‘We’re looking for Old Joey,’ said Emma softly.
‘The corporal’s got bench number one, on account of his age and seniority. This is bench number two, and I’ll take over bench number one when Old Joey dies, which shouldn’t be long now. Mr Watson’s got bench number three, so he’ll get bench number two when I get bench number one. But I’ve already warned him he’s going to have to wait a long time.’
‘And do you, by any chance, know if Old Joey is still in possession of a green tweed suit?’ asked Harry.
‘Never takes it off,’ said Mr Stephenson. ‘Grown attached to it, you might say,’ he added with a slight chuckle. ‘He got the suit, I got the overcoat and Mr Watson got the shoes. He says they’re a bit tight, but he doesn’t complain. None of us wanted the hat.’
‘So where will we find bench number one?’ asked Emma.
‘Where it’s always been, in the bandstand, under cover. Joey calls it his palace. But he’s a bit soft in the head on account of the fact he still suffers from shellshock.’ Mr Stephenson turned his back on them, on account of the fact that he felt he’d earned his half crown.
It wasn’t difficult for Harry and Emma to find the bandstand, or Old Joey, who turned out to be its only occupant. He was sitting bolt upright in the middle of bench number one as if he were seated on a throne. Emma didn’t need to see the faded brown stains to recognize her father’s old tweed suit, but how would they ever get him to part with it, she wondered.
‘What do you want?’ said Old Joey suspiciously as they walked up the steps and into his kingdom. ‘If it’s my bench you’re after, you can forget it, because possession is nine-tenths of the law, as I keep reminding Mr Stephenson.’
‘No,’ said Emma gently, ‘we don’t want your bench, Old Joey, but we wondered if you’d like a new suit.’
‘No thank you, miss, very happy with the one I got. It keeps me warm, so I don’t need no other one.’
‘But we’d give you a new suit that would be just as warm,’ said Harry.
‘Old Joey’s done nothing wrong,’ he said, turning to face him.
Harry stared at the row of medals on his chest: the Mons Star, the long service medal and the Victory Medal, and a single stripe that had been sewn on to his sleeve. ‘I need your help, corporal,’ he said.
Old Joey sprang to attention, saluted and said, ‘Bayonet fixed, sir, just give the order and the lads are ready to go over the top.’
Harry felt ashamed.
Emma and Harry returned the next day with a herringbone overcoat, a new tweed suit and a pair of shoes for Old Joey. Mr Stephenson paraded around the park in his new blazer and grey flannels, while Mr Watson, bench number three, was delighted with his double-breasted sports jacket and cavalry twills, but as he didn’t need another pair of shoes, he asked Emma to give them to Mr Stephenson. She handed the rest of Sir Hugo’s wardrobe to a grateful Miss Penhaligon.
Harry left the park with Sir Hugo Barrington’s bloodstained lovat-green tweed suit.
Professor Inchcape studied the blood stains under a microscope for some time before he offered an opinion.
‘I’ll need to carry out several more tests before I make a final assessment, but on a preliminary inspection, I’m fairly confident that I’ll be able to tell you which blood group these samples came from.’
‘That’s a relief,’ said Harry. ‘But how long will it be before you know the results?’
‘A couple of days would be my guess,’ said the professor, ‘three at the most. I’ll give you a call as soon as I find out, Sir Harry.’
‘Let’s hope you have to make the call to Mr Clifton.’
‘I’ve phoned the Lord Chancellor’s office,’ said Lord Harvey, ‘and let them know that blood tests are being carried out on Hugo’s clothes. If the blood group is Rhesus positive, I’m sure he’ll ask the Law Lords to reconsider their verdict in light of the fresh evidence.’
‘But if we don’t get the result we’re hoping for,’ said Harry, ‘then what?’
‘The Lord Chancellor will schedule a debate in the parliamentary calendar soon after the House is reconvened after the general election. But let’s hope Professor Inchcape’s findings make that unnecessary. By the way, does Giles know what you’re up to?’
‘No, sir, but as I’m spending the afternoon with him, I’ll be able to bring him up to date.’
‘Don’t tell me he’s talked you into doing a stint of canvassing?’
‘I’m afraid so, although he’s well aware I’ll be voting Tory at the election. But I have assured him that my mother and Uncle Stan will both be supporting him.’
‘Don’t let the press find out that you won’t be voting for him, because they’ll be looking for any opportunity to drive a stake between the two of you. Bosom pals is not on their agenda.’
‘All the more reason to hope that the professor comes up with the right result and we’re all put out of our misery.’
‘Amen to that,’ said Lord Harvey.