by Lee Strauss
Since some of the staff had not yet met Ginger and Felicia, Mr. Hammond made all the introductions, and then cleared his throat. “I am so sorry to have to lock all the doors and to request this meeting, but I’m afraid I have to ask that no one leave the building for the moment.”
“Well, we are eager to hear what this is all about, sir,” said a man Mr. Hammond had introduced as John Barnes. The chief caretaker had a slim, wiry appearance as if he were made of pipe cleaners.
Mr. Hammond responded grimly, “I am sorry to say that it looks like we have been robbed.”
A round of gasping was followed by narrow glances towards their neighbours.
“That seems right impossible,” a balding man protested.
“I’m afraid it’s true, Mr. Billings,” Mr. Hammond responded. “I’ve asked Mrs. Reed to help for now.” He glanced Ginger’s way nervously. “She’s a renowned private detective.”
A second round of gasping ensued.
“You mean t’say this ’appened when all o’ the lights went out?” Mr. Billings spouted.
Mr. Hammond nodded heavily. “It seems so.”
“What was it then?” Mr. Barnes asked. “The thing that was taken?”
Mr. Hammond looked to Ginger and sighed as if it pained him physically to admit the loss. “The missing object is a very valuable weapon known as the ‘Blade of T’Abriz’. It is part of the collection for the new exhibition due to open soon on the third floor.”
“That part of the building isn’t even ready for the exhibition,” added Miss Greene. “Wasn’t it kept under lock and key?”
Mr. Hammond grunted. “Yes.”
“But there are meant to be only two keys,” Mr. Steadman said.
“Yes, Mr. Steadman,” Ginger said, jumping in. “And you and Mr. Hammond are the caretakers of those keys. Mr. Hammond tells me you were in the office with him when the lights went out and that he was the one who went down the stairs.”
Mr. Steadman leaned in. “That’s where both the electrical room and the fuse box are located.”
“Even though they are on different sides of the building?” Ginger said.
“That’s correct,” agreed Mr. Steadman.
“Are the police on the way?” asked Mr. Barnes.
“Not yet,” Mr. Hammond said. “I’ll explain why later.”
Ginger had instructed Mr. Hammond to keep that part ambiguous. She realised that because of Boss’ strange behaviour, the fact that the jewel was missing had been discovered far earlier than the thief had planned for. There was no telling how the robber would react to the news that the police were on their way and would soon be just outside the door.
“In the interest of privacy and safety,” Ginger said, “we want to interview each of you separately in Mr. Hammond’s office. The first will be Mr. Billings, please. The rest of you please stay here with Mr. Hammond.”
Felicia and Ginger, with Boss in tow, headed with Mr. Billings down the steps to Mr. Hammond’s office.
“Please empty your pockets, if you don’t mind,” Ginger said as she and Felicia sat down. “It’s just a precaution.”
Ginger pulled out her notebook and handed it to Felicia who opened it and started writing notes. Boss lay down on the plush carpet next to Ginger. They watched as Mr. Billings took off his cap and then dutifully emptied all his pockets onto the desk and then turned them inside out. There was some loose change, a small cleaning rag, a box of matches, and a packet of Player’s Navy Cut cigarettes. Mr. Billings then sat down opposite the desk.
“Mr. Billings, can you tell us where you were when the lights went off?”
“I was on th’ first level in th’ clothin’ exhibits. I was just finishin’ cleanin’ th’ glass on the exhibit of Persian shoes.”
“Oh yes,” Felicia said. “I remember now seeing you there. You also had a broom and a dustpan with you. Isn’t that right?”
Mr. Billings dipped his chin. “Yeah, I was just waiting for you two t’ leave and then I was goin’ to do a final cleaning of the ’ole floor.”
“How long have you been working as a caretaker, Mr. Billings?” Ginger asked.
“Well, I bin ’ere for about five months now, I s’pose. Before that I was workin’ as a caretaker in different schools an’ ’ospitals. I’m the bloke ’oo can fix just about anythin’ that goes wrong and can clean up a mess as good as you please. I’m as good wiv a bucket and mop as I am wiv a spanner. I s’pose I’ve been doin’ this kind of work most of my life, even before the war.”
“Is this the first time you have worked at a museum?”
“Yes, that’s right I s’pose.”
“Have you ever been in the vault where the valuables are being kept?”
“No one is allowed in there ’cept Mr. Hammond ’isself or Mr. Steadman, madam. I ’ave never seen the inside of it, I don’t know wots there, and I don’t ’ave a key.”
“Thank you, Mr. Billings. That will be all for now. Please call in Mr. Barnes.”
Mr. Billings gathered up his items and left the room. Ginger turned to Felicia.
“He has a strong alibi. We would have seen him leave the floor, since it was completely dark and he would have had to use a torch.”
“Agreed.” said Felicia. “So motive is very unlikely as well.”
“I doubt he has the kind of connections one needs to fence this ‘Blade of T’Abriz’. Though,” Ginger added, “he may be a good actor. We don’t know that he didn’t just lie about his benign employment history.”
Mr. Barnes’ pockets did not reveal anything suspicious either. He sat down nervously. “I don’t mind saying that this is highly irregular.”
“We don’t like this any more than you do, Mr. Barnes,” Ginger said. “You seem a bit agitated.”
Mr. Barnes stared at both Ginger and Felicia with dark, questioning eyes, and then glanced away. If anyone looked suspicious, it was this man, Ginger thought.
“Oh, I am well enough,” Mr. Barnes said, sounding defensive. “I just don’t like being kept here like a prisoner, as if I’m a suspect. I’ve done nothing wrong.”
“You do recognise that under the circumstances, we have to proceed with diligence,” Ginger said. “If you have nothing to hide, then you have nothing to be concerned about. This should be all over soon.”
“I hope you’re right, Mrs. Reed. But it is highly irregular.”
“I agree. Now, where were you at the moment the lights went off?”
“Truth be told, I was making use of the lavatory.” Mr. Barnes shifted his shoulders back. “And I must tell you it took me a while to find my way out. I didn’t have a torch with me and the place was pitch black. I even stumbled and fell, bumping my head on the corner of the washbasin as I went down.” At this he lifted up some of his hair to reveal a large lump and a small cut on his left temple.
“Would we find blood on the washbasin there?” Felicia asked.
“I suppose you would. I haven’t had a chance to go and clean it up yet.”
Felicia made a note and then got up without a word to go to the public water closet, which was on the ground floor, not far from the office where they were meeting.
Mr. Barnes watched her leave, and Ginger watched him for a reaction. There was none.
“In any case,” Mr. Barnes said, “after I got myself sorted and found the door, I tried to feel my way around. Then I saw someone crossing the main lobby with a torch in his hands, I think it was Mr. Steadman. Saw him climb the steps to the first level and a few seconds later the lights came on.”
“Yes, that’s when we saw him too,” Ginger said. “He came up to make sure we were all right. Can I ask when you were taken on at the museum?”
“I’ve been working here since the beginning of this month, three weeks ago.”
“Where did you work before that?”
“I don’t see how that has anything to do with all of this,” Mr. Barnes said with a hint of belligerence. Boss’ head darted up and he emitted a soft whine. Gin
ger eyed him with a stern look of authority.
Mr. Barnes relented. “Before this, I worked as a caretaker at a school in Portsmouth, and before that at a hospital in Brentford. The school shut down a few months ago. That’s why I applied here.”
Felicia returned and nodded to Ginger, “There’s a little bit of fresh blood on the washbasin and on the floor. Not a lot but it definitely looks like someone fell there.”
Mr. Barnes huffed with an air of self-righteousness. “Can I go now?”
“Just one more question,” Ginger said. “Did you know about the ‘Blade of T’Abriz’ and that it was stored in the vault in the basement?”
“No, I didn’t. I mean to say that I did know that most of the newer artefacts are stored there in preparation for the forthcoming new exhibition, but I didn’t have any knowledge of any bejewelled Persian dagger. I had never heard of it before Mr. Hammond announced it just now in the lounge.”
Ginger blinked once and said, “Very well, Mr. Barnes, that is all for now. Thank you very much for your cooperation. You may join the others. We should have finished with all of this soon. Please call on Miss Greene, if you would, and ask her to bring her handbag.” Mr. Barnes left the room.
“Well, well,” said Ginger deep in thought.
“What’s the matter?” asked Felicia.
“He said he hadn’t even heard about the Blade of T’Abriz until we were in the lounge.”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Neither Mr. Hammond nor I have indicated that the stolen artefact was a Persian dagger, nor that it was bejewelled. It could just as easily be an unadorned sword. Yet Mr. Barnes just mentioned it after telling us he had never heard of the Blade of T’Abriz. The man is lying.”
5
Felicia worked her lipstick-laden lips and squinted at Ginger. “But his alibi is very good.”
“Yes,” Ginger said, “I know, and yet he is hiding something. The injury he claimed may have happened earlier.”
There was a soft knock, and the door to Mr. Hammond’s office opened. “I say, I think I am next.”
“Yes, Miss Greene, do please sit down.”
Miss Greene was an attractive lady in her mid-twenties with clear skin, green eyes, dark hair, and a trim figure.
“I am afraid we have to ask you to empty your handbag,” Ginger said. “You understand.”
“Of course.” Miss Greene emptied the contents onto the desk. Again, there was nothing suspicious about anything that she carried. After Felicia had finished writing down the contents, Miss Greene returned them to the bag.
“Can you please tell us what you were doing exactly when the lights went out?” Ginger asked.
“I was exactly where I usually am, working in my office.”
“Was anyone with you?”
“No, I was alone. I daresay that makes me a bit more suspect,” said Miss Greene. Her mouth was turned up at one side in a sort of sardonic smile.
“It’s a perfectly logical answer, Miss Greene.”
Miss Greene leaned forward in her chair. “Isn’t it a bit unusual that a lady is working as a private detective?”
“You’re very direct.” Ginger said smoothly. “Yes, it is, I suppose. Did you stay in your office while waiting for the lights to come back on?”
“Oh,” said Miss Greene as if she was surprised Ginger didn’t want to talk about her detective work. She leaned back in her chair. “Yes, I stayed at my desk and had a cigarette. I knew one of the men would get to the problem in good time.”
“Now, you were the first employee that Mr. Hammond took on, is that correct?” Ginger asked.
“Yes.”
“And before that you worked at a museum in Wales,” Ginger said, consulting her notes.
“Yes. The Museum of Roman History in Cardiff. I was there three years before the museum was closed down. Lack of funding, sadly.”
“And you helped interview the other job applicants?” Felicia asked.
“That’s correct.”
Felicia continued, “And was Mr. Steadman the first person you employed?”
Ginger looked at Felicia. Was she following a hunch?
“I am not sure that has anything to do with all of this,” Miss Greene replied, “but yes, I suppose he was.”
Ginger noted the defensiveness in her voice.
“He was taken on about two weeks after I got here.”
“Did you know any of the applicants before they were taken on?” pressed Felicia.
“They each applied for the job the same as anyone,” Miss Greene said indignantly, “by reading about it in the newspaper job postings.”
“That’s not what she asked,” Ginger said. “Were you personally acquainted with any of them?”
“No, I was not.”
“How much do you know about the Blade of T’Abriz?” Ginger asked.
“Mr. Hammond was quite secretive about what was in the vault. I think that was for security purposes,” Miss Greene said. “He keeps written records of course, but I have never seen them and I know very little about Persian daggers or sapphires.”
“How did you know it was a dagger and not a sword?” said Ginger. “And no one has mentioned anything about sapphires.”
“Well I… I don’t know, I just supposed,” Miss Greene stammered. “When Mr. Hammond said it was called ‘The Blade of T’Abriz’, my mind just went to a bejewelled dagger, but I suppose from the name of it, it could be a sword.”
“How do you like working here?” Ginger asked, letting the question about sapphires go unanswered.
“Oh, it’s all right.” Miss Greene paused for a moment. “But I am sure you know how it is, Mrs. Reed. Sometimes I feel like the place could be run a little better.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean,” Ginger said.
“Well, being a woman who knows her mind like you do, I am sure you have worked with men who can’t seem to take advice from members of the opposite sex. I mean, Mr. Hammond does an adequate job, but he’s not one for details. Why, today’s incident simply underscores that, doesn’t it? I have suggested to him on several occasions that we find a more secure way to store the more valuable antiquities, but he’s ignored my advice and, well… here we are, aren’t we?”
“More secure than a locked vault?” Felicia said.
“It’s a padlock.”
“What advice would you have given him?” Ginger asked.
“Oh, I don’t know.” Miss Greene crossed her legs and the top one swung. “Perhaps more than one lock on the door. Storing the artefacts in several rooms instead of all in one. We have several rooms down there that are empty now which could serve that purpose. Practical things like that.”
“You seem to know a bit about how things are stored,” Ginger commented.
“Oh, no, just in general terms. I’ve actually only been down there on one or two occasions.” Her chin jerked up and she stared at Ginger. “But I have never been in the vault, of course.”
“We thank you for your help, Miss Greene,” Ginger said. “Please call in Mr. Steadman, will you?”
When Miss Greene left the room, Ginger said, “Another person who’s veering from the truth.”
“Yes,” Felicia said. “And not just about the missing dagger.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s just a hunch. I need to think about it some more.”
“Very well,” Ginger said. “We’ll soon find out what Mr. Steadman has to say. He’s the only other person who had a key to both the building and to the vault, and yet is the man who seems to have the most solid alibi.”
6
After the usual emptying of the pockets, Mr. Steadman sat down in an empty chair. Ginger picked up the small key ring with two keys which the second curator had deposited on the desk.
“One is for the front door and one is for the vault,” he said. One of the keys was a cast iron skeleton key normally used for exterior doors. Ginger held it up and could see nominal signs of wea
r. The other was a padlock key which looked virtually unused and fresh from the locksmith.
“So far I have only used the vault key twice,” Mr. Steadman offered. “Once when I opened up the vault for the delivery lorry men to deliver the crates, and then again to close the door when they had finished later that same day. Other than that, I have never been in the vault.”
“Were you there in the room as the delivery men unloaded the crates?” Ginger asked.
“No. Mr. Hammond had me doing other duties while the men were here.”
“We already know where you were when the lights went out,” Felicia said.
“Mr. Hammond and I each grabbed a torch, and he went down to the fuse room while I went to the displays on the ground level here to make sure everyone was all right and to tell them to stay put. Then I went to the first floor to do the same. That’s when the lights came back on. I went directly back to Mr. Hammond’s office after that.” This story matched perfectly with Mr. Hammond’s account and also with what Ginger and Felicia had witnessed.
“Can you tell me where you worked before you came here to the Wainwright Museum?” Ginger asked.
“I worked at the Museum of Art and Literature in Berkshire as second curator for five years before it closed. Before that I worked at the Regimental Museum in Cornwall as a caretaker.”
“So, you have quite a lot of experience at museums,” Ginger said. It explained why Mr. Hammond had him as his right-hand man. “Have you ever had anything like this happen before in your career at museums?”
“No, never,” he said simply.
“Are you married?” asked Felicia. Again Ginger considered her sister-in-law. She’d been asking a lot of seemingly random questions.
“I have never married, miss.”
“Did you know anyone here before you came to work for the museum?” Felicia asked.
Mr. Steadman blinked, shifted slightly in his chair, and shook his head. “No, miss, I didn’t know anyone.''