Temporary Kings - Anthony Powell [83]
‘How much of the book have you done?’
‘I might have roughed out the first quarter.’
He spoke of some of his discoveries. From various sources, he had unearthed material about Trapnel’s early life in Egypt. Perhaps concentrating on Egypt had given Gwinnett the Near East look. He could list, among other things, racehorses Trapnel’s father had ridden, and their owners. There were striking facts about the schools Trapnel had attended, which were many and various. Gwinnett had worked hard.
‘Have you traced any of the girls?’
‘I have.’
Tessa, who had immediately preceded Pamela as object of Trapnel’s love, was doing extremely well. She was secretary, evidently a high-powered one, to the chairman of a noted firm of merchant bankers. Tessa had been helpful to Gwinnett in a straightforward way, giving him a clear, unvarnished account of Trapnel’s daily life, its interior economy, seen from the point of view of an intelligent, capable mistress, who wanted her lover to become a success as a writer. Although retaining affectionate memories of Trapnel, she decided in due course, she said, that he lacked the necessary stamina. That was an interesting first-hand view. Gwinnett had appreciated its good points.
‘Then there was Pat.’
Pat, now married to a don, Professor of Social Science, had been less willing to have her past dredged up. She had replied with a tactful letter saying she preferred not to see Gwinnett.
Sally was dead. That was all he had been able to find out about her.
‘I’d have liked to know more – how and why she died.’
Jacqueline had married a journalist, and was living abroad, where her husband was foreign correspondent to a daily paper. Linda could not be traced.
‘Did you know Pauline?’
‘I never met her. I’ve heard Trapnel speak of her. He thought her depraved. Those were his words. They remained on good terms after parting.
‘I ran Pauline to earth.’
‘What’s she doing?’
‘She’s become a call-girl.’
‘Trapnel said that was where Pauline would end.’
‘Well, not much short of that, I’d say.’
Gwinnett seemed uncertain whether or not to qualify the description. He thought for a moment, then decided against amendment.
‘I went to see her. She told me some facts.’
‘Such as?’
‘What some of her clients like.’
‘Anything out of the usual run?’
‘Not much, I guess.’
‘I’d have thought Trapnel pretty normal.’
‘She said he was.’
Gwinnett changed the subject. I thought he had abandoned it. I was wrong. He was choosing another conversational angle, one of his habits, at times effected in a manner a little disconcerting.
‘Did Lindsay Bagshaw say there’d been some trouble at his place?’
‘I haven’t seen him, but I heard something of the sort. I knew you’d left.’
‘You heard Lady Widmerpool kicked up a racket there?’
‘Her name was mentioned.’
‘As raising hell?’
‘Well, yes.’
‘If you run across Lady Widmerpool, do you mind not telling her my address?’
‘OK.’
‘You heard about Lord Widmerpool being denounced on the radio as a British agent? Lindsay Bagshaw talked his head off about it. I’m not that interested in politics, though I couldn’t but be interested in such a thing happening. Just because of all the Trapnel tie-up with her. What do you think?