Edward Marston - The Parliament House

'Yes, Sir Julius.'

'Has any progress been made?'

'Not as yet,' replied Christopher, 'but it will be.'

'Bale is a good man. He'll not let us down. And I know that you have the instincts of a bloodhound as well, Christopher.'

'We'll find the villain between us.'

'I'm counting on it.'

Sir Julius's voice was stern yet he had not altogether shed his air of contentment. A smile still hovered around his mouth and his eyes sparkled. Christopher was puzzled. Whenever the older man had returned from a heady political discussion before, he had always been roused to a pitch of excitement. If he had dined with a parliamentary colleague, he should be highly animated. Instead, he was curiously happy and relaxed. Christopher had never seen him so tranquil before. He was sorry that he would have to disturb that tranquillity.

'I've been talking with my brother,' he began.

'There's nothing unusual in that, surely?'

'We spoke about you, Sir Julius.'

'Oh? To what end?'

'Henry has a wide circle of friends, not all of them entirely suitable, as it happens. But he's well-known at court and numbers several politicians among his intimates.'

Sir Julius frowned. 'Supporters of the King no doubt.'

'Denizens of the Parliament House,' said Christopher. 'Men who know the very nerves of state and who keep a close eye on each new faction that comes into being.' 'So?'

'Is it true that you have formed your own club?'

'That's my business,' said the other, curtly.

'I've been forced to make it mine.' 'Don't meddle in things you don't understand.'

'I understand danger when I catch a whiff of it.'

'What are you taking about?'

'You, Sir Julius,' said Christopher, sitting forward. 'Everyone I've spoken to has told me the same thing. You've been gathering men around you who share your aims and values. Susan has confirmed it. According to her, you hold meetings in this house that-'

'Enough!' shouted Sir Julius, getting to his feet. 'What happens under this roof is entirely my own affair.'

'I disagree.'

'Then you are being impertinent.'

'No, Sir Julius,' said Christopher, rising from his chair.

'And you begin to irritate me.'

'What happens in this house may be your own affair but yesterday, as we both well know, it spilled out into Knightrider Street.'

'Nobody regrets that more than I do.'

'It's a cause for fear rather than regret.'

'Fear?'

'Yes,' said Christopher with passion. 'Bernard Everett was an able man who might in time have caught the eye in the Parliament House. You, however, have already established your worth, so much so that you have attracted disciples.'

'I do not follow your argument.'

'Remember the weather.'

'The weather?'

'It was raining when we left that house yesterday. You and Mr Everett wore similar coats and hats. From a window in the Saracen's Head, it would have been impossible to tell you apart.'

'Someone apparently did so.'

'No,' declared Christopher. 'He made a mistake. From everything I've learned since then, I'm absolutely convinced of it. You were the intended victim. That man was hired to kill Sir Julius Cheever.'

He was momentarily stunned. It had never crossed Sir Julius Cheever's mind that his own life had been at risk in Knightrider Street. Since his friend had been killed so expertly with a single shot, he had assumed that Bernard Everett was the designated target. Now, he was forced to consider the possibility that he himself might have been murdered in cold blood on the previous day. He did not ponder for long. Having briefly looked at the evidence, he dismissed the idea completely, like a horse flicking its tail to rid itself of a troublesome insect.

'No,' he decided. 'I simply refuse to believe that.'

'Mr Everett did not pose a threat,' argued Christopher. 'You do, Sir Julius. You make your presence felt in the House of Commons.'

'That's why I was elected.'

'Your views are not universally popular.'

'I did not enter parliament in search of popularity.'

'You're a natural leader. Others are drawn to you.'

'Fortunately, there are still some men of integrity left in England. Bernard was one of them. He would have been a welcome addition to our little group.'

'That group would soon disappear if you were assassinated.'

'It will take more than some villain in the window of a tavern to get rid of me,' said Sir Julius, thrusting out a pugnacious jaw. 'Besides, I'm not persuaded that the crime has anything to do with me. There may be other reasons why Bernard was shot. We know litde about his private life. It's not inconceivable that someone bore him a grudge.'

'No,' admitted Christopher, 'but it seems highly unlikely that they would wait until Mr Everett came to London before striking at him. If he has enemies in his home county, they would surely attack him there. I'm still strongly of the opinion that you were supposed to be the victim and that raises a worrying prospect.'

'Does it?'

'Having failed once, the killer will try again.'

'Upon my soul!' cried Sir Julius with exasperation. 'I don't know what nonsense your brother has put into your head but I'd advise you to forget every last stupid syllable of it.'

'Henry is very well-informed.'

'From what I've heard about your brother, he's a conceited fop who spends most of his time consorting with low company. Do you trust his assessment of the House of Commons over mine?'

'Of course not, Sir Julius.'

'Then cease this pointless line of argument. I detest most politicians to the height of my power and I daresay that they, in turn, detest me. But that does not mean they'd seek my life. Backstabbing is the order of the day in parliament but only in the metaphorical sense. I have absolutely no fears for my safety.'

'You should,' said Christopher.

'Stop badgering me, man.'

'Precautions must be taken.'

'The only precaution that I'll take is to ignore everything that your idiot brother has told you.'

'I'm not relying solely on Henry's advice,' said Christopher, hurt by the antagonism towards his brother. 'I spoke to two Members of Parliament as well – Ninian Teale and Roland Askray. They agreed that you were perceived in some quarters as a dangerous firebrand.'

'I have the courage of my convictions, that's all,' announced Sir Julius, truculently, 'so I'm bound to cause a flutter in governmental dovecotes. And I have to tell you that I resent the way that you've gone behind my back in this matter.'

'It was for your own good, Sir Julius.'

'My own good! In what way can discussing me with your imbecile brother, and with two Members of Parliament who clearly deride me, be construed as my own good? This is a gross intrusion on my privacy.'

'I acted with the best of intentions,' said Christopher.

'And the worst of results.'

'Sir Julius-'

'I'll hear no more of this,' yelled the old man, interrupting him with a vivid gesture. 'Instead of pestering me, you should be out there, trying to catch the man who killed Bernard Everett.'

'I only came to issue a warning.'

'Then let me give you one in return. If you dare to bother me again in this way, you'll no longer be allowed into this house.'

'That's unjust.'

'Good day to you!'

Fuming with anger, Sir Julius turned on his heel and left the room. Christopher could hear his footsteps, ascending the staircase. Shortly afterwards, Susan came into the parlour.

"Whatever did you say to Father?' she wondered.

He swallowed hard. 'Sir Julius and I had a slight disagreement,' he replied. 'Nothing more.'

'He swept past me without a word.'

'I must take the blame for that, Susan.'

'Why? What happened in here?'

'I inadvertently upset him.'