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Author:\376\377\000s\000s\000i\000n\000e\000w
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-two

The second and third days of the Calpurnia voyage were calm, both the weather and the first-class section of the ship. The news of the death of a passenger cast a pall over the voyagers. Mrs. Charles Boothroyd was confined to quarters under the constant supervision of the ship’s doctor and attending nurses. She had gone into hysterics upon hearing the news of her husband and it had been necessary to administer large doses of sedatives.

By the third day, with revived health, the optimism of most passengers revived.

Elizabeth Wyckham Scarlatti and her young table escort made it a point to part company after each meal. By ten-thirty every night, however, Matthew Canfield let himself into her quarters to take up his post lest there be a recurrence of the Boothroyd attempt, it was an unsatisfactory arrangement.

‘If I were a hundred years younger, you might pass yourself off as one of those distasteful men who perform services for middle-aged adventuresses.’

‘If you used some of your well-advertised money to buy your own ocean liner, I might get some sleep at night.’

These late-hour conversations served one good purpose, however. Their plans began to take shape. Also Canfield’s responsibilities as an employee of Elizabeth Scarlatti were diplomatically discussed.

‘You understand,’ said Elizabeth, ‘I wouldn’t expect you to do anything detrimental to the government.

Or against your own conscience. I do believe in a man’s conscience.’

‘But I gather you’d like to make the decision about what’s detrimental and what isn’t?’

‘To a degree, yes. I believe I’m qualified.’

‘What happens if I don’t agree with you?’

‘We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.’

‘Oh, that’s great!’

In essence, Matthew Canfield would continue submitting his reports to Washington’s Group Twenty with one alteration—they first would be approved by Elizabeth Scarlatti. Together they would, through the field accountant, make certain requests of his office they both felt necessary. In all matters of physical well-being, the old woman would follow the instructions of the young man without argument.

Matthew Canfield would receive ten payments of ten thousand dollars each commencing with the first day in London. In small American bills.

‘You realize, Mr. Canfield, that there’s another way to look at this arrangement.’

‘What’s that?’

‘Your office is getting the benefit of my not inconsiderable talents for absolutely nothing. Extremely beneficial to the taxpayers.’

‘I’ll put that in my next report.’

The basic problem of the arrangement had not been resolved, however. For the field accountant to fulfill his obligations to both employers, a reason had to be found explaining his association with the old woman. It would become obvious as the weeks went by and it would be foolish to try to pass it off as either companionship or business. Both explanations would be suspect.

With a degree of self-interest, Matthew Canfield asked, ‘Can you get along with your daughter-in-law?’

‘I assume you mean Ulster’s wife. No one could stand Chancellor’s.’

‘Yes.’

‘I like her. However, if you’re thinking about her as a third party, I must tell you that she despises me.

There are many reasons, most of them quite valid. In order to get what I want I’ve had to treat her quite badly.

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