wrong with him. He was slightly excitable,
that was all. He appeared to me perfectly
capable of managing his own affairs. Anyway,
after I got back to Africa and had talked
things over with Pat, I decided that I’d come
home and—what shall we say—see fair play.”
He shot a glance at Percival as he spoke.
“I object,” said Percival Fortescue. “I
object strongly to what you are suggesting. I
was not intending to victimise my father, I
was concerned for his health. I admit that
I was also concerned . . .” he paused.
Lance filled the pause quickly.
“You were also concerned for your pocket,
eh? for Percy’s little pocket.” He got up and
all of a sudden his manner changed. “All
right, Percy, I’m through. I was going to
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string you along a bit by pretending to work
here. I wasn’t going to let you have things all
your own sweet way, but I’m damned if I’m
going on with it. Frankly, it makes me sick to
be in the same room with you. You’ve always
been a dirty, mean little skunk all your life.
Prying and snooping and lying and making
trouble. I’ll tell you another thing. I can’t
prove it, but I’ve always believed it was you
who forged that cheque there was all the row
about, that got me shot out of here. For one
thing it was a damn bad forgery, a forgery
that drew attention to itself in letters a foot
high. My record was too bad for me to be able
to protest effectively, but I often wondered
that the old boy didn’t realise that if I had forged his name I could have made a much
better job of it than that.”
Lance swept on, his voice rising, “Well, Percy, I’m not going on with this silly game.
I’m sick of this country, and of the City. I’m
sick of little men like you with their pinstripe
trousers and their black coats and their
mincing voices and their mean, shoddy
financial deals. We’ll share out as you
suggested, and I’ll get back with Pat to a
different country–a country where there’s
room to breathe and move about. You can
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make your own division of securities. Keep
the gilt-edged and the conservative ones, keep
the safe 2 per cent and 3 per cent and 3V2 per
cent. Give me father’s latest wildcat speculations
as you call them. Most of them are
probably duds. But I’ll bet that one or two of
them will pay better in the end than all your
playing safe with three per cent Trustee
Stocks will do. Father was a shrewd old devil.
He took chances, plenty of them. Some of
those chances paid five and six and seven
hundred per cent. I’ll back his judgment and
his luck. As for you, you little worm …”
Lance advanced towards his brother, who
retreated rapidly, round the end of the desk
towards Inspector Neele. “All right,” said
Lance, “I’m not going to touch you. You
wanted me out of here, you’re getting me out
of here. You ought to be satisfied.” He added
as he strode towards the door, “You can
throw in the old Blackbird Mine concession
too, if you like. If we’ve got the murdering
MacKenzies on our trail, I’ll draw them off to
Africa.” He added as he swung through the
doorway, “Revenge–after all these years–
scarcely seems credible. But Inspector Neele
seems to take it seriously, don’t you, Inspector?”
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“Nonsense,” said Percival. “Such a thing
is impossible!”
“Ask him,” said Lance. “Ask him why he’s
making all these inquiries into blackbirds and
rye in father’s pocket.”
Gently stroking his upper lip. Inspector
Neele said:
“You remember the blackbirds last summer,
Mr. Fortescue. There are certain grounds for
inquiry.”
“Nonsense,” said Percival again. “Nobody’s
heard of the MacKenzies for years.”
“And yet,” said Lance, “I’d almost dare to
swear that there’s a MacKenzie in our midst.
I rather imagine the Inspector thinks so,
too.”
II
Inspector Neele caught up Lancelot Fortescue
as the latter emerged into the street
below.
Lance grinned at him rather sheepishly.
“I didn’t mean to do that,” he said. “But I