South Coast. On those happily infrequent occasions, however, when the widowed sister who kept house for him decided for some reason of her own to dispatch him to London for a few days, he was considered by the rest of the family to become the responsibility of his nephew. Julia had once or twice at such times been prevailed on to assist in his entertainment, and would have been content to do so again. It was, she said, no more than one friend might reasonably ask of another. To undertake the task, alone and unaided and for some indefinite period, of keeping him out of trouble was quite another matter. Trouble, so far as Julia had been able to discover, was what Colonel Cantrip had spent a lifetime of more than seventy years getting into. To keep him out of it, she felt, would require a woman of sterner resolve than herself.

“I don’t think,” said Ragwort, “that you should allow yourself to become unduly anxious. After all, there’s no sign of the old gentleman so far, and we know that Cantrip is appearing in West London County Court on
Tuesday afternoon. So he can’t be away for more than four days.”

Ragwort has a touching confidence that things will turn out as they ought.