Stabbing Set with Sapphires

by L. A. Nisula

  “Not that I know of. Not without damaging the key, at least.”

  “Was it in your possession the whole time?”

  “I don’t know. I think the coat was in the room, but I never went through the pockets.”

  He dropped the key chain on the bedside table. “Is there anything else you think I should know?”

  “Like what?”

  “If I had known what, I would have asked about it specifically.”

  “Then no, nothing else.”

  “Very well. I will send a constable over to your flat to look around. I will also have him hire a locksmith to change your locks just in case they made copies of these keys. If your landlady doesn’t object.”

  “Miss Pimly’s a dear. I’m sure it will be fine.”

  “Right. Then I will have some more questions for you in the morning.”

  “Something to look forward to,” Miss Crawford muttered.

  Inspector Wainwright ignored that and left.

  I slid my chair closer to the bed. “Was there anything else you can think of that you don’t want to tell him? I could slip it into conversation.”

  She smiled. “Many things, all of which would get you in trouble.”

  “Then I’ll let you get some rest.”

  “Do you think they told Miss Pimly I’m all right?”

  “I’ll ask on my way out.”

  Miss Crawford took the notepad by the bed and wrote down a telephone number. “If they haven’t, could you ask someone to telephone her here?”

  “Of course. And I’ll tell everyone at Kleinmans’ in the morning. I was going there anyway.”

  I left Miss Crawford trying to get comfortable and found the constable who had summoned me sitting in the waiting area. I gave him Miss Pimly’s telephone number, and he promised to see she was notified at once and asked if I wanted an escort home. I turned down the offer and left for my flat.

  Chapter 15

  FINDING THAT MISS CRAWFORD was alive and well took most of my evening, so I managed to oversleep the next morning and by the time I got to Kleinman and Company, everyone was standing outside. Inspector Wainwright gave me a look of long-suffering patience; of course he’d gotten here bright and early. Kate Ferris was giving me a look of bemused irritation; I suspected she was the one who made them wait for me. Miss Kleinman gave both of them her headmistress stare then turned to me and said, “Miss Pengear, the inspector told us about your identification of Miss Crawford last night. Did she seem well?”

  I appreciated her pointing out that I had a perfectly legitimate excuse for being late. “She did when I left her. Tired, of course. The doctor thinks she’ll be able to go home today.”

  “That is good news. Shall we begin the experiment?”

  Kate turned to Inspector Wainwright. “You brought it?”

  He didn’t answer her, but he did put the box he was carrying down by her feet.

  “Excellent. Now I assume you are willing to stipulate that this is a true cast of Miss Kleinman’s hand.”

  “I am,” he muttered.

  “Then let’s try it. You have the key?”

  Miss Kleinman pulled out her key and slid it into the lock. Kate slid the cast of the hand in place. Miss Kleinman turned the key and tried the knob. “Nothing.”

  Kate shifted the position of the hand. “Keep trying while I move this around. Maybe there’s a sweet spot we can find.”

  But there wasn’t. They tried for almost five minutes before Miss Kleinman turned to back to us. “Would you like to try, Inspector?”

  He stepped forward and took the key from Miss Kleinman. “Move it around slowly.”

  “I know what I’m doing,” Kate snapped, but she did move the hand around slowly.

  Inspector Wainwright struggled for a little while, then handed the key back to Miss Kleinman and took the plaster hand from Kate. He tried moving it around in the slot while Miss Kleinman tried the key. They kept at it until we heard the sound of cracking plaster. Inspector Wainwright pulled out the cast, which was now missing two fingers. The fingers fell out and landed on the cobblestones of the yard, shattering instantly.

  “Convinced?” I asked.

  He turned to Miss Kleinman. “Open it.”

  Kate grabbed a brush out of her toolbox. “Just a minute. We don’t want to jam the gears.”

  Inspector Wainwright kept glaring but didn’t say anything as she swept out the plaster dust. “All right.”

  Miss Kleinman slid her key into the lock then her hand into the slot. The key turned easily and the door swung open.

  “Convinced?” I asked again.

  Inspector Wainwright snorted and walked away.

  The other two turned to me.

  “For him, that was encouraging.”

  “Well, I’m convinced,” Miss Kleinman said. “But what does it mean? How did they get in? I’m afraid I was assuming her key was the reason Miss Crawford was taken.”

  I thought back to the plaster found under her nails. I had thought it was connected too. “Maybe it was, so we would think it was for her key,” I suggested. “But that would mean it was someone with access to a key of their own and who didn’t want us to know they had it.”

  Miss Kleinman sighed. “So it comes back to us again. You’re quite certain the plaster cast wouldn’t have worked?”

  Kate shook her head. “Not possible. It’s not flexible enough. The pins inside are calibrated to a certain hand, and when it was set, it took into account how hard someone would press and the natural way the finger forms around the underside of the pin. I bet when you started, you had a lot of trouble with people not putting their hands in with the same pressure as that did when it was calibrated.”

  “We did, some more than others.” Miss Kleinman gestured for us to go inside and led the way to the lounge. “If it wouldn’t be plaster for the cast itself, maybe they were making a mold for another substance. Is there anything flexible that could work? Some kind of new material that the police don’t know about?”

  Kate shrugged. “I can ask around, but nothing I can think of off the top of my head. Why? Do you want it to be someone else?”

  “Very much so. I’d rather have a stranger who managed to defeat our alarm be our killer, not someone in my employ.”

  We were quite a gloomy group that sat down in the lounge. Miss Henderson and Miss Eaton arrived soon after we had settled in. Miss Kleinman introduced Kate, telling them she was there to see to the lock but nothing more, and giving them the good news about Miss Crawford. Miss Eaton went to put her things in the cloakroom then went to the sales floor while Miss Henderson fiddled with the kettle and brought us all tea. “There aren’t any more biscuits. The Scotland Yard men ate the last of them.”

  I rather suspected we had eaten them during one of our morning crises, and I certainly didn’t remember seeing the constables eating any them, but I just nodded and took my cup.

  Kate put two spoons of sugar in her cup. When Miss Henderson went to take her things to the cloakroom and, presumably, sneak a cigarette since I saw her case come out, Kate leaned in to murmur, “There hasn’t been another robbery since. That should mean something.”

  I watched her put two more spoonfuls in her cup as I answered, “I suppose it could mean Mr. Morris was their way in. Or that the killing scared them. Or that the Heart of Night was what they were after all along.”

  “Then why the other robberies?” Miss Kleinman asked.

  “Maybe if we figure that out, we’ll know what happened.” I stared at my cup, trying to think of another avenue to explore.

  Miss Kleinman finished her tea and rinsed out the cup. “I’ll telephone Mr. Tolland and tell him about the results of the experiment. Hopefully, that will be enough for him.”

  Kate brought her cup to the sink. “I can write up my notes and leave them with Cassie, if you like. I’ll make them look nice and formal.”

  “Thank you, that might help. Miss Pengear, I don’t think we’ll need any typing today
. I’ll get word to you if he’s coming tomorrow.”

  I took that as a dismissal, so I washed out my cup and left through the front of the shop with Kate as Miss Eaton was going back to the lounge. We split up in the Underground station, and Kate promised to tidy up her notes and send them to me that evening.

  ~ * ~ * ~

  I spent the Underground trip back to Paddington Street trying to come up with another area to investigate. I’d been planning to visit Miss Eaton at home, but she was at the shop, and I couldn’t count on Inspector Wainwright showing up and sending her home in tears. Well, I probably could count on it happening, but not at a time that would be convenient for me. I was still thinking of other avenues to explore when I walked into the foyer of my building and found a thick packet addressed to me from Oxford, containing a six-shilling deposit and a handwritten paper on ancient Greek history to be typed up, invoice to be sent by return post. It was a distraction, at least, and I could work on it until Miss Eaton would have made her way home. I brought it up to my flat to start on it.

  I had just finished typing the second page when I heard knocking at my door. I recognized it as Mrs. Albright and hurried to answer.

  She didn’t wait for me to greet her. “Telephone for you, Cassie. He said his name was Mr. Kleinman. Isn’t that where the murder was?”

  “That’s right.” I grabbed my key from its hook by the door and followed her to the telephone cabinet in the front hall.

  “He sounds upset, more so than someone who found a body a couple days ago,” she whispered as I picked up the receiver. As my landlady, Mrs. Albright had become quite accustomed to how people who had recently found bodies ought to sound, so it was with some trepidation that I said, “Hello?”

  “Miss Pengear? I wasn’t sure who to call. I’m not sure what to do. And you do know people, so I thought you might be able to talk some sense into him. It’s just ridiculous.”

  “What is ridiculous, Mr. Kleinman?”

  “They’ve arrested Deborah.”

  That was ridiculous. “Did Inspector Wainwright say what evidence he had?”

  “How could he have evidence? She’s innocent. I thought you...”

  I cut him off before he said something that made me not want to help. “He has to have some basis for arresting her, even if it's wrong. I’ll go down to Scotland Yard and try to straighten this out. Did he say anything?”

  “He told her she could remain silent. Um...”

  I realized I would get nothing useful out of him. “I’m leaving now. The best thing you can do is contact your solicitor and get someone to represent her.”

  He floundered a little while longer. When I was certain he had nothing helpful to contribute, I hung the phone up and went back upstairs to get my hat and coat.

  ~ * ~ * ~

  Inspector Wainwright did not stand when I entered his office. “Is there any chance you’re coming to see me about a lost dog?”

  “Why on earth did you arrest Miss Kleinman?”

  “Getting right to the point then, are we? Good, that’s always a sure sign you’re not investigating anything.” He still hadn’t looked up from his papers.

  I sat down in the one of the chairs across from his desk. “Miss Kleinman would be the last person on my list of suspects.”

  “Even after yourself? I am impressed.”

  “Well, I already know I didn’t do it, so I wouldn’t be on my list, now would I? What proof do you have against her?”

  “And why do I need to tell you that?” I was getting ready to argue when he went on. “But she did lie about the weapon.”

  If he was telling me, he must have had something concrete, or believed he did. “You’re certain?”

  “She said she didn’t know where it was from, but it was the paper knife from the set on her desk. I find it hard to believe she didn’t recognize it.”

  Not a bad clue, but shakeable. “And the glass? How are you explaining that?”

  “He caught her stealing it; she told him it was to make a copy and asked him to start on it. While he was working, she killed him. Or maybe they were in on it together, and she wanted to get rid of her witness.”

  Why did Wainwright have to be so logical? He was making sense, even though I knew it couldn’t be right. “Why would Miss Kleinman steal from her own store? If she got away with it, the scandal of losing the Heart of Night would be enough to put them out of business.”

  “Perhaps that’s what she wants. An excuse to get out of a family business that was taking all of her time, and enough money to start over somewhere else. Even if she never sells the necklace, her share of the insurance money would be enough to live comfortably in Italy or the south of France. And I seem to recall being told she was most insistent on their taking out the insurance on the piece.”

  “Because she’s the accountant for the store and knew what the loss of it would cost them. Anyway, if they hadn’t taken out insurance on it, you’d be saying how foolish they were. Besides, the money will go to Lady Suffolk to replace the necklace, not to her.”

  “Have you seen the policy? The actual policy, not the descriptions.”

  “No, and I’m quite certain you haven’t either. If there was something there to support your case, you wouldn’t bring it up because you know I’d find a way to prove it meant nothing.”

  Inspector Wainwright looked up. “Unless there is something so I’m trying to encourage you to look somewhere else, knowing that would be your reaction.”

  “You’re impossible, you know that, right?”

  “Did you have something constructive to discuss?”

  “If I did, I wouldn’t waste my time on you.” I grabbed up my handbag and flounced out of the room, although the full drama of my exit was lost on Inspector Wainwright; he had gone back to studying his paperwork.

  ~ * ~ * ~

  Upon leaving Scotland Yard, I went directly to a small cafeteria nearby and ordered a pot of tea and a slice of sponge cake then settled in near the window so I could stare at the street and think.

  From a logical point of view, Miss Kleinman was not a bad suspect. She could get past the locks; she had insisted on the insurance; and she had expressed if not discontent, then at least some irritation at being stuck in the family business. But I liked Miss Kleinman; that was the trouble. Not that I thought we’d be close friends after this job, but I understood her type, and we seemed to get along. So I didn’t want her to be the mastermind of this. And I didn't think she was. She was staying out of loyalty to her brother, I was sure, and robbing the store would hurt him as badly as her.

  But Inspector Wainwright had an interesting theory, which, unfortunately, was fitting the facts rather nicely. I sighed and paid the check. There was one way to break his theory, of course: find some facts that didn’t fit it. The best place to start was the shop. At least I could find out the details of Miss Kleinman’s arrest.

  ~ * ~ * ~

  Kleinman and Co. was still open when I got there, but inside was very subdued. Miss Peters was behind the counter with Mr. Garver, both looking strained. Mr. Garver was the first to notice me. “So you’ve heard? Is that why you’re here?”

  I nodded. “Mr. Kleinman telephoned.”

  “Do you think you’ll be able to help her?” Miss Peters asked.

  “I hope so. Mr. Kleinman wasn’t very clear about what actually happened.”

  They took the hint. Mr. Garver leaned in. “I’ll watch the till. I wasn’t here when it happened.”

  Miss Peters nodded and led me into the back. “It was that inspector, of course. He came in while Mr. Garver was at lunch and asked to see Miss Kleinman. Well, I thought it was because of the test on the lock you’d done this morning, so of course I let him into the back. I didn’t think anything of it until I heard raised voices, so naturally I went to have a listen at the door, and I heard Inspector Wainwright say they had proven it was an inside job, and she was the one who had done it. And she was insisting that it was nonsense. And Mr. Kle
inman was calling it an outrage and blathering on about how he’d make certain the superiors knew what was going on, although I don’t think even he knew what he meant by that. Then they led her out through the front door, no less. At least we didn’t have any customers at the time.”

  “Who else was here?”

  “Today is Miss Henderson’s day off. Miss Crawford is still recovering. Miss Eaton was supposed to be here, but she disappeared around lunchtime. We think she saw the inspector coming and ran out. And Miss Fairfield is upstairs trying to do some of the work Mr. Morris left and the repairs she has to do anyway, but she had gone to lunch when it happened too. Mr. Garver was late getting back, so I told her I could handle the shop since it was empty, and she didn’t need to wait for him. You’ll want to see where it happened, of course,” Miss Peters said, steering me towards the offices.

  “Of course.” It seemed as good a thing to do as anything else.

  As we approached Miss Kleinman’s office, Mr. Garver leaned around the door to the back hallway and waved.

  “I think he needs me.”

  “You’d better go, then. I can search the office myself.”

  Miss Kleinman’s office was just as it had been the last time I’d been there, except the papers on her desk were scattered as if she’d knocked them over in surprise. I looked them over, but it seemed to involve nothing more incriminating than payroll. I hoped Mr. Kleinman would know if he was supposed to step in and finish it.

  There didn’t seem to be anything for me to learn from the office, so I went back into the hallway intending to see if I could get anything useful out of Mr. Kleinman in person. When I got to his office door, it was partly closed, and I could hear him speaking inside. The conversation was very one-sided, so I assumed he was on the telephone. It wasn’t that I was listening in on his conversation, just seeing if I would be able to speak to him soon. The snatches of conversation I could hear sounded like he was talking to someone in the legal profession, which really was the most helpful thing for Miss Kleinman, so I backed away from the door and almost collided with Miss Fairfield coming from the direction of the vault room. She had a little furrow between her brows and a distracted look that made me think she was trying to puzzle something out. I could see the crime scene barricades were still blocking the way, so she couldn’t have been inside. She could have been looking at the scene from the door, though. “Is something bothering you, Miss Fairfield?”