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“And one who's currently travelling down the carriageway, by thelooks of it, what!” Jankyn noted from where he stood by the window.“There's a growler approaching.”
Lushington blew out a breath and rubbed his hands on the sidesof his trousers. “Well, Mr. Hawkins-ahem!-let's go and cast oureyes over, that is to say, have a look at, the man who says he'sRoger Tichborne. Gentlemen, if you'd be good enough to wait here,I'll introduce the Claimant and his lunatic lawyer presently.”
The two men left the room.
Swinburne crossed to the window just in time to see thehorse-drawn carriage pass out of sight as it approached theportico.
“What do you think?” he asked Jankyn quietly. “Swindler orprodigal?”
“I'll reserve my judgement until I see him and he makes hiscase, what!”
Burton, who was standing beside one of the large bookcases withDetective Inspector Trounce, caught his assistant's eye.
With a nod to Jankyn, the poet left the window and walked overto the explorer, who pointed to a leather-bound volume. Swinburneread the spine: De Mythen van Verloren Halfedelstenen by MatthijsSchuyler.
“What of it?” he asked.
“This is the book that tells the myths of the three Eyes ofNaga.”
“Humph!” the poet muttered. “Circumstantial evidence, I'llgrant, but the ties between the Tichbornes and the black diamondsappear to be tightening!”
“They do!” Burton agreed.
Bogle entered carrying a decanter and some glasses. He put themon a sideboard and started to polish the glasses with a cloth,preparing to offer the men refreshment.
The door opened.
Colonel Lushington stepped in and stood to one side. His eyeswere glazed and his jaw hung slackly.
Henry Hawkins followed. He wore an expression of shock, and washolding a hand to his head, as if experiencing pain.
“Gentlemen,” the colonel croaked. “May I present to you DoctorEdward Kenealy and-and-and the-the Claimant to the-to the Tichborneestate!”
A man entered behind him.
Dr. Kenealy possessed the same build as William Trounce; he wasshort, thickset, and burly. However, where the Scotland Yard manwas mostly brawn, the lawyer was soft and ru
His head was extraordinary. An enormous bush of dark hair and avery generous beard framed his broad face. His upper lip wasclean-shaven, his mouth was wide, and he wore small thick-lensedspectacles behind which tiny bloodshot eyes glittered. The overalleffect was that of a wild man of the woods peeking out from denseundergrowth.
He jerked an abrupt nod of greeting to each of them in turn,then said, in an aggressive tone: “Good day, sirs. I present-”
He paused for dramatic effect.
“-Sir Roger Tichborne!”
A shadow darkened the doorway behind him. Kenealy movedaside.
A great mass of coarse cloth and swollen flesh filled the portalfrom side to side, top to bottom, and slowly squeezed through,before straightening and expanding to its full height and breadth,which was simply enormous.
The Tichborne Claimant was around six and a half feet tall,prodigiously fat, and absolutely hideous.
A towering, blubbery mass, he stood on short legs as thick astree trunks, which were encased in rough brown canvas trousers. Hiscolossal belly pushed over the top of them, straining his waistcoatto such an extent that the material around the buttons had rippedand frayed.
His right arm was long and corpulent, stretching the stitchingof his black jacket, and it ended in a bloated, plump-fingered andhairy hand. The left arm, by contrast, seemed withered below theelbow. It was shorter, and the hand was that of a more refined man,smooth-ski
The enormous round head that squatted necklessly on the wideshoulders was, thought Burton, like something straight out of anightmare. The face, which certainly resembled that of RogerTichborne, if the portrait in the dining room was anything to goby, appeared to have been roughly stitched onto the front of theskull by means of a thick cartilaginous thread. Its edges werepulled tautly over the flesh beneath, causing the features todistort somewhat, slitting the eyes, flaring the nostrils, andpulling the lips horribly tight over big, greenish, tombstoneteeth.
From behind this grotesque mask, dark, blank, cretinous eyesslowly surveyed the room.
The head was hairless, the scalp a nasty spotted and blemishedyellow, and around the skull, encircling it entirely like a crown,were seven irregular lumps, each cut through by a line ofstitches.
There came a sudden crash as Bogle dropped a glass.
The butler clutched at his temples, grimaced, then, his eyesfilling with tears, he said: “My, sir! But how much stouter youare!”
The creature grunted and attempted a smile, pulling its lipsback over its decayed teeth and bleeding gums. A line of pinkishdrool oozed from its bottom lip.
“Yaaas,” it drawled in a slow, rumbling voice. “I-not-the boy-Iwas when I leave Tichborne!”
The statement was made hesitatingly, and dully, as if it camefrom someone mentally impaired.
“Then you recognise my client?” Kenealy demanded of Bogle.
“Oh, yes, sir! That's my master! That's Sir RogerTichborne!”
“By thunder! What nonsense!” Hawkins objected. “That-that person-may possess a passing likeness in the face but he is blatantlynot-not-”
He stopped suddenly and gasped, staggering backward.
“My head!” he groaned.
Colonel Lushington emitted a strangled laugh and dropped to hisknees. Doctor Jankyn hurried forward and took the colonel by theshoulders.
“Are you unwell?” he asked.
“Yes. No. No. I think-I think I have a-I'm dizzy. It's just amigraine.”
“Steady!” the doctor said, pulling the military man to his feet.“Why, you can barely stand!”
Lushington straightened, swayed, pushed the physician away, andcleared his throat.
“My-my apologies, gentlemen. I feel-a bit-a bit… If Sir Rogerwill permit it, I shall-retire to my room to-to lie down for anhour or so.”
“Good idea!” Kenealy said.
“You go,” the Claimant grunted, lumbering into the centre of theroom. “You go-lie down now. Feel better. Yes.”
To the other men's amazement, Colonel Lushington, who'd gonefrom calling the creature “the Claimant” to “Sir Roger” in lessthan a minute, stumbled from the room.
“What the deuce-?” Trounce muttered.
Doctor Jankyn a
The Claimant's meaty right hand enveloped the doctor's and shookit.
“So much for reserving judgement!” Swinburne whispered toBurton. “Although he might be right. Maybe this isn't an imposterat all!”
Burton gazed at his assistant in astonishment.
Hawkins shook his head, as if to clear it. He turned toJankyn.
“You don't mean to suggest that you also recognisethis-this-?”
“Why, of course I do!” Jankyn cried. “This is young SirRoger!”
“It is-good to see you-Mr-Mr-?” the creature rumbled.
“Doctor Jankyn!” the physician supplied.
“Yes,” came the reply. “I remember you.”
Hawkins threw up his hands in exasperation and looked across atBurton, who shrugged noncommittally.
“And who might you gentlemen be, may I ask?” Kenealy enquired,in his brusque, belligerent ma
“I am Henry Hawkins, acting on behalf of the relatives,” thelawyer snapped, bristling.
“Ah ha! Then advise them to not oppose my client, sir! He hascome to take possession of what's rightfully his and I mean to seethat he gets it!”
“I think it best we save discussions of that nature for thecourtroom, sir,” Hawkins responded coldly. “For now, I'll restrictmyself to that which courtesy demands and introduce Sir RichardFrancis Burton, Mr. Algernon Swinburne, and Detective InspectorWilliam Trounce of Scotland Yard.”