The Barker's Dozen - Reminiscences of an Early Police Dog (28 page)

‘He gave me addresses for his old domestic staff. Having decided to leave the villa, he no longer needed their services and he admits that he finds the constant reminders of his old life almost intolerable. They were dismissed yesterday with generous settlements and glowing characters.

‘I went to see the two domestics but they could provide me with no extra information.’

‘Thank you, Charles,’ my master said with a smile before turning to Harris. ‘How did you find Madame La Fleur?’

‘I proceeded, as instructed,’ Harris began, still a sergeant in his mannerisms, ‘and found the Lady at Corry’s Hotel where she has reserved a room.

‘She greeted me politely but was not able to provide me with any real information about her sister’s childhood friends. This was due in part to her natural forgetfulness coupled with her strong French accent that made her speech hard to follow. The information she gave me, however, confirmed in part the statements made by Mr Beresford earlier in the investigation.

‘She intends to stay at Corry’s Hotel for at least another fortnight before returning to the Rue Saint Jean in Paris. I know we had to interview her but I do not think that she will play any real further part in this case.’

‘I disagree, John,’ my master said softly, his first use of Harris’ Christian name was rather shocking. ‘After this meeting I want you to arrest her. Perjury would be the appropriate charge.’

There was a deep silence as Graves and Harris stared at my master who nonchalantly filled his pipe. As I have observed before your uncle is sometimes terribly melodramatic. When he starts overacting I am always tempted to bite him.

‘I gather, Richard, that you know something we don’t’, Inspector Graves said after allowing my master a few moments of triumph. ‘Are you going to share this intelligence or do we have to guess?’

‘It is really quite simple,’ your uncle began with a self-deprecating modesty.’ I formed the conclusion that Madame La Fleur was actually Mrs Beresford. Having come to this decision I decided to test my hypothesis.

‘I cabled our colleague, Patrice Menet, in Paris and asked him to confirm Madame La Fleur’s statements. I received his reply last night.’

My master paused and took the reply from the papers on his desk. After a glance at his audience, he began to read.

‘“My dear Inspector Thompson, your cable was welcome as it gave me an excuse to take a break from the interrogation of one of the worst criminals I have ever had in our little grey cells. A chance to take the Parisian air was welcome. There has been no wine merchant named Hercule La Fleur. There is no woman of the name or description you provided living in Rue Saint Jean.  A check with my colleagues revealed that an English woman named Beresford stayed at a small hotel, Le Dauphin, in Calais for several days after the date you gave.”

‘As you can see this confirms that Madam La Fleur is not who she claims to be and I am sure that we will soon be able to prove that she is, indeed, the Mrs Beresford who having vanished in London turned up in Calais.’

‘What put you on to her?’ Inspector Graves asked.

My master picked up folded piece of paper that proved to be a front page of
The Times
, dominated by a court sketch of Madame La Fleur giving evidence.

‘Do you see her right hand?’ my master said pointing at the sketch. ‘You can see that the artist has clearly shown all of the fingers, except the right hand little finger, clutching the rail. The exception is shown only half curled. Mrs Morris told me that Mr Beresford had caused an injury like that to his wife.

‘It was not at all conclusive because it is possible, although unlikely, that twins might suffer identical injuries. Taken with the fact that no shoes were found in the bathroom I decided to ask Monsieur Menet to check that Madame La Fleur actually lived in Paris.

‘It occurred to me that having worked out a complex little plot to fraudulently claim the policy the Beresfords would be unable to live together in London without taking a risk that a neighbour would recognise Mrs Beresford. The same danger was present with the servants so I reasoned that Mr Beresford would quietly dismiss them.’

‘I don’t understand why Beresford went through with the trial,’ Harris mused. ‘He could have given us his alibi at the start of the case and saved himself some privations.’

‘The underwriters were likely to withhold payment for seven years as there was no body,’ my master replied. ‘Once we had him tried for the murder the state was, in effect, confirming that she was dead. A few letters to the press and they were demanding that the insurance company pay up quickly out of natural justice.’

Soon after Harris left to arrest Mrs Beresford while Graves went to collect her husband.

The resulting trial was a complete sensation and our fraudulent pair were given satisfyingly long terms of penal servitude.

-----

‘As, I said James,’ Snuffles said with a very deep sigh. ‘The middle classes are just as dishonest as everyone else. They just have better opportunities than the very poor.’

‘Why did my uncle let Harris make one of the arrests?’ I asked, ‘I would not have thought that he deserved any of the credit.’

‘As soon as Beresford was acquitted, the odious Johnstone used him as a scapegoat,’ Snuffles growled softly. ‘My master decided that he had been badly and unfairly mauled by the press and deserved a proper chance.’

‘It is a great pity that nothing happened to Johnstone, ‘I exclaimed angrily.

‘As it happens we passed that pompous man on a staircase at the Home Office a few weeks later, and for some unaccountable reason he tripped over me and took a nasty fall.’ Snuffles wagged his tail slightly with remembered pleasure, ‘his right wrist, left leg and several ribs were broken during his tumble if memory serves.’

An extract from the journal of Miss Isobel Fraser, written for her sister, Lucy, in Boston.

Tuesday

You will recall that I told you of my dashing rescuer Lieutenant Reginald Vaughn. Tonight I had the pleasure of renewing my acquaintance at a soirée of Mrs Drewcott’s. It was somewhat awkward when I met him but Lady Heddon soon smoothed that out by introducing us properly.

Lieutenant Vaughn is, I discover, the son of one of the landed gentry, a real aristocrat.  They do say that good breeding will always show. I hope you will excuse me if you think I am referring to him like a prize bull, but in the case of the Honourable Reginald, this is patently true.

His manners are just that bit more polished and his education that much rounder than the other young men I have met in this country. Please do not think that I was acting in a forward manner but I managed to monopolise him for a large part of the evening.

I know it is too early to be thinking along these lines, but do you think Ma would approve of a titled suitor?

I am very tired and will write more tomorrow. Sleep well, dear Lucy.

Wednesday

I was taking morning coffee with Aunt Emily when the butler brought in a card. I expected that the visitor would be one of her many very dull but terribly worthy friends so I applied myself to my embroidery.

You can imagine my pleasure when Aunt Emily told me that the Honourable Reginald Vaughn had sent up his card and asked if we should receive him. From the smile on her face, I do not believe that she was deceived by my initial show of indifference.

His card was the herald of a wonderful hour. Lieutenant Vaughn proved to be witty, intelligent and very charming. I was pleased to see that Aunt Emily seemed to approve of him.

Before he left he asked, first Aunt Emily and then me, if we had any objections to his calling again. I could hardly answer as the realisation that this Adonis seemed to reciprocate my interest left me quite breathless.

Friday

As the weather is exceptionally fine, I was sitting in the garden talking with Aunt Emily and one of her friends. This friend was very concerned that I protect my skin from the ‘ravaging effects of sunlight’ and kept fussing about the shade from my parasol. I was starting to get slightly cross when Reginald called again. I was very glad to see him, not only because of the pleasure of his company but also because he distracted the visitor.

After a while, Aunt Emily suggested that we take a turn round the garden and I agreed with alacrity. As we walked gently round the lawn a few times, Reginald told me several funny anecdotes about his family while I told him about our home in Boston.  I was so tied up in his conversation that the first I realised that he had cleverly manoeuvred me into a secluded corner of the garden was when he wrapped his arms round me and planted a kiss on my startled lips.

I was shocked. It was outrageous. It was also very enjoyable and after a moment, I forgot to struggle. I do hope you will not think less of me for not protesting, but at the time, it seemed the most natural thing in the world. I trust that you will not share this confession with Ma, as it would only upset her.

With equal suddenness, he unhanded me and blushing with shame stammered an apology. His contrition was sincere. When he offered to leave my presence immediately and never again darken our door, I took the precaution of grasping his hand so he could not run. Taking himself in hand he apologised again telling me that his ‘behaviour was unforgivable and not worthy of a gentleman, let alone an officer. He could only offer the excuse that he had fallen in love with me and there were times when true love refuses to be shackled by mere conventions.’

You cannot believe the feelings in my heart at these words and I accepted his apology with warm understanding.

Saturday

I went to see Aunt Mary and during our conversation told her that Reginald had started paying court to me. I had expected her to be pleased for me and had, I admit, been looking forward to talking about my paladin. The truth could not have been further from my pleasant fantasy.

Aunt Mary told me to disassociate myself from ‘the Vaughn boy’ immediately while I still had my happiness and reputation intact. I asked her hotly what she meant by her remarks and was outraged when she told me that my noble beau was ‘a womanising blackguard. A wolf who dishonours his uniform with every breath he draws.’

I know it was unforgivable, especially considering the friendship she has shown me, but I told Aunt Mary that, ‘I did not think a dried up old spinster was the right person to advise me on marriage’ and then ‘obliged her to keep her opinions to herself.’

I saw the look of pain and anger on her face and tried to apologise but it was too late and I found myself talking to her back as she swept from the room.  

I turned to stare out of the windows, resolving to stay in the room for a few minutes in case Aunt Mary decided to return and accept my apology. Someone behind me told me that I was ‘an ungrateful little rat.’ I spun round, offended, but there was nobody else in the room. I could hear one of Aunt Mary’s servants walking along the corridor and realised that my behaviour must have been outrageous enough to cause one of her normally very proper domestics to forget themselves.

A small movement caught my eye and I noticed my aunt’s young ginger tom, Cathkin, looking at me over a bowl of roses. I called him, wanting the comfort of his soft fur, only for him to jump from the table and stalk disdainfully from the room. I was obviously not fit company for man or beast.

I told Aunt Emily about our argument and she has promised to take a letter of apology from me and give it to Aunt Mary. I seem once more to have offended someone I care for by speaking out of turn. I hope that I will soon be forgiven but I doubt it.

Monday

Reginald called yesterday afternoon and we again walked in the garden, though with far more decorum. I told him of my contretemps with Aunt Mary and of my relationship with the Thompsons. After a few minutes of thought, he suggested that Aunt Mary might be trying to engineer a match for me with my crippled cousin James. It was a reasonable explanation of her comments about Reginald. She would obviously want to turn me against any other eligible suitor. He also advised me that I should not let the views of one acid old lady influence me unduly.

Although my paladin is too much of a gentleman to suggest it directly, I got the idea that the Thompsons are not one of the landed families but only came into their wealth during the last century when James’ Great Grandfather used his naval career to amass great riches. I found myself shivering with horror as Reginald told me that there were plenty of rumours of piracy and worse.

After Reginald had left I found myself comparing his witty sophistication with James Thompson’s boorish drunkenness. True breeding will show.

I was sitting at my desk staring at a report on the state of the Solent sea forts that I was supposed to be writing. Whenever I picked up my pen to add to the document I found my mind wandering onto the subject of Isobel and the unhappy news that my Great Aunt Mary had told me the day before.

I had called round to take tea with the old lady as I try to do at least once a week when I am in town. Visits that started as a duty have grown into a pleasure as I have come to appreciate her dry and sardonic conversation.

I expected her to be in good spirits but found her uncharacteristically morose. Once I had been served with tea she lost no time in telling me of Isobel’s growing involvement with Lieutenant Vaughn. I was horrified, as the man had been forcibly asked to leave one of his clubs to avoid a scandal involving a game of whist.

Aunt Mary then told me of Isobel’s visit and their argument. Initially the old lady was going to leave my American cousin to suffer the consequences of her idiocy, but had relented. She had written to Lady Emily to see if she might help persuade the headstrong young woman of her folly.

There had been another family argument as Lady Emily approved of the match and declared that she had included Lieutenant Vaughn in her party for the forthcoming weekend at Arlesford.

The upshot of our tea-time conversation was that Aunt Mary had decided that I was the only member of the family who could rescue Isobel from the blackguard’s clutches. I was going to have to be clever because I did not think that Isobel would listen to any rumours and would have to see Vaughn as a thrice-damned villain with her own eyes.

It was while I was busily engaged in not solving this problem or writing my report that I heard the front door bell ring and grateful for any interruption that would legitimately allow me to ignore my impasse I listened as my man went to open the door. On hearing my uncle’s voice I put aside my futile labour and went to greet him.

‘Ah James,’ the great man said, on seeing me. ‘I have been called abroad for a few days. Will you look after Snuffles until I return?’

‘With pleasure,’ I replied. ‘He is always good company.’

My uncle whistled and Snuffles jumped from a cab that was waiting by the kerb and ran up the stairs towards me wagging his tail.

‘Do you have time for a cup of tea?’ I asked, hoping that he might advise me on Aunt Mary’s problem

‘No James, not now. As it is I have just sufficient time to make the boat train.’

With that he pulled Snuffles’ ears and then strode purposefully down the steps to the waiting cab. I went back to my study, confident in the knowledge that my companion would follow me.

‘Where is he going?’ I asked as soon as I was sure that my man had returned to his quarters.

‘You know I won’t discuss a current case,’ Snuffles said, slightly officiously. ‘All I can say is that my master is travelling to
Brussels to arrest someone implicated during the Balfour trial.’

‘A swindler,’ I remarked recalling the April trial.

‘Indeed a swindler and one of the nastiest.’ Snuffles looked at me in a speculative manner, ‘you offered my master tea and since I would enjoy some cake does your generous offer extend to me?’

‘Indeed it does my mercenary hound,’ I replied with some laughter. ‘Afterwards you can tell me another of my uncle’s cases.’

‘And who exactly did you say was mercenary?’ My friend growled as I worked the bell pull.

Once tea had been served and Snuffles had finished a large slice of a particularly fine fruit cake he settled himself comfortably and began.

-----

The thirtieth of November, three years ago, was a grey and miserable day. Rather appropriate when I tell you that was the day when we became involved in a case that nearly cost me my life and could very easily have killed your uncle. The thing is that it wasn’t our case at all and we became involved only because the investigating officer, Inspector Bowman, had unexpectedly left the service.

‘Richard,’ the Assistant Commissioner announced as he entered my master’s office. ‘Can you spare some time to deal with a potential problem in another of Bowman’s cases?’

‘Of course,’ my master replied. ‘What sort of a problem?’

‘I have been passed a letter from a Mr MacDonald, who claims that he can show that the man we arrested for the Reventhorpe murder was the one person with a material reason for keeping the old man alive.’

‘That sounds unfortunate,’ your uncle replied with a rueful smile. ‘I am afraid that you have the advantage on me; however, as I don’t know the details of the case.’

‘I thought that might be so,’ our visitor placed a file on my master’s desk. ‘I took the precaution of bringing Inspector Bowman’s report and the letter with me. Once you have read up on the case I would appreciate it if you could see this Mr MacDonald.’

An hour later your uncle called Sergeant Allen into his office and asked him to sit.

‘Sergeant,’ my master began. ‘We have been asked to interview a certain Mr MacDonald who was the solicitor of the late Lord Reventhorpe. This gentleman wrote a very interesting letter to the Commissioner that, if true, puts serious doubt on the guilt of the man arrested by Inspector Bowman for the murder.

‘I have the feeling that the letter is genuine and that we will be reinvestigating the case. I will of course be requiring your assistance and thought that it would be prudent if I first summarised Bowman’s report.’

‘Very good, Sir,’ Sergeant Allen said settling back in his chair. ‘I remember reading about the case in the paper but I have no doubt that the report was as fanciful as it was colourful.’

‘The death occurred at Hevershap Hall near
Lower Monksford. At nine thirty on the evening of the fifteenth of November, Lord Reventhorpe was heard to cry out and his daughter, Lady Caroline Barke, hearing the noise ran into the library where she found her father convulsing on the floor, having apparently fallen from his chair. Before she could summon help the poor man expired and his doctor, who arrived within the hour, took one look at the body and declared that it was a case of poisoning.

‘The body was examined and the cause of death was positively established as cyanide poisoning, the poison having been administered by ingestion. The deceased had shared an evening meal with his immediate family several hours before and had then retired to the library to play chess with his son.

‘The son, the Honourable Sebastian Lloyd-Carney left the house about fifteen minutes before his father’s death to catch the train up to Town. He was not overtaken by the boy sent to tell him of the tragedy although the servant reached the station before the London train left.

‘Further investigation showed that he caught a later train having spent some time in the Red Lion Inn in the village. People remember his visit because he seemed to be happy and when asked why said that he was “celebrating the end of a difficulty.”

‘Inspector Bowman reports that the deceased had shared some nuts and port with his son while playing chess. His butler says that once the Honourable Sebastian had gone Lord Reventhorpe asked him to bring a brandy and water. When the butler returned with the drink the old man was eating a piece of Turkish delight, a sweetmeat he alone of his family enjoyed. The butler remarked on the box, because it was one of the really impressive ones from Fortnum’s and was told that the son had given it to his lordship during the evening and that it was of his lordship’s favourite almond flavour. It is interesting to note that this box was knocked to the floor when the old man fell from his chair.

‘It seemed likely to Inspector Bowman that the Honourable Sebastian had deliberately poisoned his father as he had had the means: a box of sweetmeats in a flavour that would disguise the smell of the cyanide. The opportunity: the family confirmed that Lord Reventhorpe would have eaten the whole box within a day or two and that no one else would have eaten any. All that remained was to discover a motive.

‘Inspector Bowman carefully interviewed Lady Barke and her husband, Sir William, and discovered that Sebastian had such a motive. He wanted revenge. I will not detail the individual statements but rather I will read Inspector Bowman’s summary as it contains all the relevant information.

‘Several years ago Lord Reventhorpe suffered from a seizure that left him slightly paralysed and his doctor warned him that unless he slowed down he risked another and probably fatal attack. The Honourable Sebastian stepped in and took over the day to day running of the family’s business interests although his father retained control over the major decisions.

‘The family’s business interests include links with trading houses in the Far East and runs what is in effect a private bank that provides funding for other companies. The business does not own any vessels of their own, although in times past ships formed the basis of their fortunes, as Lord Reventhorpe considered it to be more efficient for them to hire cargo capacity on other vessels.

‘The Honourable Sebastian was responsible for instructing their own factors, or sometimes independent brokers, to buy and sell suitable cargoes as well as negotiating transport with various shipping agents.

‘In August the Honourable Sebastian came to his father with an accusation that their shipping agent was somehow defrauding the family. Lord Reventhorpe was extremely concerned and asked his son-in-law for his opinion. Sir William told him that the accusations must be false, as the proprietor of the shipping agency was a personal friend. He would, however, investigate.

‘He returned and said that the apparent losses were easily explained away by natural wastage and storm damage. He reported, with great reluctance, that there was a rumour that the Honourable Sebastian wanted to give the shipping business to another agency in return for an incentive. Gambling debts were alluded to and there was a family argument. The outcome was that the Honourable Sebastian was told that he must always use the existing agency.

‘Things came to a head in late October, when Lady Barke reported to her father that her husband had received a telegram with some distressing news. Sir William then proceeded to tell Lord Reventhorpe that the Honourable Sebastian had gone against his express wishes and had personally intervened at East India Docks to stop a cargo being loaded on a ship selected by the approved agent. To compound the problem he handed the cargo over to the other shipping agent.

‘Lord Reventhorpe took what he saw as his son’s treacherous behaviour badly and became very angry. This resulted in his having a small seizure and he retired to his room but not before he told his daughter to summon his solicitor, Mr MacDonald, of whom we will hear more later.

‘The solicitor arrived the following morning and Lord Reventhorpe changed his will in his daughter’s favour disinheriting his son. From what Inspector Bowman was able to ascertain there had been several previous arguments over the Honourable Sebastian’s gambling debts. The servants were also told to prevent the son’s access into the house.

‘Several days later the son came down to the family seat to see his father, having heard from the solicitor and was outraged when his sister ordered the servants to throw him off the estate. The servants involved reported that the son uttered many foul and threatening curses promising that they would all suffer.

‘Following his removal from the estate, he seems to have been literally thrown through the gates, the Honourable Sebastian made his way to the Red Lion where he got quite drunk. Before he left to catch the London train he promised the assembled company that “I will make them pay for this. I will treat them like the vermin they are.”

‘On the fourteenth of November Lord Reventhorpe went to the local race course where three of his horses were running. While he was being wheeled round in his bath chair the Honourable Sebastian approached his father and asked to speak to him for a few moments in private.

‘According to the groom attending to Lord Reventhorpe, his lordship agreed reluctantly to his son’s request and asked the servant to move out of earshot. The father and son spoke for several minutes at the end of which the Honourable Sebastian produced some papers. The old man read them and then clasped his son’s arm. At that moment another gentleman, unknown to the groom, hurried up and there was a short conversation.

‘The following morning, at breakfast, Lord Reventhorpe told his butler that the Honourable Sebastian would be joining the family for dinner that evening. His daughter and son-in-law can give no explanation for his change of heart, but feel that he must have been told a plausible enough tale to persuade him to forgive his soon. His motive for wanting to get access to his father was, Inspector Bowman concludes, self evident.

‘Inspector Bowman returned to London and arrested Sebastian Lloyd-Carney at his town house.’

My master paused and continued. ‘I am not going to read you Inspector Bowman’s notes on his interview with the Honourable Sebastian as I feel that our ex-colleague may have prejudged the case and I intend to interview the prisoner myself.

‘Now we come to the letter from Mr MacDonald, from which I will read the relevant passages as most of the letter covers the facts that I have just related.

‘Mr MacDonald also went to the race meeting on the fourteenth and witnessed the conversation between the victim and his presumed murderer. Mr MacDonald writes, “having seen Lord Reventhorpe alone with his son, and honestly fearing that some mischief might be in progress I hurried over to support my old friend and if necessary to send the young rascal packing. Lord Reventhorpe looked happy and this forestalled my intended words. He told me that his son had spoken to him and had shown him proof that his actions, rather than being in despite of his father, were actually in the family’s best interests. He then said that he had acted like an intemperate old fool and wanted to reinstate the original will so I agreed to see him on the sixteenth inst.  Sebastian Lloyd-Carney was a party to this whole conversation and definitely knew that he would regain his inheritance in two days.”