The Case of the Somerville Secret by Robert Newman

Author:Robert Newman
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781497685987
Publisher: Open Road Media

10

The Somerville Secret

Wyatt led the way into the police station, opened the door to the small room he had been using as an office and let Somerville precede him into it. His face drawn, Somerville sat down heavily in the chair in front of the desk.

“Would you care for some tea?” asked Wyatt.

“I’d rather have a drink,” said Somerville. “But since that’s probably impossible at this hour … Yes, I’d like some tea.”

Wyatt looked at Sergeant Tucker who nodded and went out, closing the door behind him.

“Do you want to begin now or would you rather wait until you’ve had your tea?”

“Begin what?”

“Don’t you agree that you owe me an explanation?”

“I don’t feel that I owe you anything!” said Somerville with a flash of temper.

“You do admit that you lied to me, misled me in several respects.”

“Yes, I do admit that.”

“Well, will you tell me the truth now?”

“About what?”

“About everything. Who the money in that bag was for, why you’re paying it and what you meant by saying that I had ruined you and loosed something deadly on London.”

“That certainly is everything,” said Somerville heavily. “And even though it won’t do any good, I suppose I should tell you the truth now. The question is where to begin.”

“Would it help any if I told you I know a little about you, your family background?”

“Yes, it would. In that case, I’ll begin with the first great change in my life—my marriage.”

“I understand that it was a very good marriage.”

“Good? It was a wonderful marriage. I’d known Louise for years. Her father, Lord Barham, was a friend of my father’s, and I’d always been in love with her, had no idea she was the least bit interested in me, and could hardly believe it when she accepted me. My mother was dead by then, but my father was still alive and he was almost as happy about it as I was.” He paused. “He was a very fortunate man. For when he died about three years later he knew we were going to have a child, and he was convinced that it was going to be a boy and that all was going to be well with the Randalls.”

“Was he wrong?”

“Yes,” said Somerville in a flat, uninflected voice. “He was wrong.”

Sergeant Tucker came in with three mugs of tea on a tray, gave one to Somerville and one to the inspector. At the same time he gave him a note. Wyatt read it, glanced at Tucker, who had sat down in the corner with his notebook on his knee, and nodded. Somerville took a sip of his tea, then put the mug down and forgot about it.

“I was in London when the child was born. I wish I hadn’t been, not that it would have made any difference in the end, but it wasn’t my fault that I was away. I was to read a paper at the Royal Society; the doctor had told me that the child was not due for about two weeks, so I went.

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