Read Online Murder in the Queen's Armes by Aaron Elkins - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Aaron Elkins
Ads: Link
keep copies of the paper in the sitting room." He held out the folded paper.
Robyn stretched out an elegant hand. "Thank you. And…Andy, is it?…I don’t think we need anything else."
"Oh—" Hinshore said, his sallow cheeks flushing. "Yes, excuse me. Sorry."
When he had left, Robyn spread the newspaper on the table before him, and he and Arbuckle leaned over it. Robyn was the faster reader of the two, and while he waited for his colleague to finish, he lit a cigarette and puffed languidly, gazing thoughtfully into the fire.
When Arbuckle finally finished, he looked up slowly. "Where did they get all that information? How could they find out about the letter?"
"The irrepressible Professor Marcus, I suspect," Robyn said, "although how he found out I haven’t the foggiest notion. In any case, the article is certainly accurate enough, isn’t it?"
"Not exactly," Gideon said, putting down his glass. "It implied that I was here as part of your inquiry, and I’m not."
Robyn tapped his cigarette into an ashtray. "I meant as far as the important aspects are concerned."
Gideon, not notably slow to take offense when warranted, wondered if it were warranted now. He looked up sharply, but Robyn’s expression was coolly benign.
"Of course," the Englishman went on, "knowing you were coming, they would naturally assume your visit was connected to our inquiry. Don’t you think so?"
"I suppose so." Gideon sipped his Scotch. "The question is, how did they know I was coming at all? I barely knew myself."
"I’m sure I have no idea."
"Well, I sure didn’t know you were coming," Arbuckle said. He placed his glass on the table and looked doubtfully at Gideon. "Why
are
you here?"
Gideon shook his head and laughed. "Everybody’s suspicious of me. Honestly, it’s not very mysterious. Mostly because I’m trying to take a peaceful, inconspicuous English honeymoon. As for Stonebarrow Fell, I’d heard that Nate was having difficulties, and I thought I might lend a little moral support, so I went up to see him."
"A sympathetic compatriot in a strange land?" Robyn asked. "That sort of thing?"
"That’s about it. And when I was there, Nate asked me if I’d come back when he takes the wraps off that find of his. I’d like to do that, if it’s all right with you. I might be of some help."
Gideon caught a small negative shake of Robyn’s head and saw him form the words "Well, I…," but Arbuckle spoke up more loudly.
"I think that’d be
great,
" he said sincerely. "You’re an old friend of his, aren’t you? Maybe you could talk some sense into him. Don’t you think so, Frederick?"
"Yes," said Robyn, deciding after all not to demur, "I suppose so."
"I’ve already tried to talk some sense into him," Gideon said, "I wasn’t too successful."
"But it isn’t too late," Arbuckle said, leaning forward with his typical earnest gravity. "Gideon, this isn’t an inquiry in the usual sense. No one’s disputing any facts. It’s my responsibility, and Frederick’s, to simply talk with Marcus and get him to…well, to grow up and start acting like the first-rate professional he is." He pulled at his beer, set it down, and frowned with myopic ardor. "However, if he won’t do that, we will certainly relieve him and close down the dig. But I just can’t believe it’ll come to that!"
"Is that true, Paul? The outcome’s still open?"
It was Robyn who answered. "My dear Oliver," he said lighting another cigarette, "Arbuckle and I are not a couple of hit men hired to perform a character assassination. We represent, as you well know, two of the most prestigious of archaeological research organizations. Both of us, I should add, were firm supporters, in the face of some rather severe opposition, of Professor Marcus’s original application for permission and funding."
He paused to taste his sherry, then pressed his lips together, holding the glass to his temple, as if listening to it. "Quite nice," he said, "although as olorosos go,
Robyn stretched out an elegant hand. "Thank you. And…Andy, is it?…I don’t think we need anything else."
"Oh—" Hinshore said, his sallow cheeks flushing. "Yes, excuse me. Sorry."
When he had left, Robyn spread the newspaper on the table before him, and he and Arbuckle leaned over it. Robyn was the faster reader of the two, and while he waited for his colleague to finish, he lit a cigarette and puffed languidly, gazing thoughtfully into the fire.
When Arbuckle finally finished, he looked up slowly. "Where did they get all that information? How could they find out about the letter?"
"The irrepressible Professor Marcus, I suspect," Robyn said, "although how he found out I haven’t the foggiest notion. In any case, the article is certainly accurate enough, isn’t it?"
"Not exactly," Gideon said, putting down his glass. "It implied that I was here as part of your inquiry, and I’m not."
Robyn tapped his cigarette into an ashtray. "I meant as far as the important aspects are concerned."
Gideon, not notably slow to take offense when warranted, wondered if it were warranted now. He looked up sharply, but Robyn’s expression was coolly benign.
"Of course," the Englishman went on, "knowing you were coming, they would naturally assume your visit was connected to our inquiry. Don’t you think so?"
"I suppose so." Gideon sipped his Scotch. "The question is, how did they know I was coming at all? I barely knew myself."
"I’m sure I have no idea."
"Well, I sure didn’t know you were coming," Arbuckle said. He placed his glass on the table and looked doubtfully at Gideon. "Why
are
you here?"
Gideon shook his head and laughed. "Everybody’s suspicious of me. Honestly, it’s not very mysterious. Mostly because I’m trying to take a peaceful, inconspicuous English honeymoon. As for Stonebarrow Fell, I’d heard that Nate was having difficulties, and I thought I might lend a little moral support, so I went up to see him."
"A sympathetic compatriot in a strange land?" Robyn asked. "That sort of thing?"
"That’s about it. And when I was there, Nate asked me if I’d come back when he takes the wraps off that find of his. I’d like to do that, if it’s all right with you. I might be of some help."
Gideon caught a small negative shake of Robyn’s head and saw him form the words "Well, I…," but Arbuckle spoke up more loudly.
"I think that’d be
great,
" he said sincerely. "You’re an old friend of his, aren’t you? Maybe you could talk some sense into him. Don’t you think so, Frederick?"
"Yes," said Robyn, deciding after all not to demur, "I suppose so."
"I’ve already tried to talk some sense into him," Gideon said, "I wasn’t too successful."
"But it isn’t too late," Arbuckle said, leaning forward with his typical earnest gravity. "Gideon, this isn’t an inquiry in the usual sense. No one’s disputing any facts. It’s my responsibility, and Frederick’s, to simply talk with Marcus and get him to…well, to grow up and start acting like the first-rate professional he is." He pulled at his beer, set it down, and frowned with myopic ardor. "However, if he won’t do that, we will certainly relieve him and close down the dig. But I just can’t believe it’ll come to that!"
"Is that true, Paul? The outcome’s still open?"
It was Robyn who answered. "My dear Oliver," he said lighting another cigarette, "Arbuckle and I are not a couple of hit men hired to perform a character assassination. We represent, as you well know, two of the most prestigious of archaeological research organizations. Both of us, I should add, were firm supporters, in the face of some rather severe opposition, of Professor Marcus’s original application for permission and funding."
He paused to taste his sherry, then pressed his lips together, holding the glass to his temple, as if listening to it. "Quite nice," he said, "although as olorosos go,
Similar Books
