“You have no idea how much I would like to let Will off the leash,” Kim said. “I already know the truth, you lurching embarrassment, it’s written in Fairfax’s book! How much?”

“A hundred and fifty,” Chingford muttered.

“What?” Flitby said.

“A hundred and fifty!”

“You told Father three hundred,” Kim said. “He gave you the money and you passed on half. What did you do with the rest?”

Chingford would probably have shuffled if he could move. “Expenses.”

“You lied to me.” The Marquess sounded numb. “You told me three hundred—”

“He knew you’d pay anything to cover it up,” Kim said. “If you’d told him to go to the police and take the consequences, we wouldn’t be here now. But you protected him, and he made a profit off you while you did it. Why did you need the money, Chingford?”

“Did I not give you enough?” said Flitby harshly. “Is everything you have had not enough?”

“No!” Chingford shouted. “No, it isn’t!”

Will flicked a look at Kim. He was still perched on the chair back, watching his father and brother, but he looked over as if he felt Will’s gaze and their eyes met.

Kim crossed his legs deliberately at the ankles. “Did you know it was Fairfax blackmailing you at the time?”

“No,” Chingford said.

“Then what was the row at the Club about?”

“He demanded money. Three thousand.”

Will choked. Kim said, “Ripe. Was that on top of the monthly payment, or instead of?”

“I don’t know. I told him to go to hell. He said he’d give me a day to find the money. Asked me the next day, in the dining room, if I had it. I said no and he said he’d call Father. I told him to go to the devil.”

“And then? What did you do about this man who was blackmailing you, who had threatened to expose you?”

“Nothing.”

Will made an exasperated noise. Kim said, “Really?”

“I didn’t kill him!” Chingford shouted. “I didn’t and nobody can prove I did! You wait and see, I’ll be cleared of all this, and then you’ll regret it. I didn’t do a damn thing. I was asleep in the reading room and I’ve nothing else to say!”

“You’re a liar,” Kim said. “Why would he threaten to call Father, rather than the police or the newspapers? And what happened to your handkerchief?”

“Eh?”

“Your bloodstained handkerchief was in Quiller’s possession, along with a sum of money. Where did he get that? Did he find it at the Club? In the billiard room?”

“I don’t know!”

“He had it and he’s dead. Was he blackmailing you too? Did you have him killed for it?”