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our most wench-ridden royal product.'
'Edward IV. Yes, I know. A six-foot hunk of male beauty. Perhaps Richard suffered from a resentment at the contrast. And that accounts for his willingness to blot out his brother's seed.'
This was something that Grant had not thought of. 'You're suggesting that Richard had a suppressed hate for his brother?'
'Why suppressed?'
'Because even his worst detractors admit that he was devoted to Edward. They were together in everything from the time that Richard was twelve or thirteen. The other brother was no good to anyone. George.'
'Who was George?'
'The Duke of Clarence.'
'Oh. Him! Butt-of-malmsey Clarence.'
'That's the one. So there were just the two of them -Edward and Richard I mean. And there was a ten-year gap in their ages. Just the right difference for hero-worship.'
'If I were a hunchback,' young Carradine said musingly, 'I sure would hate a brother who took my credit and my women, and my place in the sun.'
'It's possible,' Grant said after an interval. 'It's the best 'explanation I've come on so far.'
'It mightn't have been an overt thing at all, you know. It mightn't have even been a conscious thing. It may just have all boiled up in him when he saw the chance of a crown. He may have said - I mean his blood may have said:
"Here's my chance! All those years of fetching and carrying and standing one pace in the rear, and no thanks for them. Here's where 1 take my pay. Here's where I settle accounts."
Grant noticed that by sheer chance Carradine had used the same imagined description of Richard as Miss 'Payne-Ellis. Standing one pace in the rear. That is how 'the novelist had seen him, standing with the fair, 'solid Margaret and George on the steps of Baynard's Castle, watching their father go away to war. One pace in the rear, 'as' usual'.
'That's very interesting, though, what you say about Richard being apparently a good sort up to the time of the' crime,' Carradine said, propping one leg of his horn-rims with a long forefinger in his characteristic gesture. 'Makes him more of a person. That Shakespeare version of him, you know, that's just a caricature. Not a man at all. I'll be very pleased to do any investigating you want, Mr Grant. It'll make a nice change from the peasants.'
'The Cat and the Rat instead of John Ball and Wat Tyler.' -
'That's it.'
'Well, it's very nice of you. I'd be glad of anything you can rake up. But at the moment all I pine for is a contemporary account of events. They must ,have been country-rocking events. I want to read a contemporary's account of them. Not what someone heard-tell about events that happened when he, was five, and under another regime altogether.'
'I'll find out who the contemporary historian is. Fabyan, perhaps. Or is he Henry VII? Anyway, I'll find out. And meanwhile perhaps you'd like a look at Oliphant. He's the modern authority on the period, or so I under-stand.'
Grant said that he would be delighted to take a look at Sir Cuthbert.
'I'll drop him in when I'm passing tomorrow -.1 suppose it'll be all right if I leave him in the office for you? - and as soon as I find out about the contemporary writers I'll be In with the news. That suit you?'
Grant said that that was perfect.
Young Carradine went suddenly shy, reminding Grant of the woolly lamb which he had quite forgotten in the interest of this new approach to Richard. He said good night in a quiet smothered way, and ambled out of the room followed by the sweeping skirts of his topcoat.
Grant thought that, the Carradine fortune apart, Atlanta Shergold looked like being on a good thing.
8
'WELL,' said Marta when she came again, 'what did you think of my woolly lamb?
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