“I know,” Arthur rasped. He looked down at his arm. It looked like he’d been paintballed with a splat of scarlet.
“That’s just a scratch.” Graystock huffed. He rolled up his trouser leg to reveal a melted wax patch of skin reaching from his ankle to his knee. “That is a proper injury. You were lucky. Tigers aren’t pets that you can come and stroke, you know.”
“I didn’t come to see the tigers.”
“No? Then why were you playing wrestling with Elsie?”
Arthur opened and closed his mouth. The accusation that he was playing was ridiculous. “I came to see you.”
“Me? Ha! Can’t you ring the doorbell like a normal person?”
“I’ve traveled a long way. I couldn’t go without speaking to you.”
“At first I thought you were one of the local youngsters playing dare. A couple of times I’ve caught a poor teenage lad, hanging by his T-shirt from the railings, terrified and begging for help. You’re lucky that Elsie just wanted to play with you.” He sat back on his heels. “Don’t you think you’re too old for acrobatics?”
“Yes. Yes, I am.”
“You’re not one of those animal rights activists?”
Arthur shook his head. “I’m a retired locksmith.”
Graystock grunted. He helped Arthur to his feet. “Let’s get you inside and get you a bandage for your arm.”
“I think I may have twisted my ankle, too.”
“Well, don’t even think about trying to sue me. A journalist tried it once, when one of the tigers wanted to play and scratched his shoulder. I’ll warn you now that I don’t have a penny to my name.”
“I’m not going to sue you,” Arthur said. “This is my own fault. I’ve been an idiot.”
*
The manor smelled of damp, furniture polish and decay. The entrance hall was all white marble and the walls were lined with portraits of Graystock’s ancestors. The floor was paved with black-and-white-checkered tiles like a huge chessboard. An oak staircase swerved from the center of the hallway. The manor was run-down. Arthur couldn’t imagine paying ten pounds to look around it, but that was the price displayed on a desk opposite the door as they walked in. The house had been grand once. But now paint peeled from the ceiling mural of swooping cherubs and swathes of red curtain.
Graystock led the way and Arthur limped a few paces behind. He wasn’t sure which part of his body hurt the most.
“The house has been in my family for years. I only use a few rooms now,” Graystock said. “I can’t afford to live here but I don’t want to move out. Come through.”
Arthur followed him into a dark room stuffed with leather armchairs and in which roared a real open fire. Over the stone mantelpiece was a Pre-Raphaelite-like painting of a lady in a white flowing dress. She was sitting on the grass with her arms draped around a tiger that nuzzled under her chin. He peered more closely to make sure that it wasn’t Miriam. It wasn’t.
As he lowered himself into a comfy green leather chair next to the fireplace, Graystock poured brandy into a tumbler. “No, I...” Arthur protested.
“You’ve stared death in the face, man. You need a drink.”
Arthur accepted it and took a sip.
Graystock sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the fire. He took a swig from the neck of the brandy bottle. “So why are you here, prowling around my garden and upsetting my girls?”
“Girls?”
“My tigers, man. You got Elsie overly excited.”
“That wasn’t my intention. I’m here to ask you about my wife.”
“Your wife?” Graystock frowned. “Has she left you?”
“No.”
“Was she one of my harem?”
“You really had a harem?” He thought of Bernadette telling him about Graystock’s lifestyle—of wild parties and orgies.
“Well, of course. I had money. I had good looks. What man wouldn’t do the same in my circumstances?” He picked up a small brass bell off the hearth and rang it. “Alas, I am a man of considerable age now. I have one woman and she is more than enough.”
After a few minutes a woman entered the room. She wore a flowing blue robe fastened with a silver chain belt. Her ink-black hair hung down to her waist. Arthur recognized her as the lady from the painting, though older now. She walked over to Graystock, leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. Then the two of them growled at each other.
Arthur sat in stunned silence. He imagined what Miriam’s response might be if he had ever summoned her by bell. Or if he’d growled at her. He’d have been the recipient of a pair of oven gloves batted around his head.
“This is Kate. She’s been unfortunate enough to be my wife for thirty years and has lived with me for longer than that. Even when I squandered my fortune on drink and drugs, she stayed with me. She saved me.”
Kate shook her head. “Silly. I didn’t save you. I loved you.”
“Then love saved me.”
Kate turned to Arthur. “Don’t be perturbed by the bell. It’s a simple way for us to communicate in the house. I have one, too.”
“This man...” Graystock pointed.
“Arthur.”
“Yes. Arthur is here to find out more about his wife. He clambered over our railings and I had to save him from Elsie.” He frowned as he tried to remember. “What exactly do you want to find out?”
“My wife left this address in a letter. In 1963.”
“Hmm, 1963.” The lord roared with laughter. “I can hardly remember what I had for my tea last night never mind that long ago.”
Arthur sat more upright in his chair. “Her name was Miriam Pepper.”
“Never heard of her.”
“Miriam Kempster?”
“No.”
“I have this.” Arthur took the charm bracelet from his pocket.
“Aha,” the lord said. He leaned over and took the bracelet. “Now that is something I can help you with.”
He weighed it in his hand, then stood and walked over to a black-and-gold lacquered cupboard and opened the door. From inside he took out a glass bowl, then handed it to Arthur. In it were a pile of gold charms, maybe fifty in total. All were tigers. All were identical.
“This is where your charm probably came from. I had a thousand made in the sixties. They were tokens of my...appreciation.”
“Appreciation?”
Graystock wagged his finger. “I know what you are thinking, my man. Trinkets in return for sexual favors.” He laughed. “In some instances, yes. But I also gave them to friends and associates, as well as lovers. They were my calling card.”
“He loves tigers,” Kate said. “We both do. They’re like the children we never had.”
Lord Graystock gave her a squeeze and planted a kiss on her forehead.
Arthur stared forlornly at the tigers in the bowl. He poked in his finger and gave them a swirl. He thought that the tiger on Miriam’s charm bracelet might have a hidden relevance, as the elephant did. But the striped beast was just one of a thousand sisters. He wondered which of Graystock’s categories Miriam fell into. Was she a friend, an associate or a lover? He knocked back the rest of his brandy in one. Kate took the bowl from him and placed it back in the cupboard.
“I’m sorry.” Graystock shrugged. “Lots of people have stayed here over the years and I have the memory of a goldfish. I can’t help you.”
Arthur nodded. He tried to stand but then a pain jerked in his ankle and he fell back into the chair.
“Don’t try to move,” Kate said, her voice full of concern.
“Aarggh.”
“Where are you staying?”
“I’ve not made any plans.” He felt tired, shaken now. “I stayed at a B and B last night. I didn’t think it would take me so long to get here and I hadn’t planned to be accosted by a tiger.” He really didn’t want to call Bernadette to collect him. She needed to focus on Nathan.
“Stay here with us for the night,” Kate urged. “I can dress your wound properly. And you may need a tetanus jab when you get home.”
“I had one last year.” He thought back to when a snappy terrier had sunk its teeth into his hand as he had reached down for a roll of wrapping paper in the post office. Perhaps he was put on this earth for animals to attack.