Banker's Draft

by Clive Mullis

  ‘Er, yes,’ he stretched the word out as if contemplating his reply. ‘But I know you now.’

  Rose changed the pout to a smile. ‘My point exactly, you should give people a chance.’

  A knock came at the door, swinging open without invitation and Sparrow walked in. Behind him, followed three men in overalls, and Sparrow pointed out the pictures that they were to take before even saying good morning to Cornwallis. The three looked on speechless as the men got to work.

  ‘You caused quite a stir yesterday,’ said Sparrow by way of a greeting. ‘Very messy.’

  ‘Well, Sparrow,’ replied Cornwallis, leaning back in his chair and fixing him with a firm gaze. ‘Maxwell wasn’t trying to kill you, so I think that you can just bugger off. I don’t give a toss what you think. You and the Bagman had your chance, and you declined to take it.’

  ‘We were biding our time, Mr Cornwallis, letting things fall into place.’

  ‘Yes, and in the meantime one less investigator wouldn’t have mattered.’

  ‘I wouldn’t go quite so far as to say that, we do have your best interests at heart. Take your near miss yesterday, if it wasn’t for us you would be looking up at six feet of dirt.’

  ‘I could have dealt with him easily enough.’

  ‘Perhaps, but now we will never know. You know Maxwell could have unlocked a few closed doors for us.’

  ‘I know, Sparrow, that’s why I wanted to talk to him.’

  Sparrow smiled benevolently. ‘Bit too late for that now though, don’t you think? Perhaps next time you might listen to us a little more. Incidentally, we have already been down the Yard and removed all the files and the rags that were there. Oh, and the three men you took yesterday as well. If anything arises from our discussions with them we will of course inform you.’

  Cornwallis tried hard to keep his temper in check; he intended to go and speak to them some more later that day. ‘Take what you want, Sparrow, and then go. I’m getting a bit bored with your company.’

  Sparrow smiled some more. ‘Just hand over the handkerchief, and, oh yes, the pictures that MacGillicudy had done of Mr Weasel, plus the suit; I think then that we will be done. Incidentally, there is quite a crowd of women waiting downstairs, are they all for you?’

  Cornwallis swore to himself, the pictures of Freddie the Weasel had only arrived last night and he hadn’t had time to look at them properly. He got up, went over to the cupboard and pulled them out; there were only a few, and they were small, as they should be. He quickly flicked through them and decided that nothing there would give them a further clue. ‘Here, now go,’ he said, handing them over.

  Sparrow waited, and then Cornwallis handed over the rest of the stuff.

  ‘Thank you, Mr Cornwallis. We will meet again. Goodbye Miss Morant, Mr Kandalwick.’ He doffed his hat and walked out behind his men.

  ‘Bastard,’ muttered Frankie to his back.

  Rose thought hard. ‘Do you know, Jack, I think that they are going to let us do all the work, and then when we finally sort it out, they are going to jump in and take all the credit.’

  Cornwallis nodded. ‘Yep, that’s exactly what they intend to do. So it will be up to us to make sure that it doesn’t happen. Agreed?’

  Frankie and Rose nodded. The Bagman was going to find out that they were more than a match for him.

  ‘Let’s get this other business sorted out now,’ said Cornwallis, shaking off the effects of the visit. ‘Sparrow said that there were loads of women down there, so we had better start thinning them out.’

  They arranged the desk so that it was directly in front of the door, with three chairs placed behind it so that they could sit and watch each applicant as they came in. Rose placed a single upright chair in front for the victim. Cornwallis sat in the middle, flanked either side by his friends. He had given Frankie and Rose a wad of paper and a pencil each, and the three looked quite professional sitting there.

  ‘Right,’ said Cornwallis, satisfied at the layout. ‘Let’s get this show on the road. Who’s going to drag the first one in?’

  Frankie and Rose sat there and looked at each other. Neither of them moved, each reluctant to initiate the process while Cornwallis tapped his pencil impatiently on the desk. Finally, Rose sighed and got up; she sauntered over to the door and flung it open, calling down the stairs for the first person to come up before hurrying back to her seat to get ready for when they came through the door.

  ‘Good morning,’ said Cornwallis, as the girl came in, ‘and what is your name?’

  The girl shut the door and then walked forward slowly. ‘Gladys, sir, but I’m known as Peaches.’

  Cornwallis smiled as she came over. ‘Please sit down, Gladys, or Peaches, I should say.’

  She smiled, bit her lip, and pouted all at the same time. ‘Thank you, sir.’ Peaches sat down and arranged herself demurely with her hands on her lap.

  ‘And why, may I ask, have you applied for our vacancy?’

  ‘Well, sir.’ She held Cornwallis’ gaze and refused to let go. ‘Because I want to have a worthwhile career, sir.’

  Rose sniffed. ‘What experience do you have, Gladys?’ she asked pointedly.

  Peaches didn’t even turn to look at Rose; instead, she kept her eyes firmly on Cornwallis. ‘Oh I have plenty of experience, sir.’ She smiled, and then she squeezed her arms together; two little domes of flesh popped up, her nickname’s origins becoming quite obvious. ‘But in the service industry mainly, I’m a girl that does, sir, very willing I am, sir.’

  Frankie leant forward to get a better look and kicked Cornwallis hard under the table; he for one had got the message.

  Cornwallis shot Frankie a look and then returned his gaze to Peaches. ‘We work strange hours here, would that prove difficult for you?’ he asked, ignoring her obvious body language.

  ‘Oh no, sir, I’d be here at your beck and call, at any time you require, sir. I’d always be ready for anything you need, anything, sir.’ She flicked her eyes to Rose as if weighing up the opposition and then looked at Frankie, her eyes smouldering with the promise of things to come.

  Frankie clamped his jaw shut as it had been hanging open and he smiled back. ‘Does that include the occasional night shift?’ he enquired, in hope.

  Peaches licked her lips as if thinking. ‘Well, of course, sir. I would always do my best to be accommodating.’

  Cornwallis coughed politely. ‘Thank you for coming, er, Peaches; we will let you know.’

  ‘Thank you, sir, always ready to be of any assistance, sir, you understand, sir?’ She almost winked, but held it back, inclining her head slightly instead and handing over a piece of paper. ‘This is where I live, sir, if you wishes to discuss things further.’

  ‘Well.’ Rose exclaimed when she had gone. ‘The nerve of the girl.

  Frankie grinned. ‘I don’t know what you mean, Rose, I thought she was a good candidate.’

  ‘Yes, you would, Frankie. But not with regards to her office skills.’

  ‘Let’s get the next one in,’ said Cornwallis laughing. ‘I don’t think we need a Peaches here, we’d never get Frankie to do any work.’

  Frankie put on his indignant look. ‘Bloody cheek, I noticed you had a good look too.’

  ‘I may have cast my eyes in that general direction, Frankie,’ agreed Cornwallis. ‘But then I didn’t really have a choice, they sort of waved, if you know what I mean. Let’s see what the next one’s like.’

  Rose called down for the next one and this time two came through the door.

  ‘This is Mildred,’ said the older of the two as she sat down. ‘She’s come fer the job, she’s me daughter.’ Mildred chewed on gum and looked around the office like the stroppy skinny teenager she was. Her mother regarded Cornwallis keenly. ‘Good girl she is, too, yer know.’

  ‘I’m sure she is,’ replied Cornwallis, looking from one to the other. ‘Er… Mildred, what sort of work do you normally do?’

  ‘She works as a kitchen maid,’ r
eplied the mother. ‘Scrubbing the pans and the like.’ Mildred just stared and chewed, her boredom obvious.

  ‘Really?’ responded Cornwallis. ‘Well I never.’

  ‘Yeah, but I tells her to get her finger out an’ get a proper job. No future in being a scrubber, yer know.’

  Cornwallis smiled indulgently. ‘You’re so right. So Mildred…’ he began.

  ‘Oi, Mildred, listen to the man. He’s talking to you,’ interrupted the mother.

  Cornwallis tried to smile again, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. ‘Yes, well. Perhaps Mildred would like to tell us what she expects from this position.’

  ‘She expects to work is what she expects, don’t you, Mildred?’

  Mildred obviously didn’t care what anyone expected. She huffed, dug her hands deep into her pockets, and then tried to blow a bubble.

  ‘I expect Mildred might be more suited to another line of work,’ ventured Rose after a few moments silence.

  ‘Yeah, p’raps yer right,’ replied Mildred’s mother. ‘Come on, girl, yer no good fer nuffing.’ She clipped her daughter around the ear and then hurried her out of the office.

  ‘I felt a little sorry for that one,’ said Rose, when they’d gone. ‘What chance has the poor girl got with a harridan like that for a mother?’

  ‘None, I should think,’ replied Cornwallis with a sigh. ‘Gods, I’ve had enough of this already.’

  The next few applicants were just as unsuitable as the first two. Two couldn’t read, which could be thought an advantage, considering what some of their clients had got up to, but left them all at a loss as to how they had known there was a job on offer in the first place. Another one had a serious body odour problem, and yet another didn’t stop talking from the moment she entered the office until the moment she left, leaving all three quite breathless from the experience.

  Cornwallis wanted to stop the whole thing there and then, but Rose would have none of it, determined to find someone suitable. She reasoned that there must be at least one person waiting who could do the job, and it only required a little bit of patience to find them. Frankie tried again to get the first one back in the frame, quite rightly saying that she was the best of all that they had so far seen, but Cornwallis just shook his head slowly, adamant that they wouldn’t have a Peaches working there.

  Rose left her chair again and called down the stairs. Shortly a woman of indeterminate age walked in, dressed rather plainly but she had clear, smooth skin with dark hair twisted into a tight bun. She smiled at the three of them as she sat down, waiting for the questions to come.

  ‘And you are?’ began Rose with a smile.

  ‘Mrs Gridlington,’ said Mrs Gridlington.

  Cornwallis shuffled the pieces of paper in front of him. ‘Well, Mrs Gridlington. Could you tell us what experience you can bring to this office?’

  ‘Why certainly, Mr Cornwallis. At present, I am a housekeeper, but prior to that, I worked for Mr Flammery, the lawyer, until he passed away, may the Gods bless his soul. Before that, I worked with Mr Plugnill, the accountant, until he too passed away, may the Gods bless his soul also. I used to deal with all their correspondence and appointments; kept everything nice and tidy.’

  ‘Oh, really? I remember Mr Flammery, wasn’t there something a little strange about his passing?’

  ‘Er, yes, but I’m not one to gossip, Mr Cornwallis. Suffice to say that it was most unfortunate.’

  ‘You are so right; we need someone who understands confidentiality. Oh, yes, I remember now. Didn’t he expire as a result of, er…’

  ‘Confidentiality, Mr Cornwallis. I believe the lady involved wishes to remain anonymous.’

  Rose wrote on the bit of paper in front of her and passed it to Cornwallis. ‘You say you are at present a housekeeper,’ said Rose, regarding her again. ‘Why the change?’

  ‘I have always liked working in an office,’ replied Mrs Gridlington, ‘and I only went as a housekeeper on a temporary basis. My intention is to return to the profession as soon as something worthwhile comes up. The lady I work for now is well aware of that and encouraged me to apply this morning. I have a reference here from her if you would like to have a look.’ She then handed over a neatly folded piece of paper.

  Cornwallis read it and then passed it along to Rose. Frankie sighed as he could see where all this was going.

  Rose read the reply to her note too, saying Mr Flammery died happy wearing a nappy at a special club. She looked at Cornwallis and he winked at her.

  ‘Most impressive reference, Mrs Gridlington,’ observed Cornwallis, getting back to the job in hand. ‘There would be a lot of comings and goings here; and at odd times too. You would be pretty much left to deal with things as they happen on your own. Would that be a problem?’

  ‘Oh no, Mr Cornwallis, I’m sure I will quickly pick up how you like things done.’

  Cornwallis cast his eyes to Rose and Frankie and then wrote something down on the piece of paper in front. Rose leant across and put a tick next to it, Frankie reluctantly followed suit.

  ‘Well, Mrs Gridlington, if you still want the position, then I am pleased to be able to offer it to you.’

  Mrs Gridlington clapped her hands together and beamed. ‘Oh, thank you, Mr Cornwallis, I will be delighted to join you all.’

  ‘Well, that’s all done then. When are you able to start?’

  ‘Would tomorrow morning be all right for you?’

  ‘That would be splendid,’ replied Cornwallis. ‘We will all look forward to seeing you.’

  Mrs Gridlington stood up and nodded her thanks. ‘I’ll be here bright and early, Mr Cornwallis, and I’m so looking forward to it all.’

  She closed the door as she left and Cornwallis slumped down in his chair. ‘Thank the Gods for that. I thought we would never find someone. I dreaded any more dross coming through the door. Frankie, would you be so kind as to tell everyone else that the position has been filled and then thank them all for coming.’

  Frankie shot Cornwallis a forlorn look and then got up slowly. ‘I still reckon that we should have taken on Peaches, can’t we find a place for her too?’

  ‘No, Frankie, we can’t.’

  ‘Oh well, you have her address there, perhaps I might pop ‘round there to tell her she’s been unlucky.’

  Cornwallis sighed heavily, Frankie’s priority emanated from just below waist height, and he supposed he wasn’t going to change now. ‘Before you do any popping, we have to go to work; we’ve spent far too long here this morning as it is. You and Rose can go and check with Algernon, see what our friends have been up to, while I’ll go and see the King of the Dwarfs. When you’ve done that, you can go and see Gerald, he will probably want to know that Maxwell is dead.’

  ‘Aw, Jack; seeing Algie ain’t gonna be the same.’

  ‘Clear the women out of the place, Frankie,’ ordered Cornwallis with exasperation.

  CHAPTER 11

  Cornwallis felt that it was only polite to speak to the King of the Dwarfs, but he doubted whether he would be able to tell him anything he didn’t already know; but seeing as he had told Trugral that he would pay a visit, it seemed churlish not to do so now. Good relations were something to be cultivated; he never knew when it would come in handy. A contact was a contact, even if the contact lived deep underground.

  The nearest underground entrance was near the Guilds Hall, thankfully not far away. He knew the mines were extensive, so where in all those tunnels he would end up he just didn’t know. He had arranged to meet up with Rose and Frankie in a coffee shop later in the afternoon; he’d give the pub a miss for once in the hope of getting a good night’s sleep. He just hoped he’d got his timings right. He left the office and began the trek down the road whistling to himself for no other reason than it made him feel better. He had not been in a particularly good mood because of both his lack of success with Rose, and having to interview all those women; but with reflection, perhaps it might not be such a bad idea to take on some he
lp. He smiled to himself at Frankie’s infatuation with Peaches, he could see the attraction, but he dreaded to think what would have happened if he had taken her on.

  He crossed the street and then slipped down a side road, a little further on he dipped down another, leaving all the people behind him. He then thought he heard a little click, and then a sort of soft whoosh, and then a thump. He turned around to look, but couldn’t see anyone there. He stood still for a few moments and then shrugged his shoulders and carried on.

  *

  The small crossbow he carried had especially strengthened limbs, accurate, but to only about sixty feet. He pulled it out ready primed from the special reinforced pocket of his jacket, and then slid the bolt onto the string. It packed one hell of a punch at short range, but was a bugger to reload; he had to make this shot count. He peeked around the corner and levelled the bow to take aim; he licked his lips and took a deep breath just as his finger increased the pressure on the trigger. He centred his aim on Cornwallis’ back, a good target, and with the power of the crossbow, would turn his insides to mush.

  He concentrated hard, which though a good thing, could also be a bad thing because while he focused his aim at Cornwallis, he couldn’t see what was happening behind. Had he been able to see, he would have seen a seven inch long tempered-steel throwing-knife travelling towards him at about a hundred miles an hour, and about to come into serious contact with the back of his neck; but he didn’t know that, although shortly it was going to become very apparent.

  The knife hit home, the arm twitched, and the finger finished the pull. The crossbow fired. He had a brief instance of comprehension as the knife sliced through his flesh and bone and came to rest with the pointy bit just below his chin; life waved goodbye and oblivion said hello.

  Mr Magpie drew the blade from out of the body and peeked around the corner. He saw Cornwallis just as he turned back from looking and watched with a knowing grin as he continued on his way. The crossbow bolt had missed Cornwallis by a good few feet thanks to his intervention, now reverberating in a door post on the other side of the street. The assailant’s reverberations though, were well and truly over.