by Jack Murray
‘Ryan and I feel the same way. It appears to be bigger than simply a lone burglar. But, if I may, do you have any information on this young woman or women?’
Kit thought for a moment and then decided to press ahead.
‘I think I may know who the young woman is. I’ve no proof, of course. I also know where she is employed now.’
Jellicoe was unquestionably smiling at this point. His faith in Kit was fully restored and, for a moment, he felt a pang of guilt at the impression he must have given earlier.
‘Would you mind waiting here, sir? I think I will bring Sergeant Ryan in on this.’
Kit waited in the office and reviewed what he was about to do. Having Mary working on the inside was causing him anxiety. He believed that young Rosling was capable of anything, especially with staff. Of the elder Rosling he knew little but suspected few would be immune to the charms of someone like Mary. However, by involving the police, was he throwing an innocent young woman to the wolves? He trusted Jellicoe and Ryan, from what he had seen of the young man. The other policemen sounded ghastly, and it would be better for all if the case achieved a swift conclusion.
The two policemen entered the office a few minutes later and sat down in front of Kit.
‘Sergeant Ryan, I’m pleased to see you again.’
Ryan smiled and nodded but made no reply. Jellicoe turned to Ryan and said, ‘Lord Aston may have information on the jewel robberies which he’s going to share with us now.’
Jellicoe and Ryan turned expectantly to Kit.
Kit looked first at Jellicoe and then turned to Ryan and said, ‘As I was explaining to the Chief Inspector earlier, I think we all believe there is a connection between the arrival of a young woman as a maid and the recent robberies. I think I may know who the young woman is. She is currently working under an assumed name and in disguise at a house in Sloane Gardens.’
Just as Kit was about to elaborate, the door burst open. The three men turned around to see Bulstrode and Wellbeloved walk into the office.
‘Hello, gentlemen,’ said Bulstrode, ‘I hope we’re not missing anything.’
Jellicoe looked up in shock at the new arrival. He took a moment to compose himself before saying, ‘Bulstrode, may I introduce Lord Aston.’ His voice was steady but there was no question, he had been startled.
Kit stood up and shook hands with the two men. Jellicoe’s reservation about Bulstrode were not difficult to comprehend. He had a face even a mother would struggle to love. One look at the two men and Kit made an immediate decision.
‘I’m a close friend of Lord Wolf, this so-called Phantom’s third victim. He asked me to pop in to see Jellicoe and find out what progress had been made.’
Out of the corner of his eye, Kit saw a trace of a smile on the otherwise solemn face of the Chief Inspector.
‘Well, Lord Aston,’ replied Bulstrode, ‘You may convey to his lordship that the case is under new management and that we will expedite a conclusion. This has been dragging on long enough.’
‘Bravo, Chief Inspector, that’s the spirit,’ responded Kit enthusiastically. He pumped his fist also, hoping it would not guild the proverbial golden goose. ‘I’m sure Lord Wolf will be delighted to hear that Scotland Yard are finally getting their act together on this case.’ Even Ryan was struggling to stop smiling but for very different reasons from the beaming Bulstrode and well pleased Wellbeloved. ‘You see, Jellicoe, this is exactly the kind of attitude we need if we’re going to capture this despicable villain.’
At this point Kit took out a notebook and said to Bulstrode, ‘Forgive me, but what did you say your name was again? My hearing isn’t quite the same since the War.’ There comes a point in any man’s life when it is necessary to lay it on a bit thick. Kit hoped he hadn’t exceeded the limit, but the look on Jellicoe’s face was slowly becoming beatific.
‘Bulstrode, Samuel Bulstrode and this is Sergeant Alex Wellbeloved.’
‘Thank you, Bulstrode. I shall convey all that I’ve heard to Lord Wolf. He will, no doubt, be pleased to hear that we may soon have some, badly needed, momentum. Take note, Jellicoe, old chap.’
’I shall, sir,’ said Jellicoe, gamely getting into his role as the hapless flat foot.
‘You too, Ryan,’ added Kit, beginning to enjoy himself.
Having said his piece, Kit rose, which forced the policemen to do likewise. He shook hands with the four men and made his way out of the office into the corridor leading to the entrance lobby of the building.
‘Glad someone here appreciates what we do,’ said Bulstrode as the four men returned upstairs.
Ryan remained silent, but he noticed that Jellicoe, a man whose face he was beginning to read well, looking unusually un-solemn. At the door to their office Jellicoe showed him the reason why. In his hand was a piece of paper. The same type of paper as Kit’s notebook. On it were written the following words:
Meet me outside at 7pm.
Chapter 21
There was no sign of Abbott when Ryan arrived at the factory. He deposited his coat in the cloakroom and made his way to the usual spot only to find two other men there. An icy fear gripped him. The prospect of losing a job, even one he didn’t like, made him feel sick. Instantly he regretted agreeing to partner with Abbott and steal the cigarettes.
Rusk saw Ryan’s arrival and followed him as he walked towards the packing area. The look on Ryan’s face was a picture of dismay. It was obvious he thought he was going to be fired. In Rusk’s view he should have been. After a few moments he called over to Ryan to come to the office. There was a look on Rusk’s face that Ryan did not like. If cruelty had a face then Ryan was looking into its cold, black eyes.
‘Johnny wants to see you.’
Ryan followed Rusk away from the factory floor to Johnny Macs’s office. Any explanation on Abbott was clearly going to have to wait until he saw the Ulsterman. As it happened, Johnny Mac smiled when he saw Ryan. The fact that his smile was as scary as his frown because of the two painted teeth was not as reassuring as it might have been. Not that Johnny Mac had any yearning to soothe anyone.
‘Sit down, Ryan,’ said Johnny Mac, ignoring any pleasantries. As usual.
Ryan did as he was bid but remained silent. He was scared, not for himself, not physically. He’d encountered worse than these two men and survived. If it came to it, he’d give a better account of himself than they might guess. The anxiety was the prospect of losing his job. He stayed silent not to appear tough, but because he was sure his voice would betray his fear.
Johnny Mac and Rusk both looked at Ryan for longer than a few moments, doubtless they were trying to unnerve him. Oddly their tactic rebounded. Instead, Ryan began to feel a swell within him. Anger. He’d felt it towards the Germans. He felt it towards the enemy. Right now, the two men before him were the enemy. The anger he felt was cold, not hot. It was his way. It had helped him survive hell. He would survive this whatever they tried to throw at him.
Perhaps the change in Ryan’s self-belief became apparent. Years of looking into men’s eyes seeking to frighten them had made Johnny Mac especially attuned to fear. The anger lit something discernible in Ryan’s eyes. The moment passed, and Johnny Mac began to speak.
‘You’ve been a naughty boy, haven’t you?’
So, they knew.
The rage in him died immediately. He’d been found out. He was guilty, all right. They could fire him and be entirely justified in doing so. Perhaps once more, the Ulsterman saw the change in Ryan, Rusk certainly did.
‘Not so tough now, Ryan, eh?’ taunted Rusk.
In fact, once again, in a blink of an unguarded comment, Ryan’s courage came flooding back. If they thought were going to toy with him like a cat, they had another thing coming. Johnny Mac, as ever, read the change and glanced irritably at Rusk.
‘Abbott was caught selling snout down at the Temple Bar by one of Wag McDonald’s men.’
Ryan’s first thought was: idiot.
Idiot, idiot, idiot. He fe
lt like screaming in frustration. For himself but particularly for Abbott. Of course, he’d heard of Wag McDonald. Who hadn’t heard of the ‘Elephant Boys’ in south London? This was another level of threat for him. He wondered if the two men in front of him were members of this infamous gang. In fact, was the whole operation part of a criminal empire?
‘He says it was your idea,’ continued Johnny Mac.
Ryan’s face betrayed his immediate reaction to this blatant lie from Abbott. He couldn’t bring himself to reply and instead gazed back at the grinning Ulsterman.
‘Did you steal snout?’
Ryan exhaled slowly. He could deny everything, but they wouldn’t believe him. He could admit it and give them grounds to fire him. His mind was a blur of weighing the options.
‘Yes, I stole some snout, but it wasn’t my idea. I went along with it.’
There, he’d admitted it. If they fired him, so be it. Lesson learned. An expensive lesson. If they tried it on with him, he’d give some back. He tensed his muscles waiting for the physical intimidation to begin.
It didn’t.
Johnny Mac was silent for a few moments.
‘Back to work,’ said Johnny Mac finally, ‘Rusk will show you what to do.’ He turned to Rusk and with a slight nod of his head dismissed both.
-
Jellicoe and Ryan exited Scotland Yard ten minutes apart so as not to arouse the suspicion of their colleagues. Jellicoe left first. He walked out of Scotland Yard but saw no car. This made sense as Kit’s Rolls might attract attention. Pushing on ahead, he walked around the corner from the police headquarters.
Ryan followed a similar route and caught sight of Jellicoe standing at the roadside. Almost on the dot of seven, a taxi appeared. Kit caught sight of the two policemen and ordered the taxi to execute a U-turn. The road was quiet, and the driver negotiated this without any difficulty.
Jellicoe and Ryan jumped in and they set off to the Sloane Gardens address given by Kit to the taxi driver. Beside Kit was Harry Miller and introductions were made. After these had been completed, Ryan looked expectantly at Kit but a shake of the head and a glance towards the taxi driver indicated any further discussion would have to wait.
A few minutes later the cab pulled up alongside Kit’s Rolls Royce situated outside the Rosling household. The four men disembarked from the taxi and went to the Rolls. Inside Jellicoe saw a rather pudgy young man finishing a sandwich. The young man looked up a little guiltily at Jellicoe and Ryan. Despite their plain clothes, there was no mistaking them for anything other than policemen.
Further introductions were made. Then Kit asked Alfred, ‘Is the Rosling family all together?’
‘No, young Mr Rosling hasn’t returned, but his aunt and uncle are there and the two ladies. They also had a visitor, but I couldn’t see him. I’m not sure if he’s gone yet.’
Kit nodded and then thanked Alfred for his help. As this was the handover with Harry Miller, Alfred was supposed to take the taxi just vacated by Kit and the men. However, prompted by the arrival of the policemen and the prospect of something happening, he asked to stay.
Kit looked at the rotund young man and smiled, saying, ‘Of course, Alfred. The more the merrier.’ Perhaps there was more to Alfred than met the eye, and there was certainly a lot of him for the eye to meet. Kit explained the situation to the policemen.
‘I’ve brought you here because I’ve reason to believe it may be the target for the next robbery.’
‘How did you arrive at this conclusion, Lord Aston?’ asked Jellicoe.
‘It’s a long story and frankly I can scarcely believe it myself. Suffice to say there are two young women in the house now. Both recently employed. One is my fiancée. She’s working undercover to keep an eye on the second who we believe, might be the young woman you are looking for.’
‘What is her name, sir?’ asked Ryan.
‘Caroline Hadleigh, sergeant,’ replied Kit. As he said this, he saw the colour drain from the young sergeant’s face.
Jellicoe looked astonished also and asked, ‘Are you sure?’
‘Quite sure,’ replied Kit.
‘If you don’t mind me asking, how?’
It was Kit’s turn to look uncomfortable. The question was, entirely reasonable, the answer, scarcely rational.
‘My fiancée and two of her,’ Kit hesitated for a moment as an image of Aunt Agatha and Betty Simpson hove into view, ‘collaborators, suspected Miss Hadleigh.’
This had Jellicoe looking querulous, which Kit had some sympathy with. Ryan remained grim-faced as Kit continued in a manner that would later have him shaking his head in embarrassment, ‘My fiancée has suffragist sympathies.’ He wisely decided to quit this train of thought while he still had some credibility left.
‘So, if I can summarise,’ said Jellicoe, ‘this is a surveillance operation. The house belongs to a Mr Rosling, is that correct?’
The surveillance operation was for Mary’s protection. However, Kit felt it best not to add this ingredient into an already spicy dish.
‘Yes, it’s a gentleman named Herbert Rosling, not sure if you know him. He heads up the London office of the Anglo-American Bank.’
Jellicoe shook his head for a moment, searching his memory. Finally, he looked at Kit and said, ‘There was an American called Rosling at the London Conference on the Middle East.’
‘Same one I believe, according to Mary. Not sure if that makes any difference, as the thief may be after Mrs Rosling’s rather large diamond necklace.’
Ryan seemed to wake up from a daze at this point and asked Kit, ‘You say, “thief”, do you mean Miss Hadleigh, sir?’
‘I don’t think we can be sure, sergeant. There may be innocent reasons why she has taken a position in this house, although her motives for doing so in disguise are, to say the least, unclear. It certainly looks suspicious.’
Ryan nodded in agreement. It was damned suspicious, he thought. His mind burned with possibilities: fear and no little anger making an unpleasant prism with which to refract the evidence.
Jellicoe quizzed Kit a little more on Rosling but it was clear there was not much more to add to the story. Kit decided to avoid mention of his earlier encounter with the younger American. It was clear to Kit while he was talking to the two policemen that each seemed troubled by the revelations. There could be any number of explanations and Kit felt sure it was beyond merely professional embarrassment at missing a potential lead. Finally, Jellicoe appeared to reach a decision which explained the sense of foreboding on his face.
‘I think we must share this with Bulstrode and Wellbeloved. Without wishing to offend sir, this requires a proper police surveillance.’
‘Sir,’ replied Ryan, clearly agitated, ‘They’ll just bring her in, and you know their methods.’
‘I’m all too aware of their methods, sergeant,’ said Jellicoe resignedly, ‘But for better or worse, they are working with us now.
Kit looked at both policemen. He wasn’t sure if he should feel relieved that the matter would be taken out of Mary’s hands, worried that she would be angry at such an event or, more obliquely, a concern about the arrival of the two new policemen, who were clearly disliked, and how they would progress matters. His thoughts were broken by Jellicoe who looked at Ryan and suggested, ‘I think you should stay here, and I will return to Scotland Yard.’
Ryan was more than happy to stay but he could not hide his displeasure at the steps proposed by the Chief Inspector. After Jellicoe had left to find a taxi, Kit looked at the young sergeant.
‘I’m curious, but was Miss Hadleigh questioned before?’
‘Yes, sir,’ replied Ryan. Kit said nothing, so Ryan continued, ‘I questioned her after the first jewel robbery when it was apparent the thief was using the Phantom’s calling card.’
‘Was this to find out if some cards had not been found from the original investigation?’
‘Exactly, sir,’ responded Ryan, ‘The original printer of the cards is dead now, as you k
now, and the business was closed down. I think there is a haberdasher there now. According to the Chief Inspector, no other cards were found when the premises were searched after the first investigation.’
‘When did the printer die?’
‘In 1915, sir. Cancer apparently.’
Kit mused on this for a moment and said, ‘Still, there was time after the investigation finished to print new cards, if someone required them.’
‘Indeed, sir, but why would someone do that? And why wait five years? We have the Phantom locked up.’
‘Unless it really is his daughter, sergeant. I have the sense you don’t think so.’
Kit’s intuition, unlike his nine iron, rarely missed the target. Right now, Sergeant Ryan was all too convinced that his girl was the Phantom. His heart began to thump against his chest like a drum. The car was cold, but he felt sweat tickle his forehead as he became gripped by a mixture of fear and disappointment. He had to fight back an overpowering urge: the desire to run into the house and warn Caroline.
Aware that Kit was looking at him strangely he answered, ‘No, Lord Aston, I don’t think Caroline’s a thief but, I agree, it’s very strange.’ Regaining his composure, he added, ‘Perhaps we need to go back to the original Phantom investigation. Who else might have seen the calling cards?’
Ryan’s words seemed to startle Kit, but the highly unusual detective nodded in agreement after a few moments, ‘It’s a good point, sergeant. The Chief Inspector says they were never made public. However, this doesn’t mean the designs couldn’t have leaked for a whole host of reasons. The question is, who would have access to see the cards, the wherewithal to organise these robberies and the capability to execute them?’
In the front seat, Harry Miller and Alfred sat listening in fascination for entirely different reasons. The idea of a female thief seemed extraordinary to Miller but then, as he reflected on the War, women had proven themselves to be every bit as good as men in filling in for those who had gone off to fight.