He nodded, poured two, added water, gave me the gla.s.s and waved me to an armchair.

'Now, my dear chap...?'

It suddenly seemed difficult, what I had come to ask him, and what to explain. He was so transparently honest, so incapable of double dealing: I wondered if he could comprehend villainy at all.

'I was talking to Annie Villars about your horse Rudiments,' I said.

A slight frown lowered his eyebrows. 'She was annoyed with me for letting her friend Rupert Tyderman advise me... I do so dislike upsetting Annie, but I'd promised... Anyway, she has sorted it all out splendidly, I believe, and now that her friend has turned out to be so extraordinary, with that bomb, I mean, I don't expect he will want to advise me about Rudiments any more.'

'Did he, sir, introduce to you any friend of his?'

'Do you mean Eric Goldenberg? Yes, he did. Can't say I really liked the follow, though. Didn't trust him, you know. Young Matthew didn't like him, either.'

'Did Goldenberg ever talk to you about insurance?'

'Insurance?' he repeated. 'No, I can't remember especially that he did.'

I frowned. It had to be insurance.

It had to be.

'It was his other friend,' said the Duke, 'who arranged the insurance.'

I stared at him. 'Which other friend?'

'Charles Carthy-Todd.'

I blinked. 'Who?'

'Charles Carthy-Todd,' he repeated patiently. 'He was an acquaintance of Rupert Tyderman. Tyderman introduced us one day. At Newmarket races, I think it was. Anyway, it was Charles who suggested the insurance. Very good scheme, I thought it was. Sound. Very much needed. An absolute boon to a great many people.'

'The Racegoers' Accident Fund,' I said. 'Of which you are Patron.'

'That's right.' He smiled contentedy. 'So many people have complimented me on giving it my name. A splendid undertaking altogether.'

'Could you tell me a little more about how it was set up?'

'Are you interested in insurance, my dear chap? I could get you an introduction at Lloyd's... but...'

I smiled. To become an underwriter at Lloyd's one had to think of a stake of a hundred thousand pounds as loose change. The Duke, in his quiet good natured way, was a very rich man indeed.

'No sir. It's just the Accident Fund I'm interested in. How it was set up, and how it is run.'

'Charles sees to it all, my dear chap. I can't seem to get the hang of these things at all, you know. Technicalities, and all that. Much prefer horses, don't you see?'

'Yes, sir, I do see. Could you perhaps, then, tell me about Mr Carthy-Todd? What he's like, and so on.'

'He's about your height but much heavier and he has dark hair and wears spectacles. I think he has a moustache... yes, that's right, a moustache.'

I was jolted. The Duke's description of Charles Carthy-Todd fitted almost exactly the impression Nancy had had of Tyderman's companion. Dozens of men around, though, with dark hair, moustache, gla.s.ses...

'I really meant, sir, his... er... character.'

'My dear chap. Sound. Very sound. A thoroughly good fellow. An expert in insurance, spent years with a big firm in the city.'

'And... his background?' I suggested.

'Went to Rugby. Then straight into an office. Good family, of course.'

'You've met them?'

He looked surprised at the question. 'Not actually, no. Business connection, that's what I have with Charles. His family came from Herefordshire, I think. There are photographs in our office... land, horses, dogs, wife and children, that sort of thing. Why do you ask?'

I hesitated. 'Did he come to you with the Accident Scheme complete?'

He shook his fine head. 'No, no, my dear chap. It arose out of conversation. We were saying how sad it was for the family of that small steeplechase trainer who was drowned on holiday and what a pity it was that there wasn't some scheme which covered everyone engaged in racing, not just the jockeys. Then of course when we really went into it we broadened it to include the racing public as well. Charles explained that the more premiums we collected the more we could pay out in compensation.'

'I see.'

'We have done a great deal of good already.' He smiled happily. 'Charles was telling me the other day that we have settled three claims for injuries so far, and that those clients are so pleased that they are telling everyone else to join in.'

I nodded. 'I've met one of them. He'd broken his ankle and received a thousand pounds.'

He beamed. 'There you are, then.'

'When did the scheme actually start?'

'Let me see. In May, I should think. Towards the end of May. About two months ago. It took a little while to organise, of course, after we'd decided to go ahead.'

'Charles did the organising?'

'My dear chap, of course.'

'Did you take advice from any of your friends at Lloyd's?'

'No need, you know. Charles is an expert himself. He drew up all the papers. I just signed them.'

'But you read them first?'

'Oh yes,' he said rea.s.suringly, then smiled like a child, 'Didn't understand them much, of course.'

'And you yourself guaranteed the money?' Since the collapse of cut-price car insurance firms, I'd read somewhere, privately run insurance schemes had to show a minimum backing of fifty thousand pounds before the Board of Trade would give them permission to exist.

'That's right.'

'Fifty thousand pounds?'

'We thought a hundred thousand might be better. Gives the scheme better standing, more weight, don't you see?'

'Charles said so?'

'He knows about such things.'

'Yes.'

'But of course I'll never have to find that money. It's only a guarantee of good faith, and to comply with the law. The premiums will cover the compensation and Charles' salary and all the costs. Charles worked it all out. And I told him right at the beginning that I didn't want any profit out of it, just for lending it my name. I really don't need any profit. I told him just to add my share into the paying out fund, and he thought that was a most sensible suggestion. Our whole purpose, you see, is to do good.'

'You're a singularly kind, thoughtful and generous man,' I said.

It made him uncomfortable. 'My dear chap...'

'And after tonight's news, I think several widows in Newmarket will bless you.'

'What news?'

I told him about the accident in which Kitch and Ambrose and the three stable lads had died. He was horrified.

'Oh, the poor fellows. The poor fellows. One can only hope that you are right, and that they had joined our scheme.'

'Will the premiums you have already collected be enough to cover many large claims all at once?'

He wasn't troubled. 'I expect so. Charles will have seen to all that. But even if they don't, I will make up the difference. No one will suffer. That's what guaranteeing means, do you see?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Kitch and Ambrose,' he said. 'The poor fellows.'

'And Kenny Bayst is in hospital, badly hurt.'

'Oh dear.' His distress was genuine. He really cared.

'I know that Kenny Bayst was insured with you. At least, he told me he was going to be. And after this I should think you would be flooded with more applications.'

'I expect you're right. You seem to understand things, just like Charles does.'

'Did Charles have any plans for giving the scheme a quick boost to begin with?'

'I don't follow you, my dear chap.'

'What happened to the Accident Fund,' I asked casually, 'After that bomb exploded in the aeroplane which had been carrying Colin Ross?'

He looked enthusiastic. 'Do you know, a lot of people told me they would join. It made them think, they said. I asked Charles if they had really done anything about it, and he said yes, quite a few enquiries had come in. I said that as no one had been hurt, the bomb seemed to have done the Fund a lot of good, and Charles was surprised and said so it had.'

Charles had met the Duke through Rupert Tyderman. Rupert Tyderman had set off the bomb. If ever there was a stone cold certainty, it was that Charles Carthy-Todd was the least surprised on earth that cash had followed combustion. He had reckoned it would. He had reckoned right.

'Charles sent out a pamphlet urging everyone to insure against bombs on the way home,' I said.

The Duke smiled. 'Yes, that's right. I believe it was very effective. We thought, do you see, that as no one had been hurt, there would be no harm in it.'

'And as it was Colin Ross who was on board, the bomb incident was extensively covered on television and in the newspapers... and had a greater impact on your Fund than had it been anyone else.'

The Duke's forehead wrinkled. 'I'm not sure I understand.'

'Never mind, sir. I was just thinking aloud.'

'Very easy habit to fall into. Do it myself, you know, all the time.'

Carthy-Todd and Tyderman's second sabotage, I thought to myself, hadn't been as good. Certainly by attacking Colin they'd achieved the same impact and national coverage, but I would have thought it was too obviously slanted at one person to have had much universal effect. Could be wrong, though...

'This has been the most interesting chat,' said the Duke, 'But my dear fellow, the evening is pa.s.sing. What was it that you wanted to see me about?'

'Er...' I cleared my throat. 'Do you know, sir, I'd very much like to meet Mr Carthy-Todd. He sounds a most go-ahead, enterprising man.'

The Duke nodded warmly.

'Do you know where I could find him?'

'Tonight, do you mean?' He was puzzled.

'No, sir. Tomorrow will do.'

'I suppose you might find him at our office. He's sure to be there, because he knows I will be calling in myself. Warwick races, do you see?'

'The Accident Fund office... is in Warwick?'

'Of course.'

'Silly of me,' I said. 'I didn't know.'

The Duke twinkled at me. 'I see you haven't joined the Fund.'

'I'll join tomorrow. I'll go to the office. I'll be at Warwick too, for the races.'

'Great,' he said. 'Great. The office is only a few hundred yards from the racecourse.' He put two fingers into an inside pocket and brought out a visiting card. 'There you are, my dear chap. The address. And if you're there about an hour before the first race, I'll be there too, and you can meet Charles. You'll like him, I'm sure of that.'

'I'll look forward to it,' I said. I finished my whisky and stood up. 'It was kind of you to let me come... and I think your trains are absolutely splendid...'

His face brightened. He escorted me all the way down to the front door, talking about young Matthew and the plans they had for the holidays. Would I fix Matthew's flight for Thursday, he asked. Thursday was Matthew's birthday. He would be eleven.

'Thursday it is,' I agreed. 'I'll do it in the evening, if there's a charter fixed for that day.'

'Most good of you, my dear chap.'

I looked at the kind, distinguished, uncomprehending face. I knew that if his partner Charles Carthy-Todd skipped with the acc.u.mulated premiums before paying out the Newmarket widows, as I was privately certain he would, the honourable Duke of Wess.e.x would meet every penny out of his own coffers. In all probability he could afford it, but that wasn't the point. He would be hurt and bewildered and impossibly distressed at having been tangled up in a fraud, and it seemed to me especially vicious that anyone should take advantage of his vulnerable simplicity and goodness.

Charles Carthy-Todd was engaged in taking candy from a mentally r.e.t.a.r.ded child and then making it look as though the child had stolen it in the first place. One couldn't help but feel protective. One couldn't help but want to stop it.

I said impulsively, 'Take care of yourself, sir.'