William Warwick was just about to solve the crime when the phone rang. Harry still had the gun in his hand as he walked across the library and picked up the receiver.
‘It’s Professor Inchcape. Can I have a word with Sir Harry?’
Fiction was replaced by fact in a cruel moment. Harry didn’t need to be told the results of the blood tests. ‘Speaking,’ he said.
‘I’m afraid my news isn’t what you were hoping for,’ said the professor. ‘Sir Hugo’s blood type turns out to be Rhesus negative, so the possibility of him being your father can’t be eliminated on those grounds.’
Harry telephoned Ashcombe Hall.
‘Harvey here,’ said the voice he knew so well.
‘It’s Harry, sir. I’m afraid you’re going to have to phone the Lord Chancellor and tell him the debate will be going ahead.’
45
GILES HAD BECOME so preoccupied with getting elected to the House of Commons as the Member of Parliament for Bristol Docklands, and Harry was so involved with the publication of William Warwick and the Case of the Blind Witness, that when they received an invitation to join Lord Harvey at his country home for Sunday lunch, they both assumed it would be a family gathering. But when they turned up at Ashcombe Hall, there was no sign of any other member of the family.
Lawson did not escort them to the drawing room, or even the dining room, but to his lordship’s study, where they found Lord Harvey seated behind his desk with two empty leather chairs facing him. He didn’t waste any time on small talk.
‘I’ve been informed by the Lord Chancellor’s office that Thursday September 6th has been reserved in the parliamentary calendar for a debate that will determine which of you will inherit the family title. We have two months to prepare. I will be opening the debate from the front bench,’ said Lord Harvey, ‘and I expect to be opposed by Lord Preston.’
‘What’s he hoping to achieve?’ asked Harry.
‘He wants to undermine the hereditary system, and to do him justice, he doesn’t make any bones about it.’
‘Perhaps if I could get an appointment to see him,’ said Harry, ‘and let him know my views . . .’
‘He’s not interested in you or your views,’ said Lord Harvey. ‘He’s simply using the debate as a platform to air his well-known opinions on the hereditary principle.’
‘But surely if I were to write to him—’
‘I already have,’ said Giles, ‘and even though we’re in the same party, he didn’t bother to reply.’
‘In his opinion, the issue is far more important than any one individual case,’ said Lord Harvey.
‘Won’t such an intransigent stance go down badly with their lordships?’ asked Harry.
‘Not necessarily,’ replied Lord Harvey. ‘Reg Preston used to be a trade union firebrand, until Ramsay MacDonald offered him a seat in the Lords. He’s always been a formidable orator, and since joining us on the red benches, has become someone you can’t afford to underestimate.’
‘Do you have any sense of how the House might divide?’ asked Giles.
‘The government whips tell me it will be a close-run thing. The Labour peers will get behind Reg because they can’t afford to be seen supporting the hereditary principle.’
‘And the Tories?’ asked Harry.
‘The majority will support me, not least because the last thing they’ll want is to see the hereditary principle being dealt a blow in their own back yard, although there are still one or two waverers I’ll have to work on.’
‘What about the Liberals?’ asked Giles.
‘Heaven alone knows, although they’ve announced that it will be a free vote.’
‘A free vote?’ queried Harry.
‘There will be no party whip,’ explained Giles. ‘Each member can decide which corridor to go into as a matter of principle.’
‘And finally, there are the cross-benchers,’ continued Lord Harvey. ‘They will listen to the arguments on both sides and then go where their conscience guides them. So we’ll only discover how they intend to vote when the division is called.’
‘So what can we do to help?’ asked Harry.
‘You, Harry, as a writer and you, Giles, as a politician can start by assisting me with my speech. Any contribution either of you would care to make will be most welcome. Let’s start by drawing up an outline plan over lunch.’
Neither Giles nor Harry thought it worth mentioning to their host such frivolous matters as forthcoming general elections or publication dates, as the three of them made their way through to the dining room.
‘When’s your book being published?’ Giles asked as they drove away from Ashcombe Hall later that afternoon.
‘July twentieth,’ said Harry. ‘So it won’t be out until after the election. My publishers want me to do a tour of the country, and carry out some signing sessions as well as a few press interviews.’