“Chingford was contacted a year and a half ago.” The Marquess’s voice was thin. “The letter-writer claimed to be aware of certain...irregularities in his time at the War Department and demanded money. Chingford brought the matter to me.”

“What irregularities?”

Flitby waved a hand, indicating it didn’t matter. Kim said, “Don’t make me extract this piecemeal, sir. I don’t have the time or the patience. What irregularities?”

Flitby’s jaw tensed. “The allegations were of relaxed procurement standards for certain suppliers. That some checks, technicalities, had not been carried out. That emoluments had been received.”

“He was taking bribes,” Will said. “Letting substandard goods through. Wasn’t he?”

“Was he?” Kim asked.

“There are gentleman’s agreements in business—” Flitby began.

Will strode over, planted both fists on the desk, and leaned close to the Marquess’s face. “Was—he—taking—bribes?”

“Arthur!”

“Answer him,” Kim said. “Although, really, you have.”

The Marquess’s nose was about six inches from Will’s. To give him credit, he didn’t move away. “He received unauthorised payments. Yes.”

Will eyeballed him a second more, then straightened. “He lined his own pockets at the expense of men who were fighting for their country, while he sat in the safe back-room job you got him. You must be proud. Deliberately sending substandard supplies to the army, impeding the war effort—isn’t that treason? I’d call that treason.”

“And he told you about it,” Kim said. “Why?”

“He was unable to meet the demand himself.”

“He’s thirty-seven and he can’t even pay his own blackmail?”

“I took on the obligation in the interest of the family name.”

“Oh, don’t,” Kim said. “It would make a cat laugh. How much were you paying?”

“Three hundred pounds a month.”

“Bloody hell,” Will said involuntarily.

“In-deed.” Kim had a little frown. “And you didn’t consider taking it to the police, and letting Chingford face the consequences?”

“Neither of us knew who was responsible for the extortion. I should have dealt with it, had I known.”

“The police could have found out, but I don’t suppose you mean that. How was it done?”

“The business was conducted by letter. I wired Chingford the money and he gave a messenger cash.” The Marquess frowned. “Do you know it was this man Fairfax? How?”

“Regular sums of money in his notebook,” Kim said. “Other evidence in his papers, which have been secured—and, again, are not yet in the hands of the police. And, of course, Chingford’s public row with Fairfax, which rather suggests he’d found out what was going on. Or was that about something else?”

“He has not disclosed that to me. He said it was a disagreement between gentlemen.”