Jim amused himself looking at the pictures on the wall for a few moments before there was a thunderous pounding of feet on the stairs and a small, blonde whirlwind stormed down the stairs and with cries of, ‘Uncle Jim! Uncle Jim!’ flung herself into his arms. Despite being strong he still had to take a couple of paces back to absorb the shock.
‘Easy there, easy,’ he told her. ‘You’re filling out now and not so little as you used to be. You’re turning into quite a handful.’ He remembered when he had first seen her, so pale and thin but with these big, blue eyes that just cried out for someone to help her. So he had done.
He had taken her away from her old Grandmother who was trying to sell her off to the highest bidder, and brought her to this place where she could be properly looked after. Now that she was eating regularly and not being mistreated, she was at last beginning to look like a girl of her age should look.
When he’d first found her and brought her to the orphanage, he fully expected that that would be the last time he saw her, but for some reason he couldn’t explain, he had come back to visit her to make sure she was doing all right. Then he had got into the habit of calling on her regularly and they both came to rely on these visits and look forward to them. He had become quite fond of the child and she of him, as witnessed by her calling him ‘Uncle Jim’. Of course there was the added attraction of the lovely Angela Phipps, a nurse at the orphanage, who had also taken to Sarah and looked out for her. The three of them had got into the habit of taking trips out for the day, when Jim was in town.
Little Sarah hugged him tightly and he looked over her shoulder to see Nurse Phipps follow her down the stairs at a more sedate pace.
‘Good morning, Mr. Darby,’ she said with a smile. ‘On time as usual, your punctuality is to be commended.’
He put Sarah down and doffed his hat to Nurse Phipps. ‘I wouldn’t dare disappoint Miss Bowen, or yourself. It would be more than I could bear.’
‘Where are we going today, Uncle Jim?’ asked Sarah. Even though he was no relation to her, she had gotten into the habit of calling him ‘Uncle Jim’ when he came to visit or take her out on trips. According to Nurse Phipps it was a normal thing for orphans to invent a relationship with somebody, to avoid feeling alone in the world. (Jim had never told anyone at the orphanage about the abusive Grandmother, and cautioned Sarah never to do so either, for fear of being sent back to her.)
‘That’s up to Nurse Phipps you see. She only gets one day off a week and she spends it with us, whereas we can go out anytime we like. So we ought to let her decide, it’s only fair.’ Jim didn’t know how things usually worked at the orphanage but he had a special agreement with Dr. Barnato. In exchange for regular, generous donations to the orphanage’s funds, he was allowed to take Sarah on days out whenever he liked.
‘Yes, I suppose that’s fair,’ agreed Sarah, a bit disappointed. ‘Where would you like to go, Nurse Phipps?’
‘I’m not sure,’ she replied. ‘What about you, Mr. Darby?’
He looked down at Sarah and pulled a face. ‘I bet Nurse Phipps wants to go to art galleries and look at boring old pictures but I’d like to go to the Natural History Museum and look at dinosaurs!’
‘Dinosaurs? Yeah! Dinosaurs,’ agreed Sarah. (She’d seen them in books but didn’t really understand what they were, but what the heck? They sounded exciting!)
‘Natural History Museum it is then,’ said Nurse Phipps. ‘Lead on.’
‘And then we’ll have lunch in the park, I’ve brought a hamper, and after that we’ll just see what comes up.’ He led them outside and helped Nurse Phipps into the carriage and then helped Sarah climb up to sit beside Bob. She had met him several times before so wasn’t in the least nervous at sitting beside him. He had even let her help him with the horse from time to time.
‘Can you take us to the Natural History Museum, please Bob?’
‘Sure thing Mr. Darby,’ and with a crack of his whip, they were off.
***
Jim poured himself and Nurse Phipps another glass of wine and lit a cigarette. Around them lay the remains of a hefty picnic that the four of them had enjoyed in the park. Bob and Sarah were down at the river, feeding the ducks some leftover bread.
‘You haven’t been around for a while, Jim,’ said Nurse Phipps.
‘No, sorry Angela, I’ve had a spot of business to take care of,’ he said, rather than hurt her feelings by admitting he had been seeing someone else in the meantime.
‘Ah, your mysterious business, again. It’s not legal is it?’
‘Well, perhaps not always strictly legal but I assure you it’s always the right thing morally. And I make sure nobody ever gets hurt that doesn’t deserve it.’
‘I should have nothing to do with you but you’re so kind to Sarah and to me. Why is that? Are you sure she’s not your child?’
‘Nope. I give you my word on that. It was just ... when I was her age I was stuck on my own in the workhouse. My father had left my mother and me, which was how we got into the workhouse in the first place, and then my mother went and died, so I was left there on my own. I was in a bit of a dark place, I can tell you. But I escaped the workhouse and went and made my fortune in the world.
‘Then one day I came across Sarah and she seemed to be in the same place as I’d been. In a deep hole with no way out. So I helped her. I figured the best thing for her was to bring her to a place like yours, where she could be properly looked after and not exploited by anyone. And now she has a chance in the world.’
‘Sorry to disappoint you but perhaps not as big a chance as you might think,’ said Angela.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, I’m afraid not all our children get adopted by nice families and live happily ever after. The children can only live in the orphanage until they are sixteen and then they must move out. Those that haven’t been adopted have to go out and find a job and most of them just end up in service as a scullery maid or a cook’s assistant. It’s not that glamorous a life.’
‘But Sarah has got me looking out for her. Even if she doesn’t get adopted I’ll always be around.’
‘Will you? Will you really? You’ve just admitted that your business interests aren’t strictly legal. What if you get caught one of these days and end up doing ‘porridge’, or even worse get hanged for something. Where will Sarah be then, eh? Think on that. Now go and feed the ducks with Sarah, it’s you she’s meant to be spending the day with, not Bob.’
‘All right, I’m going,’ he agreed good naturedly and went down to the river but what Angela Phipps had said bore into him and he couldn’t get it out of his mind for the rest of the day.
***
Jim was just finishing his breakfast when the doorbell rang. He went over to the window and peered through the net curtain to see who it was. Damn! It was that interfering busy-body Inspector Corner from Caledonia Yard. Jim had met him previously when he’d had the infernal cheek to suspect Jim of carrying out a burglary (although to be fair, Jim had actually committed the burglary). But as he couldn’t prove anything, he had brought no charges and Jim had been free to carry on with his life. Corner was accompanied by a uniformed constable who Jim recognised from their last visit. What was his name? thought Jim. Ah yes, Peabody.
Jim went to the front door and opened it to him. ‘Ah ... I do believe it’s “Corner of the Yard!” ’ he exclaimed cheerfully, knowing that nick-name would annoy him. ‘How can I help you? Selling tickets for the Policeman’s Ball are we? I’ll take two.’
Inspector Herbert Corner coloured slightly and his toothbrush moustache bristled in annoyance. ‘No sir, no tickets, I’d like to ask you a few questions if I may?’
‘Well, in that case you’d better come in I suppose,’ Jim replied and ushered him and the constable into the drawing room. At one point the inspector was standing directly between Jim and the constable, and as they were both over six feet tall, they looked at each other over his head and smiled. Inspector Corner was o
nly half an inch over the regulation height for admission to the force, five feet eight inches, and the first time they’d met Jim had delighted in poking fun at him for that.
‘Inspector, have you grown taller?’
‘No sir, I’m just the same height I was the last time we met.’
‘It’s just that you seem, I don’t know, somehow more imposing.’
Constable Peabody saw the back of Corner’s neck getting redder.
‘We can dispense with the games, Mr. Darby, I’m sure we both have things that we need to be doing elsewhere,’ Corner told Jim. ‘Now, can we get to business?’
Jim waved the inspector to a seat on the sofa opposite his and the constable took his usual position, standing by the door. ‘Glad to see you remember me, sir. This, as I’m sure you’ll also remember, is Constable Peabody.’
Jim nodded to Peabody and then asked, ‘Coffee anyone?’
Inspector Corner said no and Jim could see the constable’s face drop, so he poured him a cup anyway and as Corner got his notebook out of his pocket, Jim mimed putting milk and sugar into the cup, to which the constable nodded. As Corner began to speak to Jim, he walked away and handed the cup to the constable. The inspector gave Peabody a dirty look but the constable managed not to meet his eye.
Jim sat down on his sofa, poured himself a cup of coffee and then imperiously waved to the inspector to begin.
Corner froze for a moment and his moustache waggled and then he flipped his notebook open and began. ‘Are you acquainted with the Honourable Fiona Hetheringham?’
‘Indeed I am, we’re quite good friends.’
‘And were you at the ball to celebrate her birthday last month, held at her country home ...’ he consulted his notebook, ‘... on the 25th?’
‘Yes I was, is this about the robbery?’
‘And what do you know about the robbery?’
‘I was at Hetheringham Manor when it happened. I was staying at the house overnight because of the ball, so I was there next morning when the theft was discovered. The safe had been broken into and the Hetheringham Necklace was taken. But I explained all this to the local detective, how come Caledonia Yard is involved?’
‘Well, on a crime this serious it was felt that it was a little out of the league of the local constabulary, so they asked for help from the Yard. The case was passed to us and so we are re-interviewing all the suspects.’
‘Err ... don’t you mean “all the witnesses”?’ asked Jim.
‘Mr. Darby, until we have caught the culprit everyone is a suspect.’
‘Including Fiona?’
‘Yes.’
‘Including Lady Matilda?’
‘Yes ... no! I mean, well, it’s unlikely to be her, but at this stage we can’t rule anything out. It may be an insurance scam after all.’
Oh dear, thought Jim. I constantly underestimate this copper; I shall have to be on my guard. ‘And of course that makes me one as well, I suppose?’
‘Well, I must admit the hairs on the back of my neck did prickle a bit when I saw your name on the list of people to be interviewed. That little caper you were involved in some time back at Bachman’s, a break-in over the roof, through a skylight, ransack a safe. Well it’s not a million miles away from how this job was carried out, is it? It certainly fits your Modus Operandi as we say, your way of doing things, doesn’t it?’
Jim put down his coffee cup and keeping his cool, told him calmly, ‘Listen Inspector. I wasn’t involved in any caper at Bachman’s, you found no evidence of any involvement in that and no charges were brought, remember? I don’t have a Modus Operandi. Get it?’
‘No evidence was found to implicate you. Doesn’t mean you didn’t do it, though.’
‘Well, this is Albion. Innocent until proven guilty. Don’t forget that, Inspector.’
Corner held his gaze for a few seconds. ‘Of course not, sir. My apologies.’
‘Anyway, I have an alibi, we all do. At the time the robbery was taking place Lady Matilda was giving a speech and we were all there. It must have been an outsider that did the job.’
‘And just how exactly do you know what time the robbery took place, if I may ask?’
‘Well it’s easy ... the broken clock, I saw it myself. It had stopped just before nine o’clock. And that was the time Lady Matilda and Fiona were standing in front of all the invited guests giving Fiona her presents. And I was standing right alongside them, the whole room saw me.’
‘Ah yes, the broken clock,’ said Corner. ‘Awfully convenient that wasn’t it? And strange that even though there was a footman standing right outside the study door all evening, he never heard the clock fall off the sideboard and smash. Odd that, don’t you think?’
‘I hadn’t really thought about it.’
‘Well I have and I found it suspicious, so I’ve taken it to a clockmaker to have it inspected. I’m just waiting on his report. Rest assured I shall be looking into it closely. Did you leave the house at all that night, for any reason?’
‘Err ... yes. Fiona and I took a walk around the grounds, the excitement of the ball was all getting a bit too much for her and she needed some fresh air to calm herself down. You know how women can be.’
‘And what time was that, sir?’
‘I’m not sure ... about ten o’clock, maybe.’
‘And how long were you outside.’
‘Probably about half an hour.’
‘And did you see anything while you were outside? Notice anything about the house or see anyone unusual around.’
‘Sorry, no. It was night time, it was dark.’
Inspector Corner stood up abruptly. ‘Well, I think I have all I need from you for the moment.’ He closed his notebook and put it away.
‘Oh,’ said Jim, surprised. ‘Is that all?’
‘Yes, sir. Like I said, we’re re-interviewing everyone that was at the ball. It’s just routine. Good day. We’ll see ourselves out.’
Jim saw them to the door anyway, he didn’t want them lingering in the hall while they had a look around. He was getting to be a dangerous one that Inspector Corner. Jim would have to watch out for him.
***
‘Mr. Darby, so good to see you,’ said Mr. Roper, Jim’s solicitor. ‘I wasn’t expecting you. Is this a social call or do you have some business for me?’
‘I’d like to discuss some business with you, if you’ve got time,’ replied Jim.
‘Always got time for you Mr. Darby and business or not, that shouldn’t dissuade us from enjoying a glass of brandy while we discuss it, what do you say?’
Well, it was after lunch, why not? ‘Yes I’ll have a glass of brandy with you.’
‘Splendid, splendid,’ said Mr. Roper and did the honours. He brought the glasses to a small table in front of the fireplace and they both settled into two comfortable armchairs. Mr. Roper offered Jim a cigar but Jim preferred to have one of his own cigarettes.
‘Now then,’ said Mr. Roper. ‘What can I do for you?’
Jim sipped his brandy while he gathered his thoughts. ‘You’ve been my solicitor for many years now and, between ourselves, are fully aware of how I conduct my life. Including the less ... legal parts.’
‘Yes but I’m also aware of the good works you do for charity. From what I’ve seen most, if not all, of your ‘ill-gotten gains’ go to good causes, and that dear sir is why I still represent you. I can’t pretend to understand your motivations but I do acknowledge that what you do ... you do for the greater good.’ He raised his brandy glass and said, ‘I salute you, sir.’
Jim was slightly abashed at such praise, especially from the usually reserved Mr. Roper. Perhaps this wasn’t the first brandy he had drunk today. ‘Thank you. That’s very kind of you to say so. Now then, to the reason I’ve called today. It was pointed out to me recently that, despite all the good intentions in my endeavours, I do sometimes cross the line when it comes to the law, and also in my travels I occasionally come across some fairly dubious characters. I
t’s not outside the bounds of possibility that one day I will either be arrested and imprisoned, or even worse, fall foul of one of those villainous types and lose my life.’
‘Oh heaven forbid,’ said Mr. Roper. ‘That would be a sad day for us all.’
‘Especially me,’ replied Jim. ‘Nevertheless, I have to face that possibility and plan for it. I have drawn up a list of legal steps I would you to take on my behalf, all the details are here.’ He withdrew an envelope from his jacket pocket and placed it on the arm of Mr. Roper’s chair. ‘If you pour me another glass of this fine brandy, I will talk you through what I would like you to do, so there is no misunderstanding.’
Mr. Roper finished his own brandy and got them both refills. ‘Please proceed, Mr. Darby.’
‘I want you to draw me up a new will. There is a young girl aged around ten years old who resides at Dr. Barnato’s orphanage, named Sarah Bowen. I want to make her my heir. After a few dispersals to friends that are already listed in the existing will and a few new ones in that envelope, I want the rest of my fortune to go to her. Clear?’
‘If you’ll forgive the impertinence, might she be a young Miss Darby?’
‘No nothing at all like that, she’s not even a blood relative. It’s just that I have made myself responsible for her welfare and as I said earlier, if something were to happen to me I want to make sure that she is looked after. Besides I have no one else to leave the money to.’
‘Very well. Is that all?’
‘No. I want you to begin proceedings to make Sarah Bowen my ward. At the moment there is a Grandmother living but she gave up all rights to the child and doesn’t even know or care if she’s dead or alive. So I don’t think we’ll have any problems with her unless she gets to hear about it, in which case we’ll buy her off. But I don’t think that she is the type to read about it in the Court Gazette, so I think we’re probably quite safe on that score.’
‘Your ward you say? That’s incredibly generous of you. Might one wonder why she is so deserving of your benevolence?’
The Londum Omnibus Volume Two (The Londum Series Book 12) Page 16