Sins Of The Fathers by Rendell Ruth

Author:Rendell, Ruth [Rendell, Ruth]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub, mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

10

And if he hath not before disposed of his goods, let him be admonished to make his will ... for the better discharging of his conscience and the quietness of his executors.

—The Visitation of the Sick

"You don't seem to have got very far,' said Charles. He sat down in an armchair and surveyed the pleasant lounges. The maid who was operating a floor polisher thought him very handsome with his rather long fair hair and his scornful expression. She decided to give the lounge a more than usually thorough do. "The great thing is to be businesslike about it. We haven't got all that long. I start at the brewery on Monday week." Archery was rather nettled. His own parochial duties were being overlooked. "I'm sure there's something fishy about that fellow Primero, Roger Primero. I rang him up before I got here last night and I've got a date to see him this morning at half eleven." Archery looked at his watch. It was almost ten.

"You'd better get a move on, then. Where does he live?"

"You see? Now if I'd been in your shoes that's the first thing I'd have found out. He lives at Forby Hall. I suppose he fancies himself as the lord of the manor." He glanced at his father and said quickly, "Be all right if I have the car?"

"I suppose so. What are you going to tell him, Charles? He might have you thrown out."

"I don't think he will," Charles said thoughtfully. "I've found out a bit about him and it seems he's mad keen on publicity. Always trying to create an image. He hesitated, then added boldly, "I told him I was the top features man on the Sunday Planet and we were doing a series on tycoons. Rather good, don't you think?"

"It doesn't happen to be true," said Archery.

Charles said rapidly, "The end justifies the means. I thought I could put across a line about his early life being dogged by misfortune, father dying, grandmother murdered, no prospects—that sort of thing. And look at him now. You never know what will come out. He's supposed to be very forthcoming to the Press."

"We'd better go and get the car out."

It was as hot as ever, but more sultry. A thin mist covered the sun. Charles wore an open necked white shirt and rather tapering trousers. Archery thought he looked like a Regency duellist.

"You won't want to start yet," he said. "Forby's only about four miles away. Would you like to look round the place?"

They walked up to the High Street and over the Kingsbrook bridge. Archery was proud to have his son beside him. He knew they were very much alike but he didn't for a moment deceive himself they might be taken for brothers. The heavy muggy weather had brought on a twinge of lumbago and today he had utterly forgotten what it felt like to be twenty-one. "You're reading English," he said to Charles. "Tell me where this comes from." His memory hadn't begun to fail, at any rate.

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