Though he spoke gravely, with secret delight he noticed signs of breaking down. Miss Moran shivered and slow, long sobs shook her frame. He remained silent and then at last he heard what he had been hoping for.
‘Oh,’ she cried piteously, ‘but this is terrible altogether! I never thought anything like this would happen to me. I didn’t mean any harm and now look at the trouble I’m in. You’ll make it as easy as you can for me if I tell you?’
‘I have already promised, Miss Moran. Not only that, but you’ll feel a weight off your mind. You can’t have been happy with this going on.’
‘Happy! I’ve been miserable. God only knows how miserable I’ve been. And if I have been making money, sure I’ve paid for it by the terror I’ve been in. I’ll tell you everything.’
She was sobbing freely and French once more urged her to control herself lest attention should be drawn to her. Presently in rather tremulous tones she began.
‘The whole thing happened just as you say, Mr French. Every day I go to business by the tube and it was there I met the girl you spoke of. We got to be the best of friends, but all the time I was wondering where she got her money. One day I asked her, and she told me about the betting at Monte Carlo. She said if I would like a go at it she would arrange it for me, all just as you said. She said the bookmaker would meet us here. He did and he was the very man you described. Och, but he was a terrible man, Mr French! There was something about his eyes that would give you the cold shivers. He was the man you mentioned anyway, for I saw the scar on his wrist.’
‘Ah,’ said French with satisfaction. ‘Did he tell you his name?’
‘He did. It was Style.’
‘Good! That’s the man. And did you stake?’
‘I did, and I won first and then I lost. At that time Gwen Lestrange had got a job out of London and had gone away, but I met her by chance and she asked me how I was getting on. When I told her she said she thought her cousin could help me and she introduced me to him. That was Mr Welland.’
French was highly pleased. At last he was making progress. Welland and Style had been concerned in the death of Thurza Darke, and already he had Welland under observation. A little more of that observation would undoubtedly lead him to Style.
He wondered why the two scoundrels had changed their respective roles. In Thurza Darke’s case, Welland (or Westinghouse) had been the bookmaker and Style the cousin. In Molly Moran’s, Style was the bookmaker and Welland the cousin. Probably, thought French, to divide equally both the risks and the responsibilities. With some surprise he also noted that while Welland had taken the precaution to change his name, Style had not troubled to do so. No doubt for this also there was a reason.
‘Well, and what did Mr Welland say to you?’
The girl was evidently trying hard for self-control. She succeeded in choking down her sobs, but her voice was still tremulous as she went on.
‘He was as pleasant and friendly as you’d wish. He said he was sorry about my difficulties and that he could offer me a job which would not only get me out of them, but would pay me well besides. And it wouldn’t interfere with my work at the cinema, for all he wanted could be done between times when I wasn’t selling tickets. He said it was the fine easy job, but it had one thing about it that I mightn’t like, and then he looked at me and asked me was I very straightlaced in my ideas.
‘Well, as a matter of fact, Mr French, I’m not straightlaced at all. So I said not, and he said that was fortunate, as it was the only drawback the job had. There were some straightlaced people who might object to it, but not ordinary men and women of the world. Anyway it was safe enough and absolutely moral and no one would ever know anything about it. Besides, I needn’t go on with it unless I wanted to.
‘I asked him what the job was and he said that was going too fast, he would have to have my word first to carry it out for at least a week. After that I could go on or not, as I liked. He said that if I promised, he would begin by giving me enough to square Mr Style. Then he said that maybe I would like a day or two to think it over and that I could come back and see him again.’
‘A plausible ruffian,’ French commented, now speaking in his pleasantest tones. ‘I’m sure that’s just what he said to your predecessors. And what did you answer?’
The girl hung her head.
‘Well, Mr French, I’m not pretending I didn’t do wrong, but just think of my position. I had only my job to live by and I was going to lose it in a way that would have prevented me getting another. Then there was this job offered me, maybe not just all right, but safe anyway. It was a choice of two evils; of possible ruin if I accepted or of certain ruin if I didn’t. I took the chance.’
‘Of course you did. I can see the fix you were in and I’m not blaming you.’
‘Well, to make a long story short, I told Mr Welland I would take his job. He smiled and shook hands and congratulated me. He said I’d never be sorry for what I was doing and then he handed me ten pounds, saying that here was part of the money I owed Mr Style and that if I paid this much, Mr Style would certainly give me time to meet the rest. He made me sign an I.O.U. for it, and he said I had better go and pay Mr Style at once.
‘Next time Mr Style came to the Gardens I was waiting for him. He was very threatening at first, but when I showed him the ten pounds it changed his manner. He said he was glad I wasn’t going to make trouble and that he would take that on account and give me three more weeks to find the other fifteen. He was so pleasant that in spite of the job I felt easier in my mind than I had for many a day.’
‘I don’t wonder,’ French commented. ‘I think you did what any other girl would have done in your position, though I suppose I should not say so.’
‘Mr Welland had given me an appointment for two hours later and I met him in Hyde Park. He told me that one of his friends was in the Mint and had unexpectedly found a crate full of old half-crowns in a disused cellar. He supposed they had been called in for renewal and been forgotten. The friend did not see why they should lie there, and he began taking some home every evening. But he was afraid to get rid of them, for some of them bore the Mint rejection mark. He had consulted Mr Welland as to how this might be done, and that was where I came in. My job would be to pass out the half-crowns to the public. Every morning Mr Welland would give me so many and I was to pay them out in change at the paybox. For every half-crown I paid out I was to put another aside from the till for Mr Welland, and when I met him next day I was to hand these over to him, less a percentage.’
‘And did you believe his story?’
The girl hung her head.
‘No,’ she admitted in a low voice, ‘but as he put it, it didn’t seem so bad. He said the whole business, so far as I was concerned, was perfectly honest. The half-crowns were good and worth their full value. My cash at the cinema could be examined at any moment and would be found O.K. The only thing the most straitlaced could object to was his friend’s taking these old coins from the Mint in the first instance. But I had nothing to do with that.’
‘And once again, did you believe that?’
‘No,’ and the girl’s voice was very mournful, ‘and I said I didn’t to Mr Welland. But it was no good. He said that if I felt the slightest qualms about the matter, not to go on with it on any account at all. He would be the last person to press me to do what I thought wrong. I had only to hand him back his ten pounds and I would be clear of it.’
‘He had you there.’
‘He had me so that I couldn’t wriggle. I begged him to let me go, but he said ten pounds were ten pounds, and that he couldn’t afford to lose all that money and get nothing against it. Then I said I would tell the police the whole thing. That annoyed him. He advised me just to try it. He asked me did I imagine my story would be believed? There was I without a scrap of proof, but he had my I.O.U. He said if I went to the police it would be me that would go to prison for perjury and defamation of character.’
‘So you agreed to pass the mon
ey?’
‘What else could I do, Mr French? I owed fifteen pounds to one of these men and ten to the other, and both said they would get me the sack if I didn’t pay. And I hadn’t any money and they wouldn’t give me time.’
Here, thought French in high delight, was something tangible at last! A gleam of light was beginning to illumine these mysterious happenings. With keener interest he went on.
‘You said less a percentage?’
‘Yes, ten per cent. One half-crown in every ten they let me keep.’
‘And how many do you change per day?’
‘Well, of course it varies, but it would be a bad day that I wouldn’t change a hundred. The most I ever did was a hundred and forty-five.’
‘Bless my soul, you’ve not been doing so badly! What have you been making? Eight or ten pounds a week?’
‘About that. As I say, it varies, but I generally get at least eight.’
French was astonished. No wonder this gang secured loyal helpers! With her ordinary wages this girl must be in receipt of something not far short of six hundred a year. He had certainly frightened her to some purpose if she was willing to risk the loss of such an income.
‘H’m,’ he said with grim pleasantry. ‘It really looks like a case of your money or your life. But I don’t want to keep you here too long. From what you tell me it would be better that we shouldn’t be seen together. Just explain how you carry the half-crowns to and from the cinema.’
‘In my vanity bag.’ She was about to open it, but French checked her.
‘Don’t show me,’ he said. ‘Explain.’
‘There are three compartments in this bag. The centre one is like an ordinary bag, and I keep my own things in it, handkerchief and so on. The two side ones shut with a spring, and unless you examined the bag very carefully, you wouldn’t know they were there. One of these spring compartments is coloured red inside and the other green. In the red one are the half-crowns from Mr Welland. As I take them out I put other half-crowns from the till into the green one. Sometimes I don’t get all Mr Welland’s changed, and the colours keep them separate.’
‘Why do you only put in half-crowns? Wouldn’t two shillings and a sixpence from the till do as well?’
‘I don’t know. Mr Welland told me to put in half-crowns only.’
Evidently to keep the percentage of coins of various values normal in the till, French imagined. If so, it showed an attention to detail which deserved success. He thought rapidly whether he had got all the information he could expect from this particular source, and decided that he had.
‘Now, Miss Moran,’ he said earnestly, ‘you must be careful of yourself for a few days. Go straight home after your show and keep to populous streets. Even in the daytime avoid lonely places. Don’t accept a message from anyone you don’t know. Most important of all, don’t get into any kind of a private car or taxi. This is not to frighten you, but to keep you safe. A few days and we’ll have the gang and then you will be all right. One thing: if you notice anything in the least degree suspicious, ring me up—Victoria 7000. You will find plenty of help if you’re in trouble. You understand all that?’
‘Oh, yes, Mr French. And I can’t say how glad I am to have told you. I was making money all right, but no money would be worth the terror I’ve endured. Mr Welland was always telling me that if the thing leaked out I was done for. It would be the sack for certain and maybe prison as well. I’ve been perfectly wretched and the relief is just beyond words.’
French nodded gravely as the girl finished speaking. Another explanation of the affair had just flashed into his mind, an explanation so obvious that he could not understand why he had not instantly thought of it. These coins had never seen the Mint! They were forgeries. He would have staked long odds that he was on to a gang of (counterfeit) coiners.
If so, he must get hold of some samples without delay.
‘What have you got in your bag now?’ he asked. ‘Coins from Mr Welland or from the till?’
‘From the till. These are the coins I changed yesterday. I’ll find Mr Welland’s parcel in the car in an hour’s time.’
‘Of course. I should have known that. Now, I’ll see you again at the Panopticon. You’ll be sent for by the manager. Take your bag with you. Do you see?’
‘Very good, Mr French. I’ll remember all you have told me.’
‘Well, my last word to you is three don’ts: don’t be frightened, don’t let Mr Welland suspect our meeting, and don’t do anything rash,’ and wishing her a pleasant good afternoon, he strolled out of the Gardens.
13
The Transport of Supplies
Inspector French continued his stroll along the Embankment until he reached the Yard. There, after an interview with his chief, he got a cheque for ten pounds, and going to the nearest bank, asked for the money to be paid in half-crowns. With his pockets weighted down with the silver he went on to the Panopticon and asked for the manager. As a result of his conversation he was shown into a waiting room, where presently he was joined by Molly Moran.
‘You here already, Mr French?’ she greeted him.
‘Yes. I want to get hold of some of those coins. Here is ten pounds worth of half-crowns. Just count me out eighty of Mr Welland’s.’
‘But there’s nothing remarkable about them at all. They’re just ordinary half-crowns. I’ve shown them to a friend of mine in a bank, and he said so too.’
‘Oh,’ said French, ‘so a bank clerk has seen them, has he? But were you not afraid to tell him about them?’
‘I didn’t tell him at all. What I thought was that maybe they weren’t good, that maybe Mr Welland’s friend was making them—counterfeit coining, don’t you call it? So I showed my friend four and said they had been refused on the grounds that they weren’t good. He said they were perfectly all right.’
‘Oh,’ French repeated more dubiously. ‘Well, I’ll have the eighty all the same. You might let me see that bag now that we can’t be overlooked.’
It was just what Miss Moran had described, a plain but large vanity bag with a central compartment of normal appearance, and two side ones, each capable of carrying some hundred and fifty half-crowns and fitted with an inside skin or bag which could be lifted out with the coins. When these side compartments were closed by their spring latches they were invisible to casual inspection, though if the bag were handled their existence became obvious. French was not surprised therefore to learn that Welland had given the strictest instructions that the bag was to be carried looped on the girl’s arm, and never taken off except when she was actually working in the paybox.
But his interest in the bag was but slight compared with that he felt in the coins which Miss Moran had received from Welland. There were 130 and he tumbled them out on a table and began to turn them over.
His first glance surprised him and increased that feeling of depression which the girl’s story of the bank clerk had aroused. That they were not new was undoubted; all had clearly been in circulation. Moreover the dates varied, and roughly speaking, the wear on any individual coin corresponded with its age.
Welland’s story was unlikely enough at the best, but here already was proof of its falsity. These coins had not been recalled from circulation because of age or wear. They were still perfectly good.
French swore internally as he realised the conclusion to which he was being forced. If these coins were of different dates and had been in circulation, they were not forgeries. Dies were expensive and difficult to make and it was beyond belief that a series with different dates should have been obtained. Again, once the coins had been got into circulation, the counterfeiters would have finished with them. They would not be trying to get rid of them now.
He set himself to re-examine the samples with greater care. And the more he did so, the more convinced of their genuineness he became. So far as his lens revealed the design, the detail seemed perfect, the colour, feel and texture were normal, and every coin which he tested gave a satisfactory
ring. He would, of course, have them examined by the experts at the Mint, but he had little doubt his own conclusion would be confirmed.
If so, it seemed to follow that the coins had been stolen. But he could not think of any source from which they might have been obtained. It was absurd to suppose they had been taken from the Mint. Coins of such an age and in such a condition would not be there. Nor did it seem likely that a bank had been robbed. Such an operation would be extremely difficult, and further, if it had been found possible, it was difficult to see why half-crowns alone had been taken. The only explanation which French could devise was that some eccentrically-minded miser had spent his life hoarding them. But if so, and Welland had stolen them, why should he hesitate to pay them out himself?
On this latter point, however, a little further thought supplied an explanation. The one feature of the affair which was clear beyond doubt was that it was being carried out on a very large scale. If Miss Moran changed eight hundred half-crowns a week, it was to be presumed that each of the other girls did the same. Say, three thousand half-crowns a week—150,000 a year! Nearly £19,000 worth. No one man could do it. Without some such organisation as had been devised, the thing would be out of the question.
And then French saw that he had made a mistake. This consideration did not answer his question. For every half-crown Welland gave the girls, he received one in exchange. How did he get rid of these latter? How did he get rid of them?
He simply could not do it! He had been watched too carefully. French did not believe he could have passed even small things like packages of ‘snow.’ How much less comparatively bulky bags of half-crowns! Once again French swore, this time half aloud.
‘Beg pardon, Mr French?’
His attention was recalled to the girl, whom in his abstraction he had forgotten.
‘Just a little habit of mine,’ he said, the twinkle reappearing in his eyes. ‘I think that’s all I want. I’ll take eighty of those half-crowns of Welland’s and give you eighty of mine in exchange. Then you must carry on as usual.’
Inspector French and the Box Office Murders Page 13
