by Evelyn James
“The family never looked back. They became inherently linked with the company and the prestige it granted them. Each generation was schooled to take it over and continue the Noble name. It was a legacy, a means of immortality. Elias believed in that, as did Joshua and his son Arthur. The name was important, it gave the family meaning as well as a small fortune. To throw that all away seemed like sacrilege to Henry. It would feel even worse to Arthur Noble. Simon was planning the move after he inherited the company and his father had handed over full control. There would be nothing Arthur could do. Equally, younger brother Elias would be cast off without an income. The firm has always been passed into the sole control of the eldest son. Younger siblings receive an income from the firm, but nothing more.
“When Simon sold the company, he would take all the profit for himself. He had no qualms about leaving Elias penniless. He had even been to a solicitor to discover if there was any legal requirement for him to split the money with Elias. He discovered there was none.”
“How utterly despicable!” Clara said. She had found Simon Noble obnoxious and selfish, but she had never thought he would be so cruel as to leave his own brother without a penny to his name.
“Henry thought so. He discovered the plans by accident,” Patricia explained. “It was August last year and Simon Noble had not attended one of the weekly meetings, stating he was unwell. During the course of the meeting some papers were required urgently and Henry recalled that Simon had requested them and taken them to his office. He was sent to fetch them by Arthur Noble. He had to search through the drawers in Simon’s desk to locate them and, while doing so, he stumbled over the letters you have in your hand.”
Patricia motioned to Captain O’Harris.
“He skimmed them, thinking they were the papers he wanted, but when he realised their content he felt sick to his stomach. After the weekly meeting, he made copies of the letters to return to Simon’s drawer and he kept the originals. He hoped Simon would not look at the copies closely enough to realise they were fake. Eventually he brought the letters to me and asked me to keep them safe.”
Clara took the letters from O’Harris and glanced through them. One was from a solicitor in respond to a letter asking where Simon stood in regards of Elias and the firm. Another was a valuation of the firm’s holdings, and yet another was from a company who were responding to an enquiry Simon had made to them, saying they would be willing to buy the firm for a set amount. The figure they stated in the letter had so many zeroes that it made the mind boggle. Clara whistled through her teeth as she saw the extent of Simon Noble’s duplicity.
“Exactly,” Patricia spoke. “Henry knew he could not sit on this information but he was afraid to act. What if he was not believed or Simon explained away the evidence? Arthur Noble might choose to believe his son, however improbable the explanation, over his employee. Yet, Henry would feel awful if he did not tell Arthur and something could have been done to prevent the firm leaving the family. He did not know what to do for the best, and that was when his drinking became extremely serious.”
“Maybe everything got to him at last,” Clara pulled the papers into a pile. “Maybe tonight he could not take the burden any longer and it slipped out when he was alone with Simon Noble.”
“And, to preserve his plans, Simon killed him,” Patricia mumbled glumly. “I do not know Simon Noble, but it strikes me that he is a man who puts the greatest value on money and would act violently to protect his wealth.”
“Henry perhaps confronted him below decks in the ship’s kitchen,” Clara theorised. “He was drunk and perhaps let slip what he knew by accident more than design. A spurt of anger got the better of his tongue. He blurted out what he knew, told Simon he was going to reveal the truth to his father and Simon could not allow that to happen. Well, there is my motive.”
“You are welcome to the letters,” Patricia said. “They are of no value to me anymore.”
Her face fell. The reality of everything was sinking in.
“Henry Kemp was a good man but, more importantly, he was my friend. He was his own worst enemy in many regards, but he always tried to do what was right,” a tear suddenly crept down Patricia’s cheek. “He did not deserve to die. Of all the men in this world, he surely did not deserve this.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The car drive back to the Mary Jane seemed to take a torturously long time. All the way Clara was burning with questions for Simon Noble and also feeling an eagerness to confront him. She had won, hadn’t she? Now she would knock that smug look off his face. Only, nothing was ever certain until a suspect had been arrested. And even then, there was always the court proceedings to endure.
Clara glanced through the letters again. They provided clear motive, but the elements were still disjointed. No one had seen Simon Noble stab Henry Kemp, there was always that reservation hanging over everything. There were plenty of other people on the ship who could have committed the crime, though what motive they might have was debatable. The letters only indicated that Simon had a reason to be angry with Henry. Did a person really kill someone because they planned to sell the family business? Clara played the doubts over and over in her head, trying to think how a good solicitor would. Simon Noble would have someone who could work every angle. Clara had a nasty feeling there were still too many gaps in her case.
They pulled up at the docks. The police were still stationed on the gangplank, but in the hours that had passed a number of guests who were of no relevance to what had happened, had been allowed to leave. Dock workers were keeping an eye on the liner, pondering what was going on. They were even more curious when the fancy car that had left earlier returned. Clara and O’Harris hastily exited it and ran for the gangplank.
The police constable recognised Clara and let her through.
“Do you know where Inspector Park-Coombs is?” She asked him as she nipped past.
“No, Miss, sorry.”
Clara headed back to the captain’s cabin, deciding this was the most likely place for Park-Coombs to still be. The letters were growing hot in her hand, her palms beginning to sweat with the tension of the moment. She almost felt as if they were burning her.
At the door to the captain’s cabin she paused, collected herself and knocked.
“Just a minute,” Park-Coombs’ deep voice boomed from inside.
Clara relaxed a fraction, knowing she had found him. She glanced at O’Harris, who smiled. It did not still the anxiety inside her.
Park-Coombs opened the door and allowed a pair of passengers to exit, before he motioned for Clara to join him inside.
“Any luck?” He asked as soon as the door was shut.
Clara handed him the papers.
“Simon Noble was secretly planning to sell the family company and Henry Kemp learned of this. He was torn between telling Arthur Noble or not. I surmise that last night he became so drunk that he blurted out to Simon Noble what he knew. Or perhaps they had spoken about it before and last night merely presented an opportunity.”
Inspector Park-Coombs took his time to examine each letter and document.
“Arthur Noble will be very unhappy about this,” he mused. “I know a little about the family, the business has always been very important to them. At least, to the older generation.”
“I think it would be safe to say that if Arthur knew his son was going to sell the company as soon as he inherited, he would not get the chance. That would be a lot of money Simon would lose, not to mention his father might have cut him off without a penny for even considering it,” Clara said.
“Let’s get them all in here and have a chat,” Park-Coombs agreed. “I would like to see the look on Simon Noble’s face when we reveal to his father what he was planning.”
Park-Coombs went to the door and called out to a police constable stationed nearby to fetch the Nobles. Then he returned to the room and waited with Clara and O’Harris.
“We are a step closer,” he told them. “Simon Nob
le had a very good reason for wanting Henry Kemp silenced.”
Clara hoped a jury would see things that way.
Around half an hour later, the three Nobles appeared in the room. Arthur entered first, looking fed-up. Clara half expected him to demand to be allowed to go home. Simon came second, an arrogant smile on his face. He was convinced Clara could not touch him and his nonchalance was beginning to unsettle her. She wanted to wipe that smile from his lips, she was just not sure she had quite enough to do that just yet. Elias brought up the rear, keeping behind everyone and with his head down. Aiming to keep out of trouble.
The three men were offered chairs by Park-Coombs at the table. They sat in a semi-circle; Simon, Arthur and then Elias, facing Park-Coombs, Clara and O’Harris. Clara sat opposite Simon Noble, determined to watch every twitch of his face as she revealed what she now knew.
“Thank you for joining us,” Park-Coombs began politely.
“I am tired of this ridiculous performance,” Arthur Noble snapped. “I should have been home hours ago. I am supposed to be welcoming guests this evening.”
“You may wish to cancel them,” Park-Coombs said calmly.
“Whatever for?” Arthur snapped.
“Because I believe your son murdered Henry Kemp last night,” Park-Coombs continued in the same placid tone. Park-Coombs never became excited during an interview and he rarely allowed anger to slip through. His calmness was usually unsettling to his suspects.
Arthur Noble went very still as the inspector spoke. The implications of what he had said had stunned the normally bombastic man into temporary silence. His cheeks reddened and Clara was not sure he had taken a breath in a while. She awaited an anticipated explosion.
“How dare you call my son a murderer!” Arthur Noble reacted somewhat predictably. “We are leaving this ship at once! I will not have my family accused of being criminals.”
Arthur Noble rose from his chair and Simon was quick to follow. Inspector Park-Coombs spoke in an even tone.
“I have some information here you will wish to see, Mr Noble. Information that will make you hesitate at defending your son so belligerently.”
Clara was watching Simon Noble’s face, but he did not blanch or even startle. She started to feel her doubts returning. He seemed too calm and confident. However, Arthur Noble had hesitated.
“You have no proof my son is a murderer!” He yelled, but he hadn’t move closer to the door.
Maybe he had had his own doubts about Simon?
“Would you like me to show you your son’s bloody shirt?” Inspector Park-Coombs asked him politely, rather like he was offering him a cup of tea. “The blood on it is most certainly that of Henry Kemp.”
Arthur no longer moved. He glanced at his son, then back at the inspector.
“Please sit down, so we can explain properly,” Park-Coombs persisted. “You will want to hear this.”
Arthur Noble did not look convinced, but he did slowly sit down again. Simon was now the only one left standing and the first signs of discomfort were creeping onto his face. He gripped the back of his chair with a hand and his knuckles went white, then he sat down and glowered at Clara. His expression said it all, he was challenging her – do your worst.
“Explain to me what makes you think my son did this thing,” Arthur Noble asked, his voice threatening, though also uneasy.
“Henry Kemp remained on board when everyone else was evacuated,” the inspector began. “He was seen going down below. One of the first lifeboats to return to the Mary Jane was the one that contained Simon Noble. Simon was witnessed leaving the lifeboat and going off on his own to look for Henry Kemp. Miss Dodd had been upset about Henry remaining aboard and she had insisted that someone should look for him when the lifeboats returned. They assumed this was what Simon was doing when he went off alone, however, we may also conjecture he had other motives.”
“Conjecture is not proof,” Arthur Noble declared fiercely.
“I shall present you with proof,” the inspector was not intimidated. “At some point Simon Noble found Henry Kemp in the ship’s kitchen. He was witnessed standing over Henry’s body.”
“Witnessed by whom?” Arthur Noble demanded.
Simon Noble was grinding his teeth, but kept his mouth shut.
“The witness did not see Simon commit the crime,” Inspector Park-Coombs continued without answering Arthur’s question. “Simon has already told us that he merely came across Henry already dead.”
“Completely logical!” Arthur Noble interrupted swiftly.
“Except,” Park-Coombs continued patiently. “Simon informed no one of the discovery. Instead, having somehow stained his shirt with Henry’s blood – I shall allow you to conjecture on how he did that – he went to his cabin and changed his shirt. He then returned to the party as if nothing had happened. A very peculiar thing for an innocent man to do who has just come across the body of someone he knew.”
Arthur Noble was going that dangerous red colour again, but even he was struggling to find an innocent reason for Simon’s actions.
“When we interviewed you all after Henry Kemp had been ‘discovered’, Simon made no indication that he knew of what had occurred. I find that very suspicious, but, as you have pointed out, that is not proof of anything,” Park-Coombs paused to await a response from Arthur, but it did not come. He carried on. “The problem we had, despite our doubts, was that there appeared to be no reason for Simon to have murdered Henry. I therefore sent Miss Fitzgerald out to speak to people onshore. She has returned with some very interesting information. Perhaps, Miss Fitzgerald, you will explain what you discovered?”
Clara was only too glad to do so. Her eyes shifting between Simon and Arthur, she pointed at the papers before the inspector.
“Henry Kemp was devoted to the company of Noble and Sons and felt a deep loyalty for you, Mr Noble.”
Arthur Noble seemed unaffected by the comment. Perhaps he assumed all his employees should be intrinsically loyal to him.
“By pure chance, Henry discovered that your son, Simon, was intending to sell the company as soon as he inherited it.”
“Lies!” Simon Noble finally could be silent no more. “I would not do such a thing!”
Arthur Noble did not look at his son. He appeared shaken, as if he too was struggling to rationalise Simon’s actions.
“These papers were found by Henry Kemp in Simon Noble’s desk. They reveal Simon’s plans. Henry was deeply torn as to what to do with this information. However, I believe he was planning on telling you everything, Mr Noble.”
“This is nonsense!” Simon Noble flapped.
Clara pushed the papers over to Arthur Noble. At first he would not look at them, then he lifted up the top one and frowned as he read the words.
“It’s true,” he said bleakly. “You were going to sell the company Simon.”
“No, it’s not how it looks!” Simon bleated to his father. “I was trying to discover the company’s worth, that’s all.”
“This letter implies you had already settled an agreement with our chief rival to sell once you took over Noble and Sons,” Arthur’s tone was flat, he could hardly believe what he was reading. “How could you? The company is the family. Selling would be a betrayal of me and your grandfather, and all those Nobles who have gone before us.”
“Who cares?” Simon barked, no longer pretending. “I don’t want to run the damn thing and sit in on damn awful twice weekly meetings for the rest of my life. I could have made a fortune!”
Arthur looked at him bleakly, something had been ripped out from him and he suddenly looked his age. He didn’t seem to recognise his son anymore.
“Does this all come down to money?” Arthur said. “Was that worth more than our family pride? Is that why you killed Henry?”
“I didn’t kill Henry,” Simon snapped. “I didn’t even know that he had these papers. I had no motive because I did not know that Henry was aware of my plans and no one can prove otherwis
e!”
Simon glowered at Clara, challenging her again.
“I think I can prove that you and Henry had spoken about this before,” Clara said carefully. “Henry Kemp kept his bedroom locked and no one was allowed to enter it because he kept his private papers there. He carried the key on him at all times, but the key was not with him when he was found. Someone had searched his pockets and taken the key. I think you wanted the papers back that Henry had copied. You knew he would have secured them somewhere and you searched his pockets for a clue to where they might be. You found the key, but did not know what it unlocked. As it was on Henry’s person you knew it was important and now you would have time to search his office and find what it fitted.
“That key proves you were searching Henry’s pockets and that you knew about the papers he had taken.”
“You are saying that whoever has that key on them must have searched Henry and is probably his killer?” Simon Noble clarified, then he grinned. “Well, that person will still have that key on them, I would imagine. Not the sort of thing they are going to risk losing. So, search us all for it and that will reveal your killer.”
Simon Noble rose from his chair and held out his arms, inviting them to search him. Clara did not like how this was going. He seemed too confident. Park-Coombs rose nonetheless and searched Simon. He went through every pocket in the man’s suit, but there was no key.
“Now search Elias,” Simon said darkly.
Elias Noble rose from his chair and waited patiently to be searched. Park-Coombs flashed a brief look of uncertainty at Clara as he strode over to the younger brother and repeated the process of going through all his pockets. When he reached an inner pocket of Elias’ jacket he paused, then he pulled out a key. It might have been a key to a safe, but Clara knew it was the key to Henry’s bedroom door. And it was in the pocket of the wrong man. Park-Coombs frowned as he held the key before him. Clara’s heart sank a little. She didn’t look at him, but she knew that Simon Noble had that Cheshire cat grin on his face once again. He had fooled them once more.