by Helena Dixon
Inspector Greville took a sip of tea. ‘Nothing was stolen. The silverware and pictures were left untouched. A few small items of jewellery that hadn’t been locked in the safe were also left behind. The cash in the kitchen which was used to pay household expenses was also undisturbed. Only the boxes were searched.’
‘This is ridiculous.’ Kitty sprang to her feet and paced the few short steps to her grandmother’s bureau. ‘My mother left nothing of value, nothing.’
‘And yet my constables tell me there are several rumours sweeping the town that a priceless gem was entrusted to your mother for safekeeping and that someone has now returned to collect it. There are suggestions that she may have been harmed because she refused to reveal where it was stashed.’
Kitty sank back into her seat. ‘But who would have given her such a thing? And why would they look for it now, after all these years?’
The inspector had placed his cup back on the table. He leaned forward and templed his fingers together, his gaze fixed on her face. ‘We are led to believe that your father, Edgar Underhay, acquired a very valuable uncut ruby from some gentlemen in Chicago before the war and entrusted it to your mother on the understanding that he would recover it at some point in the future.’
‘You use the word “acquired”, Inspector?’ Matt asked.
The corners of the policeman’s mouth twitched upwards. ‘We are not sure that it was acquired legitimately, something to do with a poker game. This was not advisable as the gentleman who had claims on the stone is quite well-known in certain circles in Chicago. He let it be known that he expected it to be returned.’
A gasp escaped Kitty. A Chicago gangster and a stolen gem. The whole thing was preposterous, except Cora was dead and someone had searched both the hotel and Mrs Craven’s home. ‘But why now? Why after all this time?’
The grim smile on the inspector’s lips grew tighter. ‘All the main parties concerned have only recently been released from prison and are keen to recover the gem.’
‘Was my father in prison?’ Kitty asked.
‘He is certainly known to the authorities but no, I don’t believe he has been imprisoned recently. However, the officer I spoke to in Chicago believed he has sustained some major financial losses lately. I appreciate that Edgar has not been a part of your life, Miss Underhay, but he is now a person of interest in my investigations, and if he should be in touch with you, please let me know.’
Matt whistled. ‘You’ve no doubt heard also, Inspector, that there have been reported sightings of Edgar Underhay in London.’
‘All of which adds credibility to the rumours, no doubt. Miss Underhay, I will be asking my men to keep a close watch on the hotel and strongly advise you not to leave the premises alone until this matter is resolved.’
‘I’m sure Kitty will be very careful.’ Matt gave her a meaningful look and colour crept into her cheeks as she remembered her stroll by the river the previous day. ‘You may wish to trace a Mr Kelly. I’ve had no success so far, but he has approached Kitty twice now, and we suspect he may have some kind of connection to whatever is going on. He claimed an acquaintance with her grandmother but seemed unaware of Kitty’s mother’s disappearance.’
‘Thank you. I agree, that would appear strange. We’re also still looking for Colin Wakes. Again, there are rumours that he has been seen locally. Should he contact you, or you hear anything, please let me know.’
Matt showed Inspector Greville out and returned to the office.
‘Suppose this Mr Kelly is my father?’ The words burst from Kitty and she pressed her palms together to stop her hands from trembling. ‘You could have put him in real danger if there are mobsters running around Dartmouth killing people and looking for something I don’t have.’ A sob escaped her.
Matt hunkered down in front of her and captured her hands in his. ‘Kitty, we don’t know who this man is. He may be a murderer. You are in danger because of him, you don’t owe him any loyalty.’ He squeezed her fingers.
‘I honestly don’t know what to think. First, I believe my father is probably dead or in America, then he’s in London, now he may be here in Dartmouth but he’s apparently both a coward of the worst kind and very possibly a convicted felon and a gambler.’ She shook her head as a tear escaped to trickle down her cheek.
‘This will all get sorted out soon. Inspector Greville is a good man, and I will be with you until he has apprehended the person responsible, whether or not that is your father.’ Matt drew a handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to her, trying not to think about how he was now offering her the very reassurances he’d told himself not to.
Kitty dabbed away the tear, comforted by his proximity and his kindness. His gaze locked with hers and her heart skipped a beat.
He straightened up and turned away. ‘Try and get some rest, Kitty. I’ll be downstairs. I need to check on a few things.’
Before she could say anything, he left, and she wondered if she had imagined the expression she’d seen in his eyes when he’d comforted her.
Matt was thoughtful as he strolled down the broad, polished oak staircase to the ground floor. His reaction to Kitty’s proximity disturbed him. After Edith’s death he had never anticipated that he might feel something for another woman again.
As he was about to descend the final few steps, he spotted two people deep in conversation, which held him to his place for a moment. The tall, elegant, flamboyant figure of Vivien Delaware appeared to be engaged in a tête-à-tête with the stubby, straw-boatered Hubert Farjeon. A most unlikely pairing.
The couple passed the bottom of the staircase without glancing in his direction. Thinking swiftly, he slipped down the final few steps and dodged quickly into the back office behind the desk, leaving the door slightly ajar. Fortunately, the girl on reception was preoccupied with a new arrival and her lapdog and didn’t notice his actions.
‘Really, Mr Farjeon, I have no idea what you mean. I know nothing of the matter.’ Vivien’s voice carried to his hiding place. She sounded indignant but also slightly shaken and Matt wondered what the precursor to her reply had been.
He risked a quick peek through the gap between the door and the frame to see Miss Delaware marching away, pulling on her gloves as she walked.
Hubert merely appeared thoughtful as he strolled past Matt’s hiding place and out of the hotel.
Matt was about to emerge into the lobby when he realised that he hadn’t been the only voyeur of the little scene. Bobby was standing in the shadows near the elevator and he didn’t look very happy with Hubert Farjeon. In fact, Matt thought he looked downright murderous.
Chapter Seventeen
Miss Delaware seldom appeared downstairs before midday, preferring to breakfast in her room as her show finished quite late. Matt was therefore surprised to encounter her outside the hotel at a little before ten the day after he’d witnessed her meeting with Hubert Farjeon.
‘Captain Bryant, Matt.’ She placed a gloved hand on his arm. ‘May I speak with you in private?’
He tried to hide his surprise and offered her his arm. ‘Shall we take the morning air? Will your husband be joining us?’
They strolled along the embankment as if admiring the view along the river. The walkway was still quiet with few people about. On the water, the boat men were preparing their vessels. ‘Bobby has some business matters to attend to. I had one of my heads so I came out to get some air.’
‘How can I help you, Miss Delaware?’ He was sure she had been loitering, hoping to catch him. He had no doubt that her maid or one of the hotel staff would have told her of his habit of going for a morning stroll after breakfast.
‘Oh, do call me Vivien, please, honey. Miss Delaware makes me feel so old.’
‘Very well, Vivien.’ He waited for her to continue.
‘You appear very close to Kitty. She’s such a sweet little thing and I don’t want to see her get hurt.’
Matt frowned; the hairs at the nape of his neck were prickling an
d he knew something was off kilter. ‘In what way do you mean?’
‘Listen, Edgar Underhay is here in Dartmouth. I saw him yesterday. I know about the jewel he left with Kitty’s mother and I’m sure he must be here to try and recover it.’
Matt stopped. ‘Is that what Hubert Farjeon was discussing with you yesterday?’
Vivien released his arm, a look of fury crossing her face. ‘That unpleasant little chancer. He was fishing for information, hinting he knew something about that woman who was found in the river.’
They paused for a moment, looking out at the dark water rushing along just a few feet from where they stood.
‘Did he say what he knew?’ Matt asked.
‘No, just a load of unpleasant hints.’ Vivien held her chin high.
‘He was trying to blackmail you?’
She snorted. ‘Hell no, what with? Like I said, the man was fishing for something, like he thought I might know something. Absurd.’
Matt was not convinced by her denial. Hubert may have been fishing for information but her demeanour when he mentioned blackmail had been telling. ‘You said you knew about the jewel?’
She darted a quick glance at him. ‘That’s why I’m worried for Kitty. She needs to put that thing in a safe place. There are people who will stop at nothing to get their hands on it. That chunk of rock was Eddie’s insurance and I’d say he wants it back now. His coming here is pointing right at Kitty.’
‘Is that chunk of rock, as you call it, the real reason why you took this engagement?’
Her gaze shifted from his. ‘That would be ridiculous. I was curious to see Eddie and Elowed’s girl. I hoped to renew my friendship with Elowed. I would have expected her to have gotten rid of that gem a long time ago if Edgar hadn’t been back for it.’
Perhaps it was the army training, but Matt just knew that she was lying. ‘Did you ever see the jewel?’
‘It didn’t look like much, just a chunk of rock. It hadn’t been cut. Edgar showed it to me once when he’d had a few, just before Elowed and Kitty sailed. He won it in a poker game.’
‘And seeing him in the club in London, you guessed why he was here and where he would be headed. What makes you think Elowed didn’t have it with her when she disappeared?’ Matt knew his tone was scornful. ‘I think you should return to the hotel.’
Vivien faced him, her eyes blazing. ‘You can think what you like, Mr Bryant, but Kitty’s life may be in danger over that jewel. Edgar isn’t the only person to want to get his hands on it, and there are people who want to get their hands on Eddie and they may try to use Kitty to do that.’
‘Thank you for the warning.’ Matt tipped the brim of his hat to her and strode away towards the town. He made straight for the police station; he wanted to speak to Inspector Greville as soon as possible.
He was shown into a small, rather dark back room containing a desk and a couple of chairs that the inspector appeared to be using as an office. ‘Captain Bryant, good morning.’
Matt told the inspector of his conversation with Vivien Delaware.
‘I take it you don’t believe her motivation for speaking with you?’ Greville asked.
‘No, sir, I think she may have been trying to establish if Kitty had found the stone or had contact with her father. Although I do believe she is correct to think that Kitty might be in danger.’
The inspector leaned back in his chair, tapping the end of his pencil on the desk as he thought. ‘I’ve increased the patrols and Miss Underhay appears to be a sensible young woman. I’ve men searching the area making house enquiries to try and trace this Mr Kelly and also to try and find Colin Wakes. That wretched reporter appears to be everywhere though, asking questions. I’d like to know who told him about the jewel, although I suppose it could have come from a number of sources.’
‘Walter Cribbs. Yes, I suppose this is a big news story. He certainly seems very well informed.’
‘Humph.’ The inspector didn’t appear impressed. ‘Miss Underhay and her grandmother know nothing about this supposed jewel?’
‘No, sir. At least Kitty definitely doesn’t. I’m not sure about her grandmother. I always get the feeling she may not have told me everything.’
‘I see, and you say Miss Delaware was in conversation with Mr Farjeon and he hinted that he knew something about Cora’s death?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘In that case I think we need to speak to our friend Hubert and see what he has to tell us.’
Greville had barely finished speaking when the telephone rang. ‘What? I see, yes, on our way.’ He placed the receiver back on the handset.
‘It seems we are too late, Captain Bryant. Mr Farjeon has been found dead, murdered inside his booth.’
Matt scrambled to his feet and joined the inspector as they headed back towards the riverbank. It took a matter of minutes to reach the green and yellow turret-shaped booth where Hubert Farjeon sold tickets for his motor coach tours.
A small knot of interested bystanders had gathered nearby, kept at bay by a sturdy, ruddy-cheeked constable. Matt tagged along with the inspector as he approached the small booth.
‘Where is he?’
‘Inside, sir. Sergeant said to leave everything till you got here. The doctor is on his way.’
The booth was still shuttered with the door slightly ajar.
‘Who found him?’ The inspector surveyed the scene.
‘The errand boy from the grocers. Mr Farjeon had ordered some bread, cheese and fruit. It was a regular order and the lad came down, knocked on the door, it swung open and he found Mr Farjeon dead inside.’ The constable pointed to a young boy sitting, white-faced, on a nearby doorstep talking to the sergeant.
Inspector Greville nodded and opened the door to the booth carefully with a gloved hand. Matt followed behind him as the constable shielded the scene from the bystanders with his body.
Matt did his best not to recoil from the sight that greeted him. Hubert Farjeon lay sprawled half-off the high wooden chair he used for taking ticket sales. The sticky metallic scent of blood reached Matt and it was all he could do not to gag. It brought back too many memories, images of other scenes with that terrible scent. Faces of friends and comrades flashed through his mind.
Hubert looked startled, as if he had not expected his assailant to strike him down, but the dull black hilt of a large knife buried in his chest told its own story.
Matt was relieved when the inspector closed the door again. ‘The doctor should be here in a moment. Constable, please move these people on, after you’ve checked if any of them saw or heard anything suspicious and taken their details.’
Relieved he no longer had to look at Hubert’s body, Matt sucked in a lungful of air. He had seen too many bodies, too much death. The bystanders were grumbling as the constable shooed them away. Amongst them was the black-coated figure of Walter Cribbs scribbling away in his notebook as he talked to the people.
The doctor’s car drew up and the inspector accompanied him into the booth. Matt stayed outside and lit a cigarette. He would wait until the corpse had been removed before asking the inspector about the doctor’s thoughts.
A hearse drew up behind the doctor’s car and a few minutes later the undertakers were given the nod to remove the late Hubert Farjeon from his booth.
Greville joined him. ‘Doctor Carter puts the time of death no earlier than about two hours ago. That ties in with the time Hubert normally reached his booth every morning.’
Matt finished his cigarette, dropping the stub and grinding it out with his toe. ‘I thought so, the blood was still viscous.’
‘No clues from the knife. Looks like a common or garden kitchen knife. The kind they sell at the local store. The boy didn’t see or hear anything suspicious. He said the ferry hadn’t come over when he arrived with the food for Farjeon’s lunch.’
The sound of the hearse door slamming signalled that Hubert Farjeon had been removed.
‘There didn’t appear to be any sign
s of a struggle. It looks as if Farjeon let his murderer into the booth.’
‘Suggesting it was either someone he knew, or someone he was expecting,’ Matt said. He wondered where Vivien had been before she had waylaid him. Even more importantly, where was Bobby?
‘There appeared to be no papers or documents other than the ticket pouch for the tour company. No signs of anything being taken or of a search being made.’ The inspector stroked his moustache. ‘This is a most serious turn of events. I’m going to Mr Farjeon’s lodgings to see if there is anything there which could shed any light on his death. Captain Bryant, I suggest you return to the Dolphin and stay with Miss Underhay. The killer is getting bolder, and if this man, Kelly, attempts to contact her, I need to know immediately.’
‘Of course, sir.’
Matt cut through the town to return to the Dolphin. The scent of blood was still in his nostrils and he found it hard to reconcile the normal everyday hustle and bustle of the town with the horror he had just witnessed. Coming so soon after seeing Cora’s bloated features, all the buried horrors of the war were pushing to the front of his mind.
He knew he couldn’t return to the hotel in this frame of mind. He needed some time and space to think. He retraced his steps until he reached St Saviours church. Finding the huge carved medieval door standing open, he stepped inside and took a seat at the back of the church. The interior of the church was old, the woodwork carved and painted in reds and golds. He was dimly aware of the curious gaze of the cleaner, mopping the entrance. Closing his eyes, he allowed the sanctuary of the ancient space to enfold and calm him.
Gradually the smell of death that seemed to have followed him from the booth was replaced by the lavender aroma of the beeswax polish being diligently applied to the pews. He wasn’t certain how long he had been there, but the cleaner had almost finished her chores. At least now his hands had stopped shaking and his heart rate and breathing were back to normal.