The Dorich House Mystery (The Ralph Chalmers Mysteries Book 3)

by P. J. Thurbin

  “Food is on its way.”

  “Have you heard any more from the police about the Rabinsky case?” Asked Katie as she took a cautious sip of her strong hop-smelling, slightly warm ale.

  “Not a lot, although I believe Inspector Linham was going to speak with Grant Richardson about that report Sarah received.”

  “So the mysterious Sarah Winton is on the scene again. She seems to pop up wherever there’s trouble.” He could see that Katie was not enamored with his colleague.

  “Granger told me something about Sarah that I’m not really meant to talk about, but I think I should tell you in light of all that’s been going on.”

  “Oh no, don’t tell me that she and Granger are having an affair and you walked in on them at a delicate moment?” She said with a feigned look of astonishment.

  “Don’t be an ass. No it’s a bit more serious than that.”

  He told her about the Serbian cleaner trying to intercept Sarah’s mail and how the University had decided to cover things up and his promise to let the thing drop.

  “But now that the memory stick has turned up and we know about the modern copies of the paintings, I’d like to speak to the cleaner. I wonder if she’d be prepared to tell me who paid her to intercept Sarah’s mail,” said Ralph as he thanked the barman who placed their meal on the well-worn table.

  “Hey, if she’s Serbian she probably speaks Russian. It was compulsory in school back when Yugoslavia was under Soviet control. She would probably also be happier talking to a woman. So when do I go to see her?”

  Ralph was always struck by Katie’s determination to take action; and that usually meant that she also wanted to be the senior partner in their little duo.

  “I guess you’re right. But first I’ll have to get Janet to make some enquiries from some of her contacts in admin. That way she can discreetly get the cleaner’s address for me. I don’t want it getting back to Granger that I’m telling tales out of school.”

  “Usual daily rate, eh guvnah?” Katie quipped, doing her best to sound like a cockney.

  “Just let me do the jokes and you concentrate on eating that giant piece of cod without my having to practice the Heimlich maneuver. The last thing I want is to have to explain to your parole officer how you came to a grisly end in a riverside pub in Putney.” They both laughed as they enjoyed their meal and the camaraderie of each other’s company.

  Janet phoned Ralph the next day with the cleaner, Anna Kravishili’s, last known address. He called Katie right away and she was practically out of the door before he could even put the phone down.

  It was a grey tenement block in South London on a direct bus route to the University. At first Anna was reluctant to talk to her, but once Katie had explained that she was not with the police or the University, she relaxed. A few stories about Katie’s time in Holloway Prison and conversing in Russian soon found the pair talking like old friends.

  Anna explained that she had been given money by a man she had met at Dorich House when she was cleaning some of the exhibits. Katie showed her a photo of Grant Richardson at a chess tournament that Ralph had cut out of an old Cambridge student magazine. Anna said she recognized him as the same man, although he hadn’t told her his name. She explained that he had asked her to intercept Professor Winton’s letters at the art school on the Knights Park campus. She was to look for a small package and send it to a post office box somewhere in London. She had not found any packages and had destroyed the paper with the PO Box number because she was afraid that if the police found out she would be deported. After Katie assured her that what she told her was in strict confidence and that she would not tell the police, Anna also told her another piece of interesting information. Later that night Katie phoned Ralph.

  “Well we know who bribed Anna. It was Grant Richardson.”

  Ralph was shocked. He couldn’t see why Grant would have gone to those lengths to obtain the first report.

  “He obviously wanted to make absolutely certain that no one knew about the modern copies,” said Ralph.

  “Anna also told me that he paid her to get her brother to do those break-ins at Dorich House.”

  “That sounds a bit more sinister. It sounds like Anna and her brother have a lucrative little mini mafia business right here in Surrey.”

  “But nothing was stolen,” Katie reminded him.

  “Evidently Grant orchestrated the break-in to get media attention around his paintings and in that way stimulate the market prior to selling them.”

  “I guess so. If he put the word around that they were the likely target of the break-in then there would be no end of speculation as to whether they were the originals and not copies, even eighteenth century copies,” Katie said.

  “What did you tell Anna that you were going to do with what she told you?”

  “She is pretty worried that she and her brother will get deported if all this comes out. So I told her we would keep all of this under wraps for now. And when it all came out we would do our best to argue that she had helped catch the criminals.”

  “I’m not sure if we can do that, Katie. But I will talk to Inspector Linham tomorrow and try and gage his reaction. He is a bit tetchy about my amateur sleuthing so I need to be a bit circumspect. Whatever happens, Grant has got some explaining to do. And the police will be delighted to know that the attempted burglaries can be explained and likely won’t happen again.”

  “I’ll leave that side of it to you, Ralph. Best if I keep a low profile with the police.”

  “Don’t worry, I won’t let on that I have my own ‘Sergeant Wilson’ doing the footwork. I’ll call you after I’ve spoken with Linham. Have a good night’s sleep; you’ve earned it.”

  Having hung up he tried to think through his next move.

  Ralph was in the habit of listening to the late night foreign news service and he turned it on before settling down in his study with his single malt. The announcer’s voice broke into his thoughts.

  It has just been reported that Boris Sarovsky was shot and killed outside a famous night club in Moscow. The Russian police believe it was the work of a Chechen mafia crime group. Sarovsky was a well- known art dealer and collector.

  Ralph couldn’t believe what he had just heard. Was this all connected to the two deaths in England and Grant Richardson’s paintings? He spent a restless night as images of mafia hit-men and gilt framed paintings swirled around in his dreams.

  Early the next morning he was awakened by a phone call from a desperate sounding Sarah Winton.

  “I hope I didn’t awaken you, Ralph, but I simply had to phone you. I was up practically the entire night sick with worry.”

  “It’s only 6:30,” Ralph said as he glanced at the digital display on his radio. But never mind, I’m awake now.”

  “Late last night I had a call from an old friend about those modern copies that Grant Richardson had made,” Sarah went on without the hint of an apology for phoning at such an uncivilized hour. She explained how Beatrice Mannings had phoned her after she received a visit at her studio in Tunbridge Wells from Inspector Linham of the Kingston police. Sarah told him that she had known Beatrice when they were both studying art in St Petersburg as students. “It sounded as though Inspector Linham was pretty hard on her. Of course she already knew about Rabinsky being murdered and that the 18th Century paintings that she had copied had been sold recently at Christie’s, So most of what the Inspector asked her was no surprise. You see she had made those copies for Grant some years ago. He paid her a measly 6000 pounds for all three paintings. What she did was entirely legal. She even put her own signature mark on the back of the canvas where it would show up under one of those polarized light pens they use in shops to check for counterfeit bank notes. So the copies could be easily identified as her work.”

  “Well I’m sure Inspector Linham was only doing his job and it doesn’t sound as though your friend has anything to worry about. So why was she so upset?”

  “Look Ralph, I kn
ow you are a nice guy, but at times you seem a bit naïve. If those paintings that Richardson auctioned at Christie’s were the modern copies that Beatrice painted then she could be implicated in a possible art scam.”

  “But you just told me that Beatrice signed hers on the back, so surely she’s done nothing illegal.”

  “But what if Richardson was able to remove those markings? Then she could be implicated in helping to sell fake paintings. That’s why she phoned me, because Inspector Linham told her that Rabinsky had sent me the report on that damn memory stick that I gave to you. All I know is that I don’t want any further involvement in all of this. You need to do something about it.”

  Ralph was getting used to Sarah’s style of pushing the responsibility onto someone else. And so far he had managed to keep his temper under control.

  “Look here Sarah, I’m getting a bit fed up with you always assuming that I can solve your problems. I didn’t make you have an affair with Paul Scott and I didn’t encourage you to act as his accomplice in getting contracts from museums around the world. I’m happy to help you out as a colleague, but I think you need to start accepting responsibility for your own actions. Go to the police if you are really concerned, but I’m getting a tired of being your fall guy whenever it suits.”

  For once Sarah was silenced. When she spoke there was a tremulous note in her voice.

  “You’re right, Ralph. I do appreciate what you have done for me. Now they’ve arrested Paul, and obviously I can’t confide in my husband. I just need someone to talk to and I thought I could count on you. I may put on a good front, but I am only a woman when all is said and done.”

  Ralph could see the pit that was being dug for him to jump into.

  “Well look, Sarah, I’m really sorry that you are in this predicament, but I must go now. I’m sorry I can’t be more help, but I am sure that your friend Beatrice won’t be implicated if she has been straightforward with the authorities. After all, Grant Richardson told the police that he had commissioned her to make the modern copies. But I really must rush. I’m meeting Katie in town shortly and I have several things to take care of beforehand.” With that he hung up. His feelings were a mixture of relief that he had not taken the bait that was being offered, but old habits die hard and he felt that he had been a bit of a cad. He had lied about meeting Katie when what he was really doing was meeting with Inspector Linham to tell him about Anna and her brother.

  ***

  Later that afternoon Ralph was shown into Inspector Linham’s office and offered a cup of tea. He recognized that this was an unusually friendly gesture for someone visiting their local constabulary.

  “Good of you to see me Inspector; I know how busy you are.”

  “I know you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t feel that it was important,” Linham said as he sipped his tea and looked expectantly at Ralph.

  “I have some information that might be of interest in the Rabinsky affair,” Ralph said. “But I would appreciate it if you would treat it in confidence.”

  “Well I’m not sure that I can give carte blanche to confidentiality, but you know that we aim to treat anything you can tell us that might help our enquiries with as much sensitivity as possible. You mentioned on the phone that you had learned more about that report from Ivan Rabinsky that seemed to go astray and how someone tried to intercept it before it reached Professor Winton. I would, of course be grateful for anything you know that might aid our enquiries. But before you start perhaps it would help if I updated you on what we have discovered about the paintings following our meeting with Mr. Richardson.”

  The Inspector then explained what Grant Richardson had told him about how the mix-up of the 18thCentury and the modern copies had occurred.

  “You see Professor Chalmers, we have checked up on these stories and they are all corroborated by Mr. Paul Scott and Mr. John Weston. We have also spoken with Europol, and it looks as though Mr. Richardson was an innocent bystander in the case of those stolen icons. Of course that does not get us any further with Mr. Rabinsky’s murder, but Europol, Interpol and MI6 all think an organized crime gang is at the center of all of this. So while your theories about Mr. Richardson’s involvement were reasonable at the time, for the moment we are concentrating our attention on this organized crime gang in connection with the murder of Ivan Rabinsky.” Linham felt that he had covered all the ground he was at liberty to disclose to a civilian and was relieved that the attempted burglaries at Dorich House were now likely to stop. Getting the Chief Constable and the Assistant Commissioner of the Metropolitan police off his back was a great relief. Someone else could spend their time catching international criminals, he thought.

  Ralph took a few moments to comprehend what Linham had said.

  “Thank you Inspector, but I have one additional point to add.”

  “Please go ahead Professor.”

  Ralph told him about Anna Kravishili and her having identified Grant as the man that bribed her to intercept the package and paid her brother to make a series of attempted break-ins at Dorich House.

  “So you see Inspector, my question is why would Richardson go to such lengths to get hold of that report when he knew that it could all be explained as a simple mix-up? It’s my contention that he offered Rabinsky a bribe and when it was rejected he had to silence him or his reputation as an honest art dealer would be destroyed forever. He must have been quite desperate.”

  “You make a good case Professor, but so far all I have to go on is that some Serbian woman told you that a man she thinks was Mr. Richardson bribed her to commit what would be seen as petty larceny and incited some third party to pretend to break in to a museum where nothing was taken. Our Mr. Richardson would get some expensive barrister to handle his defense and make mincemeat of some alleged story from a pair of what I presume are illegal immigrants. And, as you say, the University would not press charges against the woman as the last thing they want is more bad publicity around their beloved museum. It would be a waste of police time and money. I’m sorry, but we would need more evidence, Professor. You see Mr. Richardson has every right to want to suppress information that would destroy not only his reputation but stand to lose him around 6 million dollars. But I think we would be stretching it to assume that he would go so far as to murder a man in cold blood just to save his reputation; and he is probably sufficiently well off to be able to lose 6 million without blinking an eye.”

  Ralph could see the logic in the Inspector’s argument. And if a case was brought against Anna then she and her brother were sure to lose and be deported for their troubles. It looked to him as though in this case it was best to let it go, at least for now.

  “I can see your point, Inspector. It does look as though the case against Richardson is pretty thin.”

  “Well not altogether, Professor. We still have a few loopholes that need to be cleared up so I will be having another chat with Mr. Richardson. He may want to own up to his attempts to get hold of that report and bribe our two Serbian friends. If he does, then that would clear up your concerns and perhaps even save your informants from possible deportation.”

  “I guess you heard about Mr. Sarovsky’s murder last night in Moscow,” Ralph said. He was the agent who bought Grant Richardson’s paintings at the Christie’s auction. You don’t suppose there is a connection between that and those paintings as well?”

  ***

  Ralph decided it was time to update Granger on his work in setting up benefactors and companies that wanted to collaborate with the University. For once he was looking forward to seeing his boss. Margaret ushered him into the Dean’s office.

  “Good to see you, Ralph,” said Granger as he stood up offering an outstretched hand. It took a few seconds for Ralph to overcome his surprise at such an effusive welcome.

  “Why don’t we have some tea while I bring you up to speed on things.” He called to Margaret who already had the tea prepared.

  “Since I last saw you things have improved. I am pl
eased to say that it is down to a short list of two for the post of Pro Vice Chancellor. The only competition I have is with Robert Martin, that chap who runs the Art and Architecture Faculty at Knights Park. Well he’s in a bit of a stew. Without naming names, one of his staff has got into a bit of trouble. It seems she was having an affair with some bloke who has now been arrested. Her husband is, to put it mildly, going berserk. Well the best of it is that her husband was funding two chairs in Robert Martin’s faculty and has decided to pull out the funding. Even better, it seems that this lady was moonlighting while on her so-called academic conferences. While she was supposedly representing the University at the conferences she was spending half the time drumming up business for her boyfriend. So it looks like what with your help and the monies that we are now promised I am in with more than a fighting chance.”

  Ralph couldn’t believe that fate could play such a trick. Although in this case it was definitely to Granger’s advantage.

  “Well I’m glad to hear that things are working out so well for you. And there is even better news on the money front than we had anticipated. The meetings in Paris went extremely well and we have at least three offers to sponsor Chairs in the Business School as well as offers of collaboration on research and interest from a major corporation to support development of new European based programmes with leading companies in France.”

  “That’s wonderful news, Ralph. I knew you were the right man for the job. Just let Margaret have the details and I will take it from there. And how’s that research project that you have with your Foundation, or whatever, going?”