Snobbery with Violence Read Online Free Page B

Kerridge detested the upper classes with every fibre of his hard-working lower-middle-class soul. He was sure one day the revolution would come. One of his rosy fantasies was a world where all the roles were reversed and the aristocrats’ money would be taken from them and spread among the poor.
    ‘It’s like this.’ Posh Cyril leaned forward. ‘It was my night off and I was playing cards in the kitchen at Blandon’s. The bell for the front door goes. The footman went to answer it. Then we hear shouting and swearing. I nipped up the stairs and opened the baize door a crack. There’s this tall, black-haired fellow and he’s smacking into Blandon with his fists. He brings him down and then he leans over him and says, “Leave the country by tomorrow or, by God, next time I’ll kill you.”’
    ‘No charges have been laid.’
    ‘But Blandon thinks the earl hired someone to beat Blandon up. That’s criminal,’ said Posh Cyril.
    ‘Was the assailant some hired thug?’
    ‘No, he spoke like a gent. Got gent’s clothes on, too.’
    ‘That lot are a law unto themselves,’ said Kerridge. ‘Nothing there for me.’
    ‘The newspapers might pay for this.’
    Kerridge sighed. He knew if the newspapers got hold of it, he would have to investigate for the sake of formality. Then someone would have a word with someone else in high places and he would be ordered to drop it.
    ‘Keep your mouth shut,’ he ordered, ‘or I’ll make sure your employers know all about your record. Here’s half a crown. Now take yourself off.’
    ‘What is it, Brum?’ asked the earl the next afternoon. ‘Is everything ready for our departure tomorrow?’
    ‘Yes, my lord. A person has called to see you.’
    ‘I don’t see persons.’
    ‘This person is a police officer.’ Brum held out a small silver tray with a card on it.
    The earl took it. ‘Detective Superintendent Alfred Kerridge. Dear me. I’d better see him. Where is he?’
    ‘In the ante-room.’
    ‘Send him up.’
    Now what? wondered the earl. Have we engaged some criminal by mistake? There’s that new hall boy, whatsisname.
    The doors opened and Kerridge was ushered in, holding his bowler and gloves in one hand.
    ‘Sit down,’ ordered the earl.
    The stocky detective sat down gingerly on a delicate-looking chair which creaked alarmingly under his bulk.
    ‘I do not want to distress you, my lord, by referring to the matter of your daughter’s confrontation with a certain Sir Geoffrey Blandon—’
    ‘Then don’t.’
    ‘It has however come to my attention’, pursued Kerridge, ‘that Sir Geoffrey was beaten up by an assailant and ordered to leave the country.’
    A slow smile lit up the earl’s face. ‘ByJove! Really?’
    ‘Yes, really. My lord, you did not by any chance hire such an assailant? My report says he spoke like a gentleman. He is tall and has black hair.’
    Cathcart, thought the earl, with a sudden rush of gratitude. ‘No,’ he said coldly. ‘I am not in the habit of hiring thugs. I should warn you . . .’
    Here it comes, thought Kerridge.
    ‘. . . that the Prime Minister is known to me.’
    ‘How did Lady Rose get that sheet from the betting book of a gentleman’s club?’
    ‘I have no idea.’
    ‘Perhaps Lady Rose could tell me.’
    The earl rang the bell. ‘You have over-stepped the mark. We have nothing to do with the assault on Blandon, and if you insist on pursuing this, I shall have a word with your superiors, not to mention . . .’
    ‘The Prime Minister,’ said Kerridge.
    The butler appeared. ‘Show Mr Kerridge out,’ ordered the earl.
    It was just as he expected, thought Kerridge, but perhaps his visit might persuade the earl that he was not above the law. Then he realized dismally that the earl had just persuaded him that he was.
    The earl had never regarded himself a gossip and despised those whom he considered indiscreet. But when he arrived at his club an hour later and saw Brigadier Bill Handy sitting by the fire, the