“If Chingford is taken from me—another son, and I am left with you—to lose Harry and Chingford and to have you—I could have had Harry! If you had gone to the war, I should still have had Harry! You owe me this!”

Will squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his fists. He could hear Flitby’s harsh breaths.

“I will do what I can,” Kim said at last. “But I repeat, Chingford must cooperate.”

“No, you must,” Flitby snarled. “Make yourself useful to me, for once in your life. Do something for your brother, because if you think you can sit back and get your hands on his inheritance, I will make you regret it till the day you die!”

“I have no doubt of that. I understand your wishes, sir. Peacock will show you out.”

Will lay unmoving, as the old man left in silence. He waited until the front door had opened and shut, and only then did he inch his way out from under the bed.

Kim was rigid and white-faced. Will straightened, brushed the carpet fluff off, and said, “Was it always like that?”

“Mostly.”

Will thought of Kim’s forearms, the thin faded lines of self-inflicted scars. “We could still go to the South of France. You’re paying, mind.”

Kim didn’t even attempt a smile. Will reached for his drawers, and started to dress. “Tell you what, Peacock keeps it clean under your bed. If it had been mine, I’d be sneezing for weeks.”

“Don’t,” Kim said. “Don’t joke this off. It isn’t funny.”

“No, it’s not. I expect it was bloody humiliating.”

“What do you think? To have him speak to me like that, knowing you could hear—”

“I was thinking of the part where a peer of the realm suggested bribing a policeman. What an embarrassment. Is that normal?”

“He’d normally do it himself. Though it wouldn’t be bribing a policeman, it would be a friendly chat with the Chief Constable and nothing spelled out. Christ, he must be desperate. I assume he’s sure Chingford did it.”

“Sounded that way.” Will pulled his shirt on. “Can’t risk the trial because the verdict’s a foregone conclusion, and trying to make that your fault.”

“Which makes me suspect he knows what the row was about,” Kim said grimly. “If the blackmail’s a red herring and the truth is worse— He’ll swing, won’t he? God.”

Will stepped close, and put both hands on Kim’s upper arms, feeling the tension twang through him. “Listen. Fairfax was Zodiac. You’ve got his papers. Your father doesn’t know everything. We aren’t giving up on this till you’ve found out exactly what happened, all right?”

“And what if I confirm he did it, as even my father clearly thinks? It scarcely matters what Fairfax was, if Chingford wielded the ice pick!”