Crime at Guildford

by Freeman Wills Crofts

  ‘Then,’ said Ricardo, ‘it’s a question of foretelling whether or not there’s going to be a boom?’

  ‘Partly that,’ Norne returned. ‘But also I think we must get down more closely to actual figures. I’ve got here some quite rough notes of our probable position in various actualities,’ he indicated some sheets of paper on his desk, ‘which might serve as a basis of discussion.’

  The others nodded their approval and Norne, having picked up one of the sheets, went on: ‘Now, to take first the current year. Suppose, instead of paying the whole of Molloy and Dobson’s account—’ and he began a highly technical exposition of various possible actions and their problematical results. His three companions listened carefully, and when he had finished broke into an equally technical discussion.

  Soon, however, it became apparent that in spite of the illuminating—or befogging—influence of figures, agreement was no nearer attainment. The talk dragged on, but grew steadily more aimless and unprofitable. It was evident that the difference between Sloley and the others was fundamental and that neither side was prepared to give way.

  At last Sloley jerked himself round in his chair.

  ‘Look here,’ he exclaimed, ‘we’re getting no-where with all this. Tell you what, Norne. Suppose we drop it for the present and have another meeting? We’ve a fortnight to make up our minds, and a bit more thought about the thing wouldn’t do any of us any harm.’

  This produced another difference of opinion. While Ricardo and Sir Ralph welcomed the proposal, Norne advised caution.

  ‘We should be very careful,’ he declared, ‘about holding extra conferences at the present time. You know as well as I do that already there are rumours going as to our position. As a result, our stock is dropping. You may bet we’re being watched, and if we keep on having emergency meetings someone will tumble to it and our chance of raising fresh capital will be gone for good.’

  Ricardo seemed impressed with this argument, and Sir Ralph nodded his agreement. But Sloley gesticulated impatiently.

  ‘Well,’ he returned, ‘if you don’t want our meeting to be known, let’s hold it on Sunday. Not here—someone would be sure to get to know. I’ll tell you. Come to my house. It’s not very big, as you know, but it’ll be big enough for all we want. Come along after breakfast and I’ll put up a spot of lunch.’

  ‘And have Mrs Sloley’s eternal curses on our souls?’ Norne returned. ‘It’s jolly good of you, Sloley, but we’ll do nothing of the kind. I think a meeting on Sunday’s not a bad notion, but if we’re going to anyone’s house we’ll go to mine. A bachelor has a pretty big pull in those sort of things.’

  ‘Can’t go to you,’ Sloley answered. ‘Too far away for Ricardo.’

  Ricardo lived near Ely and Norne at Guildford.

  ‘Don’t worry about me,’ interposed Ricardo. ‘I’ll come up the night before and stay in Town.’

  ‘No,’ said Norne, ‘I can think of something worth two of that. You’ll all come down and spend the weekend with me. I’d like to show you the new billiard room. We can have a game on Saturday evening, then on Sunday we’ll have a clear day, free from interruption. We can get at this business early and stick at it till we’re agreed. What about it?’

  After a further short discussion this was agreed to. Norne was a comparatively wealthy man and his house was large and expensively run. He liked to fill it, and his weekend parties of sometimes as many as a dozen were well known. Each of the others present had been his guest on more than one previous occasion.

  ‘Next Saturday, then?’ said Sloley when the matter was decided.

  ‘I can’t go next Saturday,’ Sir Ralph pointed out. ‘I shall be in Paris. But that doesn’t matter. You can get on all right without me.’

  ‘No,’ said Norne, ‘we can’t do without you. What about Saturday week?’

  This also was agreed to and then Sloley made another proposal.

  ‘I seem to be monopolising the conversation, but there is one other thing I should like to put up. It’s not for me to suggest who your guests might be, you know, old man,’ he glanced at Norne, ‘but what about asking Minter and Sheen to attend? They’re pretty good men, both of them, and they know the facts. It’s just that when we’re at this deadlock two fresh points of view might be a help.’

  ‘If you all think so, I shall be delighted to have them,’ said Norne.

  The two men referred to were highly-placed officials of the Company. Charles Minter was the accountant, and Henry Sheen the secretary. In saying they were both good men, Sloley had kept strictly within the truth; indeed, in the case of Minter he was understating it. If Sheen was a sound, though not outstanding man, Minter was a genius in his own line. Had his constitution been good, he would have been a very exceptional man, but unhappily for himself, he was troubled by chronically poor health. However, even with this handicap his services were invaluable to the Company.

  ‘I dare say Sloley’s right,’ Sir Ralph said after a short pause. ‘We consult them at our regular board meetings. I don’t see why we shouldn’t do the same at our private discussions.’

  ‘You agree, Ricardo?’ asked Norne.

  ‘Oh, I agree, yes,’ the little man returned. ‘I’d like it.’

  It was finally settled that all were to meet at Norne’s house near Guildford in time for dinner on the following Saturday week, Norne undertaking to see Minter and Sheen and get them to join the party. The meeting then came to an end, Norne resuming work in his office and the other three leaving the building.

  2

  Enter Death

  Sir Ralph Osenden duly went to Paris in an Imperial Airways liner, and was greatly delighted with his experience. He stayed there a week, partly on business and partly on pleasure, returning on the Thursday to his home near Ryde with the consciousness not only of duty well done, but of leisure happily spent.

  Having rung up Norne and been assured that the weekend arrangement stood, he took the train from Portsmouth on Saturday afternoon. At Guildford he was met by Norne’s elderly chauffeur, Whatman, whom he had known for years, and was driven through the fringe of the pleasant old town up to Guildown, where Norne had built his house. Though it was now dark, Osenden knew from previous visits the fine situation of the little estate. While comparatively close to the town, it was perched high on the side of the hill, and looked out over a charming and characteristic stretch of the woods and ridges and valleys of that entirely delightful part of Surrey.

  The door was opened by a strange butler, and instead of receiving the respectful greeting to which he was accustomed, Sir Ralph had to explain himself. The man immediately led the way to the library. Norne and Ricardo were buried in deep chairs before the fire.

  ‘Ah, Osenden, glad to see you,’ the former exclaimed, heaving himself up and wheeling over a third chair. ‘Ricardo’s just turned up. Sit down and have a spot?’

  ‘And how’s the gay city?’ Ricardo asked, when the newcomer was settled.

  Osenden said that the gay city was where it always was, and added that he had met Ricardo’s friend, Dupont, in the foyer of the Opera House. The talk thereupon became personal and intimate.

  ‘We’re going to be a small party this evening,’ Norne went on. ‘Just the three of us for dinner.’

  ‘How’s that?’ Sir Ralph asked. ‘Aren’t the others coming down?’

  ‘Not till later. Sheen’s youthful hope, it seems, is having a birthday, and there’s some matter of a long-standing promise to take her to her first theatre. Sheen and Sloley are neighbours, and it appears the wives got together and Sloley has had to join the party with his youngsters. That’s the man who wanted to invite us all to lunch without consulting his wife.’

  ‘Ever met Mrs Sloley?’ put in Ricardo.

  ‘Never.’

  ‘I have. Nice little woman. Too nice for Sloley, if you ask me.’

  ‘I can imagine it,’ Norne returned dryly.

  ‘Then aren’t those two coming down?’ Sir Ralph asked again
.

  ‘They are: after their show. Sloley wanted to put it off till tomorrow, but I said to come tonight. They should be here by twelve-thirty, and I don’t suppose any of us will be in bed before that.’

  ‘And what about Minter? Is he joining the happy throng also?’

  ‘Minter has cried off so far as dinner is concerned, but he’ll be here about nine. He rang up some time ago to say that he had one of his attacks and that he wanted to stay quiet for an hour or two. He said it was nothing, but that he’d wait and come down by the 8.15, instead of the five-something he’d intended.’

  ‘Delicate chap, Minter,’ Ricardo observed. ‘A great pity. If he had ordinary health he’d be a pretty outstanding man.’

  ‘He’s an outstanding man as it is,’ Norne declared. ‘I don’t know where you’d get a better accountant.’

  ‘You know what I mean,’ Ricardo insisted. ‘If he’s as good as he is with that handicap, what would he not be if he were physically strong?’

  ‘Might be too good for us,’ Norne commented. ‘If he was such a genius as you suggest, he mightn’t find the Company gave him enough scope.’

  ‘It seems to me,’ Sir Ralph said dryly, ‘that as things are at present, the Company is giving him all the scope he could want.’

  ‘You’re right,’ Ricardo admitted. ‘Anyone who can pull us out of our present difficulties won’t be short of something to think about. No developments, I suppose, Norne, since our last meeting?’

  Norne shrugged. ‘Only what you’re seen for yourselves in the press—that our stock has dropped another two points.’

  ‘Yes: very unfortunate that.’ Sir Ralph shook his head dejectedly. ‘It won’t help us if we want to raise more capital.’

  ‘It won’t.’ Norne agreed.

  ‘Talking of that drop,’ Ricardo observed, ‘the sensitiveness of the market has always been a marvel to me. There have been some whispers as to our condition and at once there’s a drop in our stock, exactly proportional to the strength of the rumours and the amount of doubt aroused.’

  Norne nodded. ‘That’s true. On the Stock Exchange you can put an exact money value on fear: about the only way in the world it can be done.’

  Gradually Ricardo and Norne became involved in a philosophical argument on the sociological reactions of fear, while Sir Ralph, who was more interested in art, dipped into a copy of The Connoisseur. Presently the dressing-bell rang and all three drifted upstairs to their rooms.

  Dinner passed without incident and after coffee Norne took his guests to inspect the billiard room. It was a fine room and their obvious admiration pleased him. It was his new toy, and he was like a child showing it off.

  Soon the question of a game arose. Norne wanted to sit out and watch his guests play, but Ricardo disclaimed the necessary skill, and presently Norne and Sir Ralph took each other on for a hundred up. Ricardo sat and smoked and joined in the desultory conversation.

  Norne easily winning the first game, and Ricardo still wishing to stand out, Sir Ralph asked for his revenge and they played a second. Luck fell once more to Norne, though this time with a smaller lead. When they had finished, Norne glanced at the clock.

  ‘By Jove!’ he said, ‘there’s ten o’clock. Minter should have been here before this. I hope to goodness he’s coming. I’ve come to agree with Sloley that he might be very helpful to us tomorrow.’

  ‘He hasn’t sent any further message?’ Ricardo suggested.

  ‘I haven’t heard of any,’ Norne returned, ‘but we’ll make sure.’ He pressed one of the many buttons which occurred at intervals round the walls.

  ‘Oh, Jeffries,’ he went on when the man appeared, ‘no sign of Mr Minter?’

  ‘Yes, sir, he’s come. He came about quarter-past nine.’

  ‘Oh, he’s come, has he? Why didn’t you show him in?’

  ‘He said he wasn’t feeling very well, sir, and that he’d like to go quietly up to his room and lie down. I took him up and saw that he had everything he required.’

  ‘You might have told me.’

  ‘If you’ll excuse me, sir, he said he’d like half an hour to quiet down first, and then I was to ask you if you’d go up and see him. I had decided to tell you at ten o’clock.’

  ‘Oh, all right. He’s in the pink room, isn’t he?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Too bad that he should be laid up,’ Norne went on when the man had withdrawn. ‘I hope to goodness he’ll be about tomorrow. I’ll go up and see him now. Will you two take each other on till I come back?’

  Five minutes later Norne returned. He had a folded paper in his hand and looked rather grave. ‘I’ve seen the chap,’ he said, ‘and he certainly looks pretty bad. He’s lying there in the semi-dark: says the light hurts his eyes. But he says it’s an ordinary attack that he gets regularly, and that it just runs its course and passes.’

  ‘What is it exactly that’s wrong?’

  ‘He said it was simply a common bilious attack with sickness and headache, and that this bad bout was his own fault for coming down tonight. He said he felt better when he was leaving home, but the train made him worse again.’

  ‘So it would,’ Ricardo said with feeling. ‘I’ve suffered from the same thing and I know.’

  ‘I wanted to send for a doctor, but he wouldn’t hear of it. Said he only wanted a sleep, so I’ve told Jeffries not to call him in the morning. He evidently didn’t want to talk, so I didn’t stay.’

  Norne held up the paper he was carrying. ‘Here’s a statement from Sheen,’ he went on. ‘I’m not sure that I’ve got the idea correctly, but it seems Sheen thought it might help us tomorrow if we had a list of our shareholders with a forecast of how they might take up additional stock. It appears that all previous issues were taken up by our own shareholders. Sheen suggests that those connected with the motor or shoe industries, for example, which are prosperous, should be more likely to support us than those in coal or shipping, which aren’t. You see the idea?’

  ‘I think so,’ Sir Ralph said doubtfully, ‘but I don’t know that there’s much in it.’

  ‘I don’t know that there is,’ Norne agreed. ‘It’s probably a case of nothing like leather. Our worthy secretary deals with lists of shareholders, so a list of shareholders is what strikes him as the proper contribution to our discussion.’

  ‘Of course we do normally use information of that kind,’ Ricardo pointed out, ‘though in a more general form. We judge the probable response to an issue by the state of the market.’

  ‘That’s so,’ Norne admitted. ‘Well, at all events, it seems Sheen persuaded Sloley to go back with him to the office this evening and look over the list. They rang up Minter to ask him to call for it on his way down, so that he could check over their conclusions in the train. Minter said it seemed all right at a casual glance, but he was too seedy to consider it properly. He’s passed the document on to me. What about looking over it now, or shall we leave it till tomorrow?’

  Sir Ralph thought that as Sheen had taken so much trouble about it, the least they could do would be to look at it. Ricardo agreed, and their resolution to forswear business for the evening was rescinded, and they settled down to go into the document.

  After study they had to agree that the figures were suggestive and even reassuring.

  ‘It’s all pretty problematic,’ Ricardo declared, ‘but it’s ingenious, and it does seem to indicate that if we wanted capital, we’d get it. And after all, that’s an important point for tomorrow.’

  ‘I think so too,’ Sir Ralph added. ‘Whether we reconstruct or not, the question of raising capital will probably arise, and I think these figures are useful enough.’

  Norne shrugged. ‘Well, we’ve read the blessed paper and I vote we drop the subject for tonight. You two didn’t have a game?’

  Neither Sir Ralph nor Ricardo were enthusiastic about playing. Norne presently gave it up as a bad job, and the three men went back to the deep armchairs before the library fire. Ricardo po
ssessed a seemingly unending fund of stories, most of which were new to the others. So entertaining was he, that time was forgotten till, with a start, Sir Ralph looked at the clock.

  ‘Bless my soul, almost one o’clock!’ he exclaimed. ‘I had no idea it was so late. D’you know, Norne, if you don’t mind, I’ll turn in. I must get my proper sleep or I’ll be no good tomorrow.’

  ‘If you feel like it, of course. You know your way. Those two should be here by now.’ He paused and listened. ‘There they are, by Jove! Steps approaching: steps of Fate!’

  As he spoke the door opened and Jeffries announced: ‘Mr Sloley. Mr Sheen.’

  ‘Hullo, you two,’ Norne greeted them. ‘I was just speaking of the devil, and see what happens. You must be cold. Pull in and have a spot.’

  He busied himself with the decanter and glasses. Sir Ralph postponed his departure and the five men grouped themselves round the fire.

  ‘Had a good run down?’ went on Norne, as he handed round drinks.

  ‘Quite good,’ said Sheen, ‘if not spectacular in the way of speed. We were held up by traffic leaving Town. Astonishing how full the streets are at theatre time.’

  Norne nodded. ‘I hate driving down. I always go by train.’

  They chatted for a moment and then Sloley asked if Minter had arrived.

  ‘He’s in bed,’ Norne answered. ‘He came shortly after nine and went straight up. He seemed to me pretty bad, but he declared he only wanted a rest to be all right. You saw him earlier?’

  ‘Yes, Sheen wanted him to have a look over his statement. You got that all right?’

  ‘Rather. We studied it most carefully. Jolly good, if you ask me.’