Jacqueline Winspear - The Mapping of Love and Death

"Never quite fit?"

"No. James Compton is his mother's son, his father's heir, and a man of his generation of young men. On the one hand, his mother has always enjoyed flying in the face of what was expected of her, and on the other, his father is a businessman with barely an equal, a man who has served his country without question when called to do so. Julian is a man of compassion, but he does not suffer fools gladly. And then there was the England that James came home to-and a young man who has been wounded in body and spirit, one who was seeking both solace and joy, found easy consolation in the antics of his peers. But that behavior gnawed at him, Maisie. He grew to hate himself before he went back to Canada. And now he is here again, and though he is a man of some accomplishment, showing every sign of being his father's worthy successor now that he has taken over the highest position in the everyday running of the Compton Corporation, his is not an easy journey."

"I can see your point, Maurice, but there are starving people in lines for food in London-and theirs is not an easy journey either."

Maurice took another sip of the whiskey, wincing as he swallowed. "A little compassion for James, Maisie, might not go amiss."

Maisie nodded, but said nothing in return.

"Have you made progress with your case?"

She was thoughtful before replying. "Yes, yes, I think I have. Lord Julian gave me the name of a man to contact, and he in turn suggested others, one of whom I went to visit. Usually any connections initially effected by Lord Julian are without question, yet this time I…I can't say-there's just something about him."

"Remember, Julian does not know all contacts personally-he just has an extraordinary roster of names at his disposal, not only through his commercial interests but also through his work for the government during the war. I am sure he could find out more about this man, if you wished to inquire."

"Yes, yes, of course."

A knock on the door, followed by Mrs. Bromley and the nurse entering the room, brought the conversation to an end.

"Here come the Furies!" Maurice shook his head and reached for Maisie's hands with his own. His eyes met hers, and she was pained to see the milky patina of age and sickness. "Remember your childhood, Maisie. Remember being at Ebury Place, and here at Chelstone. Remember being different and having to make your way in a world for which there was no set of directions. Remember that next time you try to avoid conversation with James Compton."

"But-"

"I've always loved sitting in this conservatory, Maisie. Have you never looked out across the estate from here? You can see the gardens, the carriage sweep. I can see down the slope to your father's house, across the lawns, right up to the entrance to the mansion. Indeed, if I am situated in a certain place, I can even view the stableyard and the paddocks-I take great joy in seeing your father with the young horses, or instructing the grooms when they exercise the hunters. I miss nothing, so the sound of an MG's engine accelerating when James Compton is leaving the manor would attract my attention."

Maisie smiled. "Guilty as charged." She took his right hand, kissed the liver-marked skin, and felt the web of veins touch her lips. "Good night, Maurice."

"Good night, my dear."

As if it had been orchestrated by Maurice, while Maisie was leaving Chelstone for London, James Compton was walking his mother's dogs, a Labrador and a springer spaniel, across the lawns. It would have been an obvious omission had she not stopped to greet him and ask after his mother, so instead of driving on towards the gates, she pulled over. James waved and came towards her.

"Hello, Maisie. Leaving the fold so soon?"

"I have to get back to London, James-busy as usual."

"You're never here long enough for us to have a chat." James turned away to whistle the dogs to him. "Those dogs are tearaways. My mother has let them get away with murder."

Maisie nodded. "I've noticed."

"I suppose that isn't the sort of thing I should say to you, is it? You'll be taking each of them by the scruff of the neck and marching them over to Scotland Yard." He paused. "Look, I was going to ask if…well, do you like motor cars?"

"Me?" Maisie was unsure of how she might answer the question, wondering where it might lead. "Well, yes, I do-I mean, I love my MG, which as you know, I bought from Lady Rowan."

"Um, would you like to come with me to Brooklands next weekend? There's a meet there. I thought it might be rather fun to watch. We could leave from London, take a picnic." James reddened. "I-I just thought it would be something-"

"Yes, that would be lovely, James. Saturday, is it?"

"Pick you up at eight, if that's all right?"

Maisie nodded. "Now I must go, James." Maisie slipped the motor car into gear, then paused as a thought occurred to her. "James, just a minute-I wonder if I might ask a quick question?"

"Fire away."

"Do you know a family, very big in building and land in America? They come from Boston-the Cliftons."

"Yes, of course I know of them. In fact, I've had a few dealings with Teddy Clifton-he's the eldest son. A few years ago the Compton Corporation was engaged in several consortium projects in which they were also involved, mainly in Chicago. We've also been on a couple of advisory boards together, nothing too formal, just meetings of interested parties gathered by local dignitaries. Lots of blah-blah-blah. Teddy was always a good, solid person to talk to. Rather do business with him than with that brother-in-law of his."

"Which one?"

"Tom Libbert. I believe he's married to the second daughter. Can't remember her name now." He paused, frowning as he recalled details. "I think it was Anna. Yes, that's right: Anna. And the eldest daughter, Meg, is married to a doctor, though I understand both sisters are not above a bit of speculation on land themselves. It seems to run in the family blood."

"Why don't you care for Libbert?"

James shrugged. "He's managed to garner a bit of a reputation for himself as playing a bit too hard with the family money. He's had a few land deals go bad-and apparently he was warned to be careful by Teddy, but on the other hand, Teddy doesn't want to upset his sister. Mind you, I had my misgivings about Libbert before I'd garnered those nuggets of information. Can't put my finger on it, but as the saying goes, if it doesn't feel right, then it probably isn't, and even though I like a lot of background to any deal-as you know after the purchase last summer, when you played such an important part-I tend to depend on good old instinct."

"Goodness, James, you seem to know a lot about them."

James shrugged. "Same business, same continent. Hardly surprising. Mind you, I'm half surprised myself." He paused. "They're a close family, Maisie, so despite anything I might have said, the fact remains that they are tight, and they treat Libbert as any other member of the inner circle; he's Anna's husband, therefore he's family."

"Thank you, James."

"I know I daren't ask why you inquired-but can I help with any more details? I have employees in Toronto whose sole remit is to uncover information on land, markets, and people-I call them my intelligence squad."

"I think you should be doing my job, James." Maisie sighed. "You've probably not read the papers-mind you, the press were asked not to release the news immediately-but Edward and Martha Clifton were attacked in their hotel room earlier this week. Between us, I had just taken on an assignment for them and received my usual advance on expenses and my fee, and I consider both finding their attacker and fulfilling the terms of our agreement to be paramount."

"Dear Lord, Maisie, are they all right? Where are they? I must get in touch with Teddy to see if there's anything I can do to help."