He stood before her as straight as a metal rule, which made him look taller. His chin was shaved to a millimetre of its life. He should grow one of those silver-bristle moustaches on his top lip, Sybil thought. It would be terribly becoming. A moustache would be thrilling.
Feversham’s neck was throttled by a stiff white collar attached, by a gold stud, to a raspberry-coloured shirt. Above the stud, knotted tightly, was his striped regimental tie. He wore a waisted double-breasted suit in discreet charcoal hues. A yellow silk handkerchief spilled rakishly out of his breast pocket. His stepped-bottom trousers were creased sharper than a knife’s edge and his elastic-sided boots would have shamed a mirror.
‘Why, Fever, you look exceedingly dashing, but then I wouldn’t have it any other way,’ Sybil said. Her heart was beating fast. ‘A proper Beau Brummel.’
‘I was wondering if I might have a word?’
‘Of course. Won’t you sit down?’
‘No, thank you. I prefer to stand.’
‘I don’t suppose you slept well, did you? Or is it your back? You poor darling. I expect you were cold?’
‘Not really. Only a bit.’
‘I meant to give you an electric blanket, but it would have been no use since there is no electricity. You could have had a fire in your room of course, if only I’d thought about it!’
‘Look here, Sybil –’
‘I promised I would teach you to play “bumble-puppy” chess, didn’t I? It’s rather fun. Shall we have a game? Or is it too early in the morning for games? You look too solemn for words. Do you intend to propose to me?’
He cleared his throat. ‘I would very much like to do that – but I need to talk to you first.’
‘How infuriatingly intriguing. I need to have a cigarette, I simply must.’ She picked up the silver cigarette case from the desk and took out a cigarette. ‘De Retzke. They still make them, you know. A small shop in Bond Street. All right, Fever. Out with it.’ She flicked a lighter. ‘What’s all this about?’
‘I’ll come straight to the point. I am Oswald Ramskritt’s half-brother. Or rather was.’
‘Go on. Don’t stop! Why did you stop?’
‘It was Oswald who phoned me. He asked me to come over to Sphinx Island and take the part of your brother. He explained about the Murder Game you were putting on. Neither of us was to divulge that we were related. I was to say that it was Mrs Garrison-Gore who employed my services, that I’d done acting jobs for her in the past.’
‘Why didn’t Oswald want people to know you were his half-brother?’
Feversham inclined his head. ‘He wanted me to spy on Ella.’
‘Spy on Ella? Are you serious? Why in heaven’s name did he want you to do that?’
‘Oswald was an extremely controlling man. He had a very strange relationship with poor Ella, as you may have gathered. She had been his mistress. He no longer loved her, but he enjoyed maintaining a hold over her. Ella’s friendship with Doctor Klein bothered him. It annoyed him that they should have become so close. He talked to me about it. He said it disturbed him. I believe he was also jealous, in an odd kind of way. I don’t think he was entirely normal. He seemed to suspect Ella and Doctor Klein were having an affair.’
‘Did he really? Of all the grotesque ideas! Do be an angel and pass me that ashtray, would you?’
‘He believed they were conspiring against him. Oswald gave every impression of being as arrogant as hell, but I think that deep down he felt terribly insecure. He was keen to know what Ella and Klein did when they were alone together. What they talked about. What she said to Klein and what Klein said to her. He wanted me to eavesdrop on them. To watch them. He thought they would be less suspicious of me if they didn’t know I was his half-brother.’
‘What exactly is a “half-brother”?’ Sybil held the cigarette away from her eyes.’
‘We had the same mother – but different fathers. My mother is completely ga-ga these days, but she was married to a Ramskritt, then to a Bonwell. Clement Bonwell is my father. He is also still alive.’
‘Is your name really Bonwell?’
‘Yes. Do you like it?’
‘It’s a charming name, though I must admit I prefer “Feversham”. Do go on, don’t stop, don’t stop. The whole thing is so utterly, so deliciously bizarre. I don’t suppose you enjoyed being Oswald’s spy and spying on poor Ella?’
‘I didn’t spy on Ella. I said I would do it, but I hated the idea, you see, so I only pretended to be spying on Ella.’
‘I suppose he paid you?’
‘He paid me yes. He paid me extremely well.’
‘You are one of the most decent fellows I have ever met, Fever … Was that why I kept seeing you walk up and down the stairs and lurking in corridors? You invariably had an insouciant air about you. Hands in pockets, whistling Ain’t Misbehavin’.’
‘That was part of my spying act, yes. I did it only when Oswald was about. I didn’t really eavesdrop on Ella and Klein. When I reported back to Oswald, I said that their conversations were completely innocent and not of the slightest importance. They were most certainly not having an affair. Oswald seemed disappointed. I must admit I didn’t care for Oswald, but I wanted him to think I was doing exactly what he’d asked me to do … As I said, I needed the money.’
‘My poor darling. Are you poor?’
‘Poor as a rat. Completely broke.’
‘It would be splendid being married to a man with no money since you tend to appreciate little treats so much. I read that somewhere. I must say I prefer poor people to rich people. In that respect I take after mama. She was a Socialist, you know. The Duke of Westminster should be made to pay more tax; I do feel strongly about it. Rich people incline towards callous egotism and careless extravagance.’
‘As a matter of fact, Syb, I am no longer poor. I am getting most of Oswald’s fortune.’
‘Are you really? This is terribly exciting. Actually, I don’t mind you being rich at all. That means you can buy the island off me now – no, sorry. I keep forgetting you abhor the sea. You get mal-de-mer. We are so alike! But wait a minute. How can you be sure you are getting most of Oswald’s fortune?’
‘He sent me a copy of the will. He wanted me to know I was his main legatee.’
‘That may have been an elaborate practical joke. Oswald was the kind of fellow papa would have dismissed as “second-rate”. He wore a toupee.’
‘He was unpredictable all right, but I do believe he was serious about the will,’ said Feversham. ‘He hardly knew me, but he found me amusing. Besides, he was fond of mother – before she lost her mind, that is. He said he couldn’t cope with irrational behaviour as it unsettled his equilibrium, though of course he paid all the fees for her upkeep. Mother is in a home in Windsor.’
‘Ah the shared mother. Norah, yes? She must have breast-fed the two of you. That’s the sort of thing that makes a big difference. Did Oswald leave Ella anything at all in his will, do you know?’
‘Not a penny.’
‘What a bounder. But he must have left her something. They’d lived together for ages. She did so much for him. Running errands and cooking and making phone calls and changing her dresses each time he told her to. No? What a bounder.’
‘He was not a good man. Something very wrong with him, actually. He left nothing to Maisie either.’
‘Maybe he was waiting to see which way things would go with Maisie?’ Sybil mused. ‘She did blot her copy-book, poor child, didn’t she, when she turned down his advances. These American girls are a mystery to me. An English girl would have taken a thing like that in her stride. She would have lain back and thought of England.’
‘I will be a very rich man, Sybil.’
‘Why the long face then? You aren’t worried someone will say you killed him, are you?’
‘Major Payne seems to have tumbled onto my secret,’ said Feversham. ‘Payne is awfully good at making connections between things. Oswald was very silly, you see. He talked to me about my father. He thought he was being funny. It happened when the Paynes first arrived, remember?’
‘You mean the silly talk?’
‘Yes. Oswald and I managed to exchange family information under the guise of silly talk. We thought we were being clever, but Major Payne’s proved to be cleverer. Major Payne is the kind of fellow who would be terribly good at teasing anagrams from recalcitrant master phrases, wouldn’t you say?’
‘Oh he is a major pain.’ She waved an impatient hand. ‘Who does he think he is? An exemplar of a superior purpose? God Himself? You know the kind of thing. Everything is uncovered and laid bare before the eyes of Him to whom we must give account. Don’t tell me he suspects you of killing Oswald. The idea is preposterous.’
‘Not that preposterous. Once my true identity is revealed,’ Feversham said, ‘I will be suspect number one. The police will take a special interest in me, of that I have no doubt. I am sure I’ll make a bad impression. When I am nervous, I find myself reduced to blubbering incoherence.’
‘I find that hard to believe.’
‘I tend to say all the wrong things. Even if in the end they decide it’s Doctor Klein who did it, suspicion will linger. There’s bound to be talk …’
‘Most people are fools. Never submit to hypocritical hysteria, that’s my motto,’ Sybil said firmly. ‘I never imagined you cared what self-appointed arbiters of moral orthodoxies might be saying.’
Feversham’s hand went up to his tie. ‘You don’t really think I killed Oswald, do you?’
‘Of course not … If you killed Oswald, that would mean you killed Doctor Klein as well … Not that it would make a scrap of difference to the way I feel about you, if you did kill them, you know. Souls come in pairs, but when we are born they are split in two and we spend all our lives trying to find the other half … Now I have found you and you have found me … I find this public passion for justice and retribution such a bore anyway … But did you kill them?’