Mr Chilton. ‘If he’s stupid about it, of course the bailiffs will be put in, and I don’t know what else. But that’s entirely a matter for him. Once I’ve got a judgment against him, I wash my hands of the affair, the law will take its course.’
‘But you aren’t going to get a judgment against him, Mr Chilton,’ said David.
‘You don’t even know what a judgment is, David,’ said Mr Chilton.
‘Oh yes, indeed I do, and you aren’t going to ask for a judgment against my father.’
‘Well, my counsel will.’
‘No, your counsel won’t, Mr Chilton.’
‘Well, you come there in the morning and see.’
‘I shall come there in the morning, Mr Chilton, but I shan’t see. At least I shan’t see what you said I shall see.’
‘Well,’ said Mr Chilton, ‘there’s no point in arguing with you.’
‘I quite agree,’ said David, ‘no point at all. But I just want to tell you something. As you rightly said in court, I learned a good number of things at your school, breaking and entering as well as blackmail.’
‘Which did you prefer?’ asked Mr Chilton.
‘On the whole,’ said David, ‘blackmail. Though breaking and entering can help. For example, Mr Chilton,’ went on David, ‘I broke into your study, and bearing in mind that, if a thing is worth doing, it’s worth doing well, I broke open your safe.’
‘I didn’t find anything missing,’ said Mr Chilton.
‘I didn’t take anything,’ said David.
‘Good.’
‘Except–’ said David.
‘Except what?’ asked Mr Chilton.
‘Except information,’ said David.
‘I hope you profit by it, David,’ said Mr Chilton.
‘That is what I’m about to do,’ said David. ‘Mr Chilton, you mentioned during your evidence that you didn’t like the Inland Revenue. Well, that’s no crime. Lots of people don’t like the Inland Revenue. But to keep two different sets of books, one for the Inland Revenue, and one to enable you to count your gains when the shop is closed, I believe is not only contrary to moral principles, but also to the law of the land. And unless, Mr Chilton, you can persuade me not to do so, I’m going to convey to the Inspector of Inland Revenue the information I obtained in the way that I’ve just told you.’
‘Blackmail, David,’ said Mr Chilton.
‘Well, you shouldn’t be surprised,’ said David. ‘You seem to be rather proud of me.’
‘Now, David,’ said Mr Chilton, ‘that’s all very well. Blackmail is one of the most serious crimes known to the law.’
‘I’ve been looking it up,’ said David, ‘I agree.’
‘Well,’ said Mr Chilton, ‘if I go to a policeman and tell him what you’ve been doing, not only will you be charged with blackmail, but they won’t give me away because otherwise no one would ever go to the police when they are being blackmailed. Really, David, I’m rather grateful to you. I have sometimes rather worried about my double set of books. What I said in the witness box about fear of prison in some ways being worse than prison itself was quite true, but you’ve given me the answer, David. We shall now go to the police station where I shall confess my own fault, and accuse you of yours. Mine will be forgiven me, and you will go to prison or a detention centre or some place of safe custody for many, many years. I’m sorry that it should have to be through me, David, but perhaps after all there is some poetic justice in that. You can think of that when you are pacing up and down your cell.’
‘If either of us is going to be pacing up and down his cell,’ said David, ‘it won’t be me, Mr Chilton, but you. Let us go to a police station by all means, and let me tell you what will happen. You will confess that you’ve been keeping a double set of books and accuse me of blackmail. The sergeant will look up the law. He will then ask you what actually is the offence with which you charge Mr David Brooke. And you will say, “threatening to accuse me of a crime if I
Tamara Rose Blodgett, Marata Eros