The Unbelievers Read Online Free Page B

Allerdyce.
    â€œI should prefer it strongly if you permit the sergeant to stay,” said Allerdyce.
    â€œVery well, then.”
    Arthur linked his hands behind his back and looked out the window for an instant, where the great bare branches of the parkland’s oaks and elms stood motionless in the cold winter’s day. He turned his attention back to his visitors.
    â€œMy brother is not a good man,” he said. “It is a profound grief to me – both personally and professionally – that I have been unable to persuade him to adopt a Christian mode of life.
    â€œObviously, I grieve for his own soul. If he had shown the slightest signs of regeneration I could believe that my prayers for his salvation were having some effect. But, as it is, I have no such grounds for hope and I have become increasingly resigned to the expectation that my brother has irrevocably shut his heart against Our Saviour, and has consigned himself to the flames of eternal torment.
    â€œI must also confess to grief – and, I freely admit – anger that my brother has not treated the Duchess with the consideration she deserves. Their marriage brought together the two branches of my family which were thrust asunder for four generations, but William has behaved towards her as if the estrangement still continued. He has spoken of Josephine most insultingly in front of strangers, and she has confided to me the cruel mistreatment which she has suffered from him in private.”
    â€œMost unfortunate, sir,” said Allerdyce. “And may I ask how this relates to his disappearance?”
    Arthur wrung his hands. As he did so, he imagined himself crushing a tiny figure of his accursed brother between them.
    â€œWilliam has often boasted to me, with no consideration to my holy office, about his exploits in Edinburgh. From time to time – not infrequently – he will creep out of Dalcorn House by the servants’ entrance in the dead of night and walk across country to Dalcorn Station, whence a late train can bring him to Edinburgh in half an hour. Once there he can spend his time and money in gambling, dog-fighting and whoring until he returns to his concerned wife under cover of darkness the next night, with some incredible story about how confidential business had necessitated his absence.”
    â€œVery concerning, sir,” said Allerdyce. “And would you be able to offer us any specific indication of the establishments His Grace has frequented?”
    â€œI’m sorry, Inspector, but my brother did not confide those details to me or, if he did, I am unable to recall them specifically.”
    â€œI see.” Allerdyce folded his notebook up and put it back in his pocket. “Trust me, sir, the information which you have been able to give us is most helpful. I don’t think we need trouble you any further at this stage.” The Inspector stood, and the sergeant followed his lead.
    Arthur crossed the room to the bellcord and pulled it again.
    â€œTell me,” he said, “are you concerned for my brother’s safety?”
    â€œAt the moment we are only making routine enquiries, sir. I think it is far too early to make any gloomy suppositions.”
    â€œI’m most reassured to hear that, Inspector.”
    The servant opened the door again. Arthur shook hands with Allerdyce and accepted McGillivray’s bow before they were ushered out and the door closed. Left alone in silence, except for the gentle crackling of the fire, he went back over to the table and poured himself a glass of sherry, his hand shaking as he did so.
    If William was missing he must have come to harm in one of the debauched fleshpots he visited. He could be lying, injured, in a gutter somewhere. Or he could be dead.
    God forgive me, he thought, turning back and looking into the leaping and twining flames. There is part of me that would rejoice at my brother’s death, if only for Josephine’s