The Sins of the Father - By Jeffrey Archer Page 0,113

don't think so,' said Emma, sitting down on the bed beside him. 'You've tried that twice, and look where it got you.'
Chapter 44
EMMA BURST INTO the library clutching a letter. As she rarely interrupted Harry when he was writing, he knew it had to be important. He put down his pen.

'Sorry, darling,' she said as she pulled up a chair, 'but I've just had some important news that I had to come across and share with you.'

Harry smiled at the woman he adored. Her idea of important could range from Seb pouring water over the cat, to 'it's the Lord Chancellor's office on the phone and they need to speak to you urgently'. He leaned back in his chair and waited to see which category this would fall into.

'I've just had a letter from Great-aunt Phyllis,' she said.

'Whom we all hold in such awe,' teased Harry.

'Don't mock, child,' said Emma. 'She's raised a point that may help us prove Papa wasn't your father.'

Harry didn't mock.

'We know that your blood group and your mother's are Rhesus negative,' continued Emma. 'If my father is Rhesus positive, he can't be your father.'

'We've discussed this on numerous occasions,' Harry reminded her.

'But if we were able to prove that my father's blood group wasn't the same as yours, we could get married. That is assuming you still want to marry me?'

'Not this morning, my darling,' said Harry, feigning boredom. 'You see, I'm in the middle of committing a murder.' He smiled. 'In any case, we have no idea which blood type your father was, because despite considerable pressure from your mother and Sir Walter, he always refused to be tested. So perhaps you ought to write back, explaining that it will have to remain a mystery.'

'Not necessarily,' said Emma, unbowed. 'Because Great-aunt Phyllis has been following the case closely, and thinks she may have come up with a solution neither of us has considered.'

'Picks up a copy of the Bristol Evening News from a newsstand on the corner of sixty-fourth street every morning, does she?'

'No, but she does read The Times,' said Emma, still unbowed, 'even if it is a week out of date.'

'And?' said Harry, wanting to get on with his murder.

'She says it's now possible for scientists to identify blood groups long after the person has died.'

'Thinking of employing Burke and Hare to exhume the body, are we, darling?'

'No, I am not,' said Emma, 'but she also points out that when my father was killed, an artery was severed, so a great deal of blood would have been spilt on the carpet and the clothes he was wearing at the time.'

Harry stood up, walked across the room and picked up the phone.

'Who are you calling?' asked Emma.

'Detective Chief Inspector Blakemore, who was in charge of the case. It may be a long shot, but I swear I'll never mock you or your great-aunt Phyllis again.'

The Sins of the Father

'Do you mind if I smoke, Sir Harry?'

'Not at all, chief inspector.'

Blakemore lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. 'Dreadful habit,' he said. 'I blame Sir Walter.'

'Sir Walter?' said Harry.

'Raleigh, not Barrington, you understand.'

Harry laughed as he sat down in the chair opposite the detective.

'So how can I help you, Sir Harry?'

'I prefer Mr Clifton.'

'As you wish, sir.'

'I was hoping you might be able to supply me with some information concerning the death of Hugo Barrington.'

'I'm afraid that will depend on whom I'm addressing, because I can have that conversation with Sir Harry Barrington, but not with Mr Harry Clifton.'

'Why not with Mr Clifton?'

'Because I can only discuss details of a case like this with a member of the family.'

'Then on this occasion, I shall revert to being Sir Harry.'

'So how can I help, Sir Harry?'

'When Barrington was murdered - '

'He was not murdered,' said the chief inspector.

'But the newspaper reports led me to believe - '

'It is what the newspapers didn't report that is significant. But to be fair, they were unable to study the crime scene. Had they done so,' said Blakemore before Harry could ask his next question, 'they would have spotted the angle at which the letter opener entered Sir Hugo's neck and severed his artery.'

'Why is that significant?'

'When I examined the body, I noticed that the blade of the letter opener was pointing upwards, not down. If I wanted to murder someone,' continued Blakemore, rising from his chair and picking up a ruler, 'and I was taller and heavier than that person, I would raise my arm and strike down into