Penny Green series Box Set 2

by Emily Organ

  I took a much-needed breath and hoped Mr Chakravarty’s response would be amenable.

  “Most eloquently put, Miss Green,” he said with a nod. “I think that’s a fair assumption when it comes to Forster. And it’s clearly little more than coincidence that you happened to begin discussing him while you were here. I just get a little fretful when former clients of mine are mentioned.”

  I felt thankful that Mr Chakravarty was momentarily appeased, but was keen to get myself and George out of his office as quickly as possible.

  “It’s a shame about your lost money, though,” said George. “Is there any chance you’ll ever see it again?”

  “I’m taking it up with Mr Forster’s estate,” replied the banker. “I always get my money back; I make damned sure of it.”

  Chapter 30

  “I don’t think I’ve perspired so much in my entire life!” exclaimed George as we walked along Change Alley toward Cornhill and the Royal Exchange. “That was incredibly stressful, Penelope. Awful! Everything was going swimmingly until I mentioned Forster, but the chap took umbrage at that, didn’t he?”

  “Yes, it was rather an interesting reaction,” I said. “As if he were guilty of something.”

  “Oh no, he couldn’t have done it, could he? He’s a professional gentleman.”

  “Professional gentlemen can be murderers too, George.”

  “Well, don’t ever ask me to do anything like that again. It wore my nerves down completely.”

  “I didn’t ask you, Eliza did.”

  “But it was your idea.”

  “No, it wasn’t. It was Eliza’s.”

  “I see. I shall blame her, then.”

  “Please do.”

  “I fail to understand what the aim of our meeting with him was,” said George.

  “As James stated, all we needed to do was gauge Chakravarty’s reaction.”

  “He was quite defensive, I thought.”

  “There you go, so that tells us something.”

  “Such as what?”

  “As I’ve already suggested, George, it implies that he’s hiding something.”

  “You do realise I’ll be bumping into him at the Colthurst Club now? It’s all going to be terribly awkward, especially when you don’t go ahead with the mortgage. How do I explain that to him?”

  “Tell him I’m a flighty woman prone to whimsies and that my mind changes with the weather. Rather typical of my sex, no doubt.”

  “I’ll use that.”

  James was waiting for us outside the Royal Exchange, so George and I told him how the meeting with Mr Chakravarty had turned out.

  “Thank you, Mr Billington-Grieg, for involving yourself in what must seem to you a rather odd setup,” said James.

  “It does seem rather odd, and I can’t say that I enjoyed the experience. I shall take my leave of you both now. I need to get to my office in Austin Friars and work on a government contract with one of my clients. I can only hope that I will be recovered in time for dinner tonight.”

  “Of course, George,” I said. “Will you be dining anywhere nice?”

  “The Burlington Hotel. In fact, I wonder if Chakravarty will also be attending. It’s a dinner for gentlemen with interests in India.”

  My heart skipped a beat. “With Mr Lewis Sheridan?” I asked.

  “Why, yes. How on earth did you know that, Penelope?”

  “Because I need an invitation to that very dinner myself!”

  George laughed. “Only chaps allowed, I’m afraid.”

  “Mr Sheridan is the merchant Mr Forster used to work for,” I said.

  “Is he indeed?” asked George.

  “Yes!”

  “Well, he’s the chap who gifted me those Chinese vases your sister adores so much.”

  “You know him well, then?” I asked.

  “Only through the business we’ve conducted with him at the law firm.”

  “Then you must tell me and Inspector Blakely all about him!”

  “Not now, Penelope, I have work to do. And besides, I don’t know a great deal about the fellow.”

  “Oh, how I wish I could be a fly on the wall at tonight’s dinner,” I said. “Do you think you could —?”

  “Ask Sheridan about Forster and gauge his reaction?” replied George. “No, I’m not falling into that trap again, Penelope. Once in a lifetime is more than enough for me.”

  “Oh, George, please!”

  “Absolutely not. I have no skill in such matters. I’ll leave the prying to you and Inspector Blakely here. I shall be attending this dinner with the full intention of enjoying myself and hopefully acquiring a little business along the way. You’ll have to find another opportunity to speak to Mr Sheridan.” He doffed his hat and strode away, swinging his cane.

  “I shall never understand why my sister married that man,” I said to James as we watched George’s retreating form.

  “In his defence, I suppose we have asked quite a lot of him,” he replied. “Not everyone feels comfortable asking awkward questions.”

  “I’d say few people are.”

  “Exactly, though for some reason people like you and I enjoy doing so,” he said with a smile. “Don’t be too hard on your brother-in-law.”

  “It’s not just about today; I don’t like him much anyway. I’ve told Eliza before now that I think his views are old-fashioned and bigoted.”

  “Let’s forget about him for the time being,” said James. “What we’ve learnt this morning is that Mr Chakravarty is rather sensitive to questions about Mr Forster. And he chose not to give much away.”

  “He doesn’t seem to be the sort of man to give much away.”

  “But thanks to your work this morning I’ll make a note that he’s someone to bear in mind. It’s possible he decided that he would only get his money back from Forster once the man was dead.”

  “I should think him capable of it, too,” I replied. “I cannot muster any fondness for the man.”

  James laughed.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “It takes rather a lot to impress you, doesn’t it?”

  “Not really. Just being an honest, likeable person is enough.” I looked down at my lavish dress. “It’s time for me to go home and change out of this now.”

  “Don’t you want to make the most of your fine dress?” asked James. “We could find a restaurant nearby.”

  “Much as I’d like to, James, we can’t. We discussed this only a matter of days ago. Charlotte wouldn’t allow it.”

  “She needn’t find out,” he replied quietly. “And besides, there’s something I need to tell you that I certainly won’t be telling her about.”

  Chapter 31

  James and I sat at a table in the corner of Leman’s Dinner Rooms, which had an elegant corniced ceiling and white tablecloths. He kept looking about him, as if worried we might be seen.

  I put on my spectacles so that I could also keep a lookout for anybody who might disapprove of us being seen together. I found myself enjoying the illicit nature of our lunch. It seemed that the closer James’ wedding drew the more clandestine our meetings had to become.

  The waiter took our order and we were soon dining on potato and leek soup.

  “So what is it you needed to tell me?” I asked James. “And why can’t you tell Charlotte?”

  “She has a delicate disposition.”

  “Poor Charlotte.”

  “And she would probably request that I cease my detective work immediately.”

  “Would she? What would she rather have you do?”

  “She says accountancy is a safer profession.”

  “She’s not wrong.”

  “There are some days when I think that perhaps I should have chosen that path.”

  “Oh no, James, don’t say that. Police work is in your blood, just like your father and grandfather before you.”

  “You’re right, Penny.”

  “So what is it?”

  “Ah, yes. I realise
now that telling you while we eat may not be the best idea after all.”

  “But I need to know now! You can’t leave me waiting until we’ve finished eating to find out, the suspense is too great!”

  “I don’t think you’ll feel like that once you hear what I have to say.”

  “And that comment simply adds to the suspense! What’s happened?”

  “I received a letter in the post.”

  “An unpleasant anonymous one?”

  “You’ve guessed correctly, Penny,” he replied with a grin.

  “We have experience of those, don’t we? They’re usually an indication that we’re on the right track with an investigation.”

  “You’re right, they’re a very good indicator of that. And they provide a useful opportunity to identify the sender.”

  “Unless it’s a hoax letter.”

  “There is that to consider, though this letter is certainly not a hoax.”

  “How can you be sure?” I asked.

  ‘Because of one defining factor, which I’ll get to shortly.”

  “So what did it say?”

  “It told me in no uncertain terms to stop investigating the deaths of Mr and Mrs Forster.”

  “Was there a threat explaining what would happen if you didn’t?”

  “Not explicitly, no.”

  “From your description so far it sounds like a fairly innocuous letter, but it seems to be bothering you greatly. Why is that?”

  “Are you sure you wish to hear it while you’re enjoying your soup?”

  “James, my dinner will feel completely ruined if you don’t explain to me right away what was so terrible about the letter.”

  “Something unpleasant was enclosed in the envelope.”

  I sat poised with my spoon hovering above my soup.

  “What exactly?”

  “A severed human finger.”

  My spoon fell into my soup, sending splashes all over my sister’s beautiful dress.

  “A finger?”

  James nodded.

  I picked up my serviette and wiped at the bodice. “Whose finger?” I said.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Male? Female?”

  “Definitely male.”

  “And which one?”

  “The little finger. I’ve had a police surgeon analyse it.”

  “Could he tell you anything more about it?”

  “He said that it comes from an adult male who is engaged in laborious work and is likely to be between the ages of twenty and thirty.”

  “But who? And what has happened to him?” I shuddered. “If he’s still alive he’s missing at least one finger. They may have cut off more, or they might have killed the chap. Oh, it doesn’t bear thinking about! Did the message say the perpetrator would do the same thing to you?”

  “I suspect that was the implication.”

  A sense of dread turned my stomach. I looked down at my soup and realised I had completely lost my appetite.

  “These people need to be caught, James. They’re extremely dangerous, and they could be anywhere! They could be watching you right now!”

  “That is not a comforting thought,” said James, glancing around again.

  “The Forsters’ servants aren’t safe,” I said, “especially the boy. Anyone who witnessed the attacks on the Forsters must surely be at risk. Can you protect them?”

  “Inspector Bowles has housed the boy somewhere. I’ll ask him where he’s up to with the other servants.”

  “These people seem well organised and ruthless,” I said. “It’s frightening. And to think they would send a severed finger to Scotland Yard! That just goes to show how little respect they have for authority.”

  “Lack of respect for authority is the least of our worries, Penny.”

  “What is Chief Inspector Cullen doing about it?”

  “He’s concerned, as is the commissioner. I’ve told them we need more men on the Forster case.”

  “It may also have something to do with Alfred Holland.”

  “It’s possible.”

  “Oh, James!” I shivered. “Aren’t you tempted to disappear somewhere and get away from all this?”

  “On a personal level I am, but it’s my duty to stay here and see this through. Please don’t worry about me, Penny. I’m having second thoughts as to whether I should have told you about this.”

  “Of course you should!”

  “Then please don’t make me regret it by worrying about me. I’ll be fine.”

  Chapter 32

  Once home I changed out of Eliza’s fancy frock and into my usual skirt and blouse. Then I stepped out in the early evening and took the underground railway from Moorgate to Charing Cross. While I had no hope of attending the dinner at the Burlington Hotel, there was another method I could employ in order to speak to Mr Sheridan. I could approach him as a news reporter.

  It was a twenty-minute walk from Charing Cross to the hotel on Cork Street. I stood by the railings, close to the columned entrance, and waited for the dinner attendees to arrive. I had no idea what Mr Sheridan looked like, so I could only hope that my brother-in-law would arrive swiftly and give me a description of the man.

  A four-wheeled brougham carriage drew up and the hotel footman helped a frail, white-haired gentleman step out.

  “Mr Sheridan?” I said hopefully.

  “What?”

  “Are you Mr Sheridan, sir?”

  “A who?”

  The footman shouted my question into the old man’s ear and the elderly gentlemen shook his head in reply.

  “No, no. Not me.”

  I watched the footman help him into the hotel and continued the wait.

  An expensive landau carriage arrived and a large man with a profusion of grey whiskers stepped out, but he wasn’t Mr Sheridan either and didn’t seem to like me asking the question.

  “No, thank you! Not interested!” he barked.

  The third carriage was an elegant, well-polished barouche with an open top. This time I recognised the occupant: a short, round man sitting comfortably at the centre of the large seat. He wore a top hat and spectacles with a high collar, black bow tie and black dinner suit. I felt sure he was the man I had seen with Mr Forster in Margaret Street the morning after Mrs Forster’s murder.

  “Mr Sheridan?” I ventured as he made a sprightly leap out of his carriage.

  “Why, yes. What can I do for you?” He smiled.

  I introduced myself. “I’ve been reporting on the story of Mr and Mrs Forster’s death, and I recall seeing you with Mr Forster outside his home after the terrible events that occurred there.”

  “Yes, I was there to support Augustus. Simply dreadful, it was, and then Augustus himself just a few days later!”

  I was pleasantly surprised to find him amenable and talkative.

  “Why should anyone wish to do such a thing?”

  “I have no idea. Mr and Mrs Forster were good friends, and this is the first evening I have been out since their deaths. In fact, I wasn’t planning to come at all, but this is a long-standing appointment and I didn’t wish to let Sir Archibald Duffield down as it took him a long time to get all these chaps together. And this event is quite timely as my company is currently brokering a contract with the India Office and there are some influential men here this evening who can smooth the waters where that’s concerned. I start to become nervous at this stage of negotiation. Just when you think you have everything in order something comes along to upset proceedings. That’s happened to me many times before, and I’ve learnt not to raise my hopes too quickly about such matters. This contract is one of the most important I’ve ever negotiated, and for Forster’s murder to have taken place at a time like this…” He trailed off for a moment. “Well, it’s really one of the worst things that could have happened. It’s hard to keep your mind focused on business when it’s distracted by grief.”

  “I can only imagine. What is the contract for?”

  “Ah, I’m afra
id that must remain top secret for now, Miss Green! I shall be making a public announcement as soon as the ink is dry, but for the time being I’ll be fretting about it. Still, this evening should be quite pleasant. I’m determined to enjoy it even though it’s been such a difficult week.”

  “There is some speculation that Mr Forster’s financial difficulties may have had something to do with his death,” I said.

  “I couldn’t possibly say. I never involve myself in the affairs of another man, and his money woes are no business of mine unless he were to make a point of discussing them with me. In the case of Mr Forster I had no inkling that his finances were in such a dire state. I knew that his company in Calcutta was struggling with its profits, but I had no idea that he was attempting to shore things up in such a questionable manner. The chap was a friend of mine and I would have happily assisted him had he asked me to. But as no request was forthcoming I assumed he was handling the matter himself, which of course he was, though not particularly efficiently.”

  “So you believe that this inefficient handling of his affairs may be the reason someone wished him harm?”

  “Who can say?” He shrugged. “It’s a possibility, Miss Green, but not a certainty. We shall have to leave all that to the detectives.”

  “Have they approached you yet?”

  “Not yet. If I can be of any assistance I should be more than happy to speak to them, although I’m not sure I have much to add. Mr Forster stopped working for my company last summer.”

  “Why did he leave?”

  “He wished to return to England, realising by that point, I think, that his own attempts to run a merchant company had failed. He’d tried and tried, but it wasn’t to be.”

  “Was he happy to be returning to England?”

  “Yes, I think so, but disappointed about his company. He was looking forward to living in his father’s home.”

  “Which he wrongly believed he owned himself.”

  “Did he? Well, I wouldn’t know anything about that. It was an extremely pleasant home in a delightful part of London, and then some murdering gang came along that evening and…” He paused. “Everything changed.”