Lessons in Solving the Wrong Problem - Charlie Cochrane Page 0,50
more circumstantial evidence in support of our theory.”
“It was also better than calling him Fitzbyrd or Fitzmichael and giving the game away.”
Further information came care of Mrs Stewart, who telephoned a few days later. She and Eliza Billings had indulged in high tea at the Savoy and been very taken by one of the waiters, who reminded Jonty’s mother of Orlando.
“Such poise and dignity, dear and such a severely handsome face. Eliza suggested he was the son of a bishop who was working there under cover, I believe the phrase is, to gain an understanding of what it means literally to serve.”
A strange noise from the extension suggested that Orlando was suppressing a snort.
“Sorry, dear? I didn’t quite catch that.”
“It’s the line, Mama. Very odd noises it’s making.” Next time Orlando could explain for himself. “What about Christine Saggers?”
“Eliza thinks it’s entirely possible that she was with child. Apparently—as well as the filling out of her figure—there was some change to her complexion, which Eliza put down to the country air having taken away her pallor, but it could, of course, have been what some ladies develop when they’re expecting.” Mrs Stewart pronounced the verdict with finality. “It would also have been a piece with her character not to have relied on the father of a child for support, nor to have made a big fuss about things. I’m afraid Christine died some dozen years ago so you can’t ask her. Papa has news about the son.”
“Excellent. Thank you for all your continuing efforts,” Orlando chipped in. “We simply could not do half that we do without you.”
“Oh, it’s a pleasure, my dear.” With what sounded like the onset of tears, Mrs Stewart said goodbye and her husband’s voice came on the line.
“What have you been saying to your mother to make her so overcome?”
“Orlando has been charming her with profuse thanks, of course.” Jonty chuckled. “With me it’s only my misdeeds bring her to tears. You have news for us?”
“Yes. Your William Fitznagel’s birth certificate gives his age as roughly ten years younger than Lord Henry and his mother as Christine Fitznagel, widow of Richard Fitznagel. Richard was Lord Michael’s middle name, of course.”
Orlando whistled, thankfully not too loudly or shrilly. “Falsifying a birth certificate. How did she get away with it?”
“Perhaps she knew the registrar and he turned a blind eye? I daresay she won’t have been the first nor will be the last to embroider the facts in such a way. Your mother and I have been discussing it and—I’m not sure whether to be proud of this or ashamed at having such a devious turn of thought—that we have constructed a whole edifice of half-truths in which a child could be hidden.” That mixture of pride and embarrassment was evident in Mr Stewart’s voice.
“I’d be inclined to say ‘Jolly well done!’ Papa. Tell all.”
“First we considered William’s baptism. No matter if you have a friendly parish priest, it would be hard to stand at the font under a false name. So, we wondered if he’d been baptised in his first few days of life, as a sickly—or supposedly—sickly child, who might not live too long. You can’t be baptised twice so that would avoid having it done later. If Christine’s brother had stood as godparent then she might have been able to tell the truth when she said his house had passed to his godson.”
“Excellent notion, Papa. It could be checked in the parish register, of course, assuming it was the local Anglican priest who did so and not some other denomination. Rather out of my sphere of knowledge.” But yet more proof of where Jonty had acquired his questioning nature. “What came second in your thinking?”
“If the child was said to be delicate, that could provide an excellent cover for keeping him at home. Not letting him mix much with other children or go to a school, even Sunday school.”
Orlando cut in. “Yes. That might also go towards explaining why he’d taken to wandering. Needed his freedom.”
“All children do, my lad. Now, while I was about my business, I thought I might try to find a photograph of this chap Fitznagel but the Army and Navy Gazette didn’t prove much help so I confess I gave up.”
“Not to worry, Papa. We’ve an appointment to see him on Saturday so we can compare him with Lord Henry first hand. The family has a distinct nose, one that can be seen in all the portraits of the