An Appetite for Murder (26 page)

‘It is, but I don’t want you or
that
touching anything. There’s toolmarks on the door that might be helpful.’

‘Was it a serious attempt do you think?’

‘I would say so, yes. And not an inside man trying to make it look like an outside job. Not this time. If the door hadn’t had special locks they would have got in.’

‘Even if they had,’ interrupted Mr Finn, his voice cracking with the strain, his face shiny with nervous sweat, ‘what would they have achieved? The safe is secure and they could hardly have carried it out of the door. There is nothing else in here to tempt a thief.’

‘Perhaps it wasn’t the safe they wanted,’ said Frances. ‘The company books are still on the premises are they not?’

‘Yes, they are in the storeroom,’ said Finn.

‘But who would want the books?’ said Sharrock. ‘You can’t sell books!’

‘Someone who knows what is in them and doesn’t want it to be found,’ replied Frances.

Sharrock grasped her meaning at once. ‘Oh, I see; financial hanky-panky conjuring tricks,’ he said, nodding. ‘What do you have to say about
that
, Mr Finn?’

‘There is nothing untoward in the books,’ said Finn indignantly, ‘–unless –’ he looked at Frances. ‘Surely you can’t mean –’

‘I fear this may have something to do with some questions I have been asking very recently,’ said Frances, ‘but concerning events that took place in 1866, long before Mr Finn was manager here. The company was then owned by his great-uncle Mr Finn senior, who passed away in 1877.’

‘Oh, so this is all down to you, is it?’ exclaimed Sharrock. ‘Why am I not surprised?’

‘Let us take a look,’ said Frances, marching into the storeroom with the Inspector hurrying at her heels. The ledgers were arranged on deep shelves, and each leather-bound volume bore a neat label on the spine showing to which year it referred. As she walked along the row, she saw a thin film of dust on the outer leather of the older volumes. It took only moments for her to find the ledger for 1866, which, like the others, had not been disturbed for some years. Frances brought it out and laid it on a desk, with Sharrock peering over her shoulder. She opened the book, seeing that the records commenced on the first of January, and were written up by Mr Sweetman. ‘Here we are,’ she said, after turning through the pages, ‘these are the entries made up to the date of Mr Sweetman’s arrest and they are in his hand, which I recognise. Mr Finn, can you identify whose writing this is in the book after Mr Sweetman’s?’

Finn rose wearily from his chair, knuckling the small of his back and wincing in discomfort. He looked like a man just about to faint, which was a worrying prospect, for if he was to do so, it would be some trouble to tend to someone of his bulk. He studied the book. ‘That is my uncle’s hand; I would know it at once. I can find numerous examples of his writing if you wish to compare them.’

‘Is that what you were expecting?’ asked Sharrock.

‘It is,’ said Frances.‘I know that Mr Finn senior did not appoint a new manager when Mr Sweetman was arrested in the hope that he would soon be released, and took on some of his duties while he waited for his return. But there may be something else here that only an expert would be able to find. Mr Sweetman told me that just before the robbery he thought he had found some errors in the accounts and was trying to trace their origin. But perhaps they weren’t errors, perhaps what he had found was evidence of criminality. I think that this is what the robber was hoping to take away. It might not be only in this book, but earlier ones also. He wanted them removed and destroyed before anyone with expertise in accounts had the chance to examine them for fraud.’

‘I don’t suppose you have the name and address of the robber, Miss Doughty?’ said Sharrock, sarcastically. ‘If you do, would you be so kind as to let me know, as it would save me so much time and trouble.’

‘I am afraid I can’t tell you that,’ said Frances. ‘But there were only three people working at this office at the time with the skill to alter the books, and two of them, Mr Finn senior and Mr Whibley, are deceased.’

‘The other being Mr Sweetman, I suppose?’

‘Yes. And he is hardly in a position to commit robbery at present.’

‘Anyone can have a confederate,’ said Sharrock, dubiously.

‘As far as I know the only persons Mr Sweetman has communicated with since his arrest, apart from myself, are his solicitor Mr Marsden and his nephew Mr Curtis, who is a highly respectable dentist. Do you suspect any of us?’

‘No, of course not, but it’s very suspicious that this should happen just after you poked your nose in.’

‘Miss Doughty did come and ask me about the books,’ said Finn. ‘I said she could see them if she could pay for an expert to examine them, but she declined. Given that if there were any mistakes they were made many years ago, I did not trouble myself to look for them.’

‘I also made enquiries of Mr Elliott and Mr Minster,’ said Frances, ‘both of whom were copy clerks here at the time of the 1866 robbery. I see neither of their hands here and would not expect to. Now, Inspector, I suggest that you take this book, and several earlier ones too, and place them in safekeeping, and if there is a man you usually consult in cases of fraud, he should be employed to look at them.’

‘Well, of course Miss Doughty, as you know I have a hundred special city gentlemen, all tip-top financial experts from the very best houses, just waiting for a note from me to do my bidding gratis,’ said Sharrock dryly. ‘I’ll send a telegram to Mr Rothschild this very morning and he’ll be right along.’

‘But if he should be otherwise occupied, I might be able to suggest a Bayswater firm which specialises in commercial fraud and could well be a little cheaper,’ said Frances. She took one of her cards from her pocket and wrote the address of Chas and Barstie’s office. ‘Just say that I sent you.’

‘And what are they supposed to be looking for?’ asked Sharrock, staring at the card.

‘One thousand, five hundred and twenty-five pounds, seven shillings and sixpence,’ responded Frances.

‘That’s a lot!’ said Ratty. ‘I’d be rich if I ‘ad that!’

‘You’d be in prison if you had that,’ said Sharrock. ‘Now scarper, the both of you!’

C
HAPTER
E
IGHTEEN

F
rances and Ratty walked the short distance up the Grove to the offices of the Bayswater Display & Advertising Company, where they found Chas and Barstie in great good humour. Their moods tended to vary with the quality of their clothing, and on that day Chas was resplendently attired in a dashing jacket of the sporting type, mustard-coloured trousers, and a handsome waistcoat to match, embellished with a watch and chain, while Barstie, sitting at a desk heaped with papers, was more sombrely but still freshly suited and dusting off a brand new hat.

‘A coup!’ said Chas, a wide beam of pleasure on his pink face, ‘a veritable coup! I always knew we would do it and we have! You just watch and see, Miss Doughty, we are making our way up in the world. We are thinking of moving to bigger premises already.’ He strode excitedly back and forth, which, given that the office was very small and almost filled with the desk, two lopsided chairs and a pagoda-like edifice made of boxes of papers, was a very short journey.

‘In the City, perhaps?’ asked Frances.

‘Oh no,’ he said, shaking his head very emphatically, ‘there are too many sharks in the City, all fighting for food. We are not sharks, and may never be, but neither are we minnows, not any more. Here is where we will stay, and here is where our interests lie.
All
our interests,’ he added with a significant wink, as if to convey that his ambitions concerning Frances were undiminished. Frances, aware that Chas was more attracted to her financial acumen then either her person or character, hoped that they would remain platonic associates, and that the inevitable rebuff she would have to deliver when he decided it was time to make his formal declaration would not harm their friendship.

Barstie laid aside his hat and gazed at it hopefully. For the last few months, he had been paying his addresses to a young lady of fortune, and his chances of success depended on his position in life. He had not yet attained that measure of either respectability or wealth which was required, but the hat clearly held promise.

‘I think I should mention,’ said Frances, ‘that I have been instrumental in bringing you a very special commission which will, unless I advise you of it now, come as a surprise, and therefore I am here to give you notice. Your new employers will be ones with whom you may not previously have dealt – the Paddington police.’

Both men paled noticeably. ‘What have you done, Miss Doughty?’ exclaimed Barstie, sweeping a pile of letters into a drawer and turning a key in the lock.

‘Please don’t be alarmed,’ said Frances. ‘The exercise can only enhance your reputation in Bayswater.’ She explained the nature of the problem with the books of J. Finn Insurance, and as she proceeded, the two men breathed more easily.

‘Hmm …’ said Chas, thoughtfully, pushing his thumbs into his waistcoat pockets. ‘Special consultants to the police. Not much money involved, but a bundle of respectability, which has its own value and can bring in more business. Yes, I can see how that would benefit us.’

Barstie shook his head.

‘Come now,’ said Chas, ‘the lady will not spurn you for that, in fact, does she not have a cousin well placed in the military who would see it as something in your favour?’

Barstie looked willing to be convinced.

Chas took his silence as consent. ‘We will do it,’ he said.

‘You may expect a visit from Inspector Sharrock very soon,’ said Frances. ‘And of course, anything you can tell me about the businesses of J. Finn Insurance or Anderson, Walsh and Whibley would be very much appreciated.’

That afternoon Frances unexpectedly received a short note from Mr Lathwal of the Vegetarian Society, asking if he might have an appointment to see her later that day, on a matter unconnected with the subject of their recent meeting. She replied that he might call upon her at four o’clock.

Sarah had delivered Frances’ note to Mrs Finn and after taking tea with Mrs Goswell, brought back a reply. Mrs Finn was, as Frances had anticipated, very grateful to discover that her husband had been consulting an expert in healthful diet. She revealed that she had recently had another conversation with him on the subject of his weight, and to her delight had received an assurance that he was willing to bow to her pleas. In view of the brighter weather, she hoped, if the morning mists should rise and the sun appear, that she would take a stroll in Hyde Park with the children after church the next day, and she would be very happy to see and speak to Frances then.

Mr Lathwal arrived promptly at four and sat across the table facing Frances with a mournful expression and fretful manner, his eyelids swollen with lack of sleep. ‘Miss Doughty, I am not sure if you can assist me, but your advice would be most welcome,’ he exclaimed. ‘I have already spoken to a solicitor and I am even considering the police, but then I have nothing to show them. All I have is my worry and my suspicion.’

‘Please explain,’ said Frances.

‘As you know,’ he began earnestly, ‘the cause of vegetarianism means a great deal to me. It is so much more than a diet which is the most healthy and natural one for mankind. It is a principle which benefits the spirit. We live in a busy world full of care and only by abstaining from killing and eating our fellow creatures can we attain a measure of peace. Of course it is a hard thing to persuade others of the wisdom of this path, something I have always endeavoured to do, and I intend to make it my life’s work, but with my poor resources progress is very slow.’

Frances hoped he was not about to try and recruit her to the cause of vegetarianism, which she felt might not suit her, but she let him go on. This was evidently a very troubled young man.

‘You can imagine, therefore, how happy I was to meet Mr Outram, a fine gentleman who became converted to the vegetarian principle while living in India. He often declared himself to be very satisfied with the work I was doing for the cause, and assured me many times that he would leave a substantial property to the Vegetarian Society to use in perpetuity as a centre for the dissemination of information, and also a sum for the purchase of an annuity to be employed in the promotion of vegetarianism. It was to be a very generous bequest.’