The Skull Beneath the Skin Read Online Free Page A

a half-mocking smile. Despite her stillness there had been no impression of peace.
    Cordelia said: “I didn’t recognize your wife but I remember her very well.”
    “And you’ll take the job?”
    “Yes, I’ll take it.”
    He said without embarrassment: “Rather different from finding lost cats. Mrs. Fortescue told my wife what you charge per day. This will be higher, I suppose.”
    Cordelia said: “The daily rate is the same whatever the job. The final bill depends on the time taken, whether I have to use either of my staff, and the level of expenses. These can sometimes be high. But as I’ll be a guest on the island, there will be no hotel bills. When do you want me to arrive?”
    “The launch from Courcy—it’s called
Shearwater
—will be at Speymouth jetty to meet the nine-thirty-three from Waterloo. Your ticket’s in this envelope. My wife has telephoned to let Mr. Gorringe know that she’s bringing a secretary-companion to help her with various odd jobs during the weekend. You’ll be expected.”
    So Clarissa Lisle had been confident that she would take the job. And why not? She had taken it. And she was apparently equally confident of being able to get her way with AmbroseGorringe. Her excuse for including a secretary in the party was surely rather thin and Cordelia wondered how far it had been believed. To arrive for a country-house weekend accompanied by one’s private detective was permissible for royalty, but in any less elevated guest showed a lack of confidence in one’s host, while to bring one incognito might reasonably be regarded as a breach of etiquette. It wasn’t going to be easy to protect Miss Lisle without betraying that she was there under false pretences, a discovery which would hardly be agreeable for either her host or fellow guests. She said: “I need to know who else will be on the island and anything you can tell me about them.”
    “There’s not much I can tell. There’ll be about one hundred people on the island by Saturday afternoon when the cast and invited audience arrive. But the house party is small. My wife, of course, with Tolly—Miss Tolgarth—her dresser. Then my wife’s stepson, Simon Lessing, will be there. He’s a seventeen-year-old schoolboy, the son of Clarissa’s second husband who was drowned in August 1977. He wasn’t happy with the relatives who were his guardians so my wife decided to take him on. I’m not sure why he’s invited, music’s his interest. Clarissa probably thought it was time he met more people. He’s a shy boy. Then there’s her cousin, Roma Lisle. Used to be a schoolmistress but now keeps a bookshop somewhere in north London. Unmarried, aged about forty-five. I’ve only met her twice. I think she may be bringing her partner with her but, if so, I can’t tell you who he is. And you’ll meet the drama critic Ivo Whittingham. He’s an old friend of my wife. He’s supposed to be doing a piece about the theatre and the performance for one of the colour magazines. Ambrose Gorringe will be there, of course. And there are three servants: the butler, Munter, and his wife and Oldfield, who is the boatman and general factotum. I think that’s all.”
    “Tell me about Mr. Gorringe.”
    “Gorringe has known my wife since childhood. Both their fathers were in the diplomatic. He inherited the island from his uncle in 1977, when he was spending a year abroad. Something to do with tax avoidance. He came back to the U.K. in 1978 and has spent the last three years restoring the castle and looking after the island. Middle-aged. Unmarried. Read history at Cambridge I believe. Authority on the Victorians. I know no harm of him.”
    Cordelia said: “There’s one last question I have to ask. Your wife apparently fears for her life, so much so that she is reluctant to be on Courcy Island without protection. Is there any one of that company whom she has reason to fear, reason to suspect?”
    She could see at once that the question was