by L. A. Nisula
“About what?” Inspector Wainwright asked.
She burst into tears again.
As I tightened my grip on her hand, I glared at him. “Just tell us about it, in your own time.”
“The necklace. I told him about Lady Suffolk’s necklace. I didn’t know any better. He kept insisting that we needed money before we could marry, but I never thought he would...” She started sobbing again.
Inspector Wainwright sat with his pen above the page and gave me a look that clearly said “get her talking again.”
“What do you think he did?”
“Tried to steal the necklace. Make a copy to replace it. He knew all the suppliers to get the materials. And then there must have been someone to help him. He couldn’t have kidnapped Miss Crawford on his own. She would have known him. She would have told us. He had to have help. And that must be who killed him.”
Inspector Wainwright’s pen moved quickly across the page. “So you’re contending that Mr. Morris had planned to steal the necklace with a partner by replacing it with a replica, and it is the partner who kidnapped Miss Crawford and killed him?”
“Yes,” she sobbed.
I glared at Inspector Wainwright again. He held his hands out, offering me the witness now that he’d gotten her in a state again.
“Why do you think he was involved with the robbery at all? Miss Peters seemed to think he was standing up to the thief.”
“He wouldn’t. And why would he have been there after dark if he wasn’t in on it with them? Why was he there at all? Besides, you didn’t know him. He needed money. He always needed money. And he―he lied to me.” She started to sob again.
Inspector Wainwright rolled his eyes. I gave him my best governess glare. He waved his hand to the side, showing me that he was still leaving this to me even if he was annoyed by the whole thing.
I patted Miss Eaton’s back awkwardly and gave her a moment to regain her composure. “What did he lie about?”
She went through a new round of sobbing and eventually I managed to get her to say, “His family.”
Inspector Wainwright wrote something very slowly in his notebook, like he wanted to fill the time before the next bit of information.
“What about his family?”
She sat up, and I pulled my hand back. She dabbed at her eyes and seemed a little better. “He lied about his family. He told me they were the reason we couldn’t get married, but after he―died, I found out that he doesn’t have―didn’t have any family. Not the objecting kind. Just some cousins down in Oxford that he never really talked to. So there was never any reason for us to―to wait.” She burst into tears again.
Inspector Wainwright closed his eyes. I could sympathize, although I would never tell him that. There was only so much sobbing a person could take. But it was inching us towards the solution to the case, at least I hoped it was. I looked around Inspector Wainwright’s office until I spotted the tea I’d been preparing for him. I stared at the cup then glared at Inspector Wainwright until he figured it out and brought the cup to Miss Eaton. I took the tea from him and coaxed Miss Eaton into drinking it.
When she seemed more composed, I started the harder questions. “Now, do you have any idea who he might have gotten to help him?”
She shook her head. “None of the friends he introduced me to.”
“Inspector Wainwright will go and search his apartment again. What should he be looking for?”
“He kept some papers in a flower pot. Under the pot, between it and the planter. I never knew what they were. He said jewelry designs, but he had a notebook for those.”
“So there could be some help there. What about places he visited often. Friends he saw. Anything that could lead us to the link.”
“He didn’t have many friends outside of work. He was a member of a club in the city. He took me for dinner there once, but I don’t remember the name. It was in Pimlico.”
“Inspector Wainwright can find out the name. Anything else?”
She shook her head. “If there was, he kept it from me.”
I considered asking her about Mr. Broome, but I wasn’t sure I wanted her to know I knew about him. Her story would almost seem plausible if I hadn’t found out about Mr. Broome and had my conversation with Lady Suffolk, neither of which Inspector Wainwright had the benefit of. I decided it was best to discuss both those things with him before I asked Miss Eaton about them.
I looked at Inspector Wainwright to see if he had any questions. He finished what he was writing and closed his notebook. “Very well, Miss Eaton. I will check into the information you’ve given us. In light of this, I will be stationing a constable at your flat. He will escort you to and from work and wait outside through the evening. I believe you have already met Constable Edwards? Very good. Then he will accompany you home today.”
Miss Eaton dabbed at her eyes. “Thank you for taking me seriously, Inspector. I’m not sure the constable is needed, though.”
“You were frightened enough to conceal information from me; I think a constable is definitely needed. I will make the arrangements.” He left the room swiftly.
Miss Eaton sipped her tea slowly. I could tell she was bothered. I suspected I knew why. “I know having a guard on your door can be irritating, but it will only be until they catch the accomplice.” It would complicate seeing Mr. Broome, though.
“I know he’s only doing his job. I’m sure it won’t be long.”
“Is there anything else you want to tell us? I can sort of slip it into conversation with Inspector Wainwright if you’d like.”
She shook her head. “My landlady won’t like having a policeman around. Maybe I can get rid of him.”
Miss Pimly would have been annoyed, but I suspected Mrs. O’Connell would be quite pleased to have Constable Edwards around. He was good looking and pleasant company, and quite appreciative of any scones or biscuits that came his way. Just the sort a landlady like her would love. But I said, “I’m sure he’ll catch them soon and it will all be over.”
Miss Eaton sighed. “And if they don’t catch them? How long will I be stuck with a nanny?”
“You’ll have to ask Inspector Wainwright.”
She nodded. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to be alone.”
“Of course.” I left her but paused in the hallway, pretending to adjust my jacket so I could listen, but she didn’t seem to be doing anything. The chair creaked a little as she fidgeted, but that was it. I went back towards the lounge to see if there was any gossip.
As I was passing the door to the sales floor, I noticed Mr. Tolland enter the shop. I went through to greet him, intending to follow him to whereever Inspector Wainwright was and try to hear the questioning. I was surprised when Mr. Garver said, “Would you like me to show you the way?” and Mr. Tolland answered, “I doubt it’s moved since the last time I was here. Don’t trouble yourself.”
I stayed in the hallway, wondering what to do, when Mr. Tolland spotted me. “So they called you in too? Is it a problem with the paperwork?”
So that’s why he’d come here so quickly; Inspector Wainwright had let him believe it was merely an insurance problem. I fell into step beside him. “They don’t tell me much. I’m hoping to find out myself.”
“If they called for your typewriter, it must be paperwork. I’ve been told not to take any new policies here until this matter is settled. After you.” He held the door to the display room open to let me enter first. I did to be certain I was going to be in the room for the questioning, then moved so I could close the door as soon as he was through. I don’t think he noticed as I slid the doorknob from his hand. He was staring at Inspector Wainwright.
Inspector Wainwright had rearranged the chairs around the table, putting the smaller ones on the side towards us and the largest, which he’d taken, in the middle of the table facing the door, making it look intimidating, like a desk in an important bank or head of company’s office. He gestured towards the seat across from him. Mr. T
olland swallowed nervously, but he tried to keep his usual purposeful stride as he crossed to the chair.
“Inspector, I thought I answered all of your questions already.”
Inspector Wainwright stared at Mr. Tolland until he sat down, then leaned back in his chair. He ignored me completely. “Well, Mr. Tolland, I did have one more question.”
“Any way I can be of assistance, sir, just let me know.”
“Why did you accept the policy on the Heart of Night when your examination must have shown it was a copy?”
I saw Mr. Tolland flinch slightly, but he wasn’t surprised. He seemed to have been bracing for this moment. He must have known he’d be caught. “Sir, I...”
“Don’t bother trying to deny it. We are fully aware that it was a copy, if the original ever existed, so if you deny knowledge, I will be forced to call your employer and inform him that one of his appraisers can’t tell sapphire from paste.”
“No deception was intended, I assure you. I was approached by someone from the store, you’ll understand if I don’t...”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to try again. We know who at the shop knew about it and have been assured that you had not been told.”
Mr. Tolland stared at Inspector Wainwright, twisting his gloves around his hands.
“Suppose I take a stab at it. You knew it was a fake, so you decided to play along and blackmail the shop with, what? Insurance fraud? That would have implicated you, then. Or were you going to go after the owner?”
“I didn’t know Lady–”
Inspector Wainwright just stared at Mr. Tolland until he realized he couldn’t deceive the inspector.
“All right. I wasn’t sure who was behind it, so I was waiting to see who approached me.”
“Who were you expecting?”
“Mr. Kleinman. He was so flustered when he came in, and he was bracing himself when I started speaking and was so much calmer when I’d finished. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do, if I’d do anything. Probably ask for money to make the paperwork disappear; then I wouldn’t be in trouble with the firm for insuring a worthless piece.”
“And the fact that there was a missing girl and a murder didn’t cause you think about maybe telling me this?”
“I―well, I―”
Inspector Wainwright stared at him while he stuttered. When it was obvious there was no more information coming, he stood up. “Come along. I’m taking you in for more thorough questioning.”
That got Mr. Tolland's tongue working again. “But I haven’t committed a crime.”
“I didn’t say I was arresting you; just politely asking you to come with me and answer some questions. If you would prefer to be arrested...”
Mr. Tolland sprang to his feet. “No, no. I’ll accompany you. Certainly. Our firm always wants to help the police in any way we can.”
Inspector Wainwright grabbed Mr. Tolland by the shoulder and led him out of the room. I opened the door for them but made no move to follow. Even if I managed to make it to the Yard with them, no one was going to let me near the interrogation rooms. I gave Inspector Wainwright enough of a head start so he’d know I wasn’t planning on following him, then went to glance out to the sales floor. No one seemed to notice that Inspector Wainwright’s grip was too tight to let Mr. Tolland break away. He managed to make it look like he was leading him to the street so they wouldn’t be separated. Neither Mr. Garver nor Miss Peters reacted. I didn’t see Miss Eaton anywhere. Miss Fairfield came through from the counter hidden by the door with a watch, presumably for repair.
“Miss Pengear, hello. Were you here for Mr. Tolland?”
“Among other things, I suppose. Did Miss Eaton leave?”
“I don’t think so. I didn’t see her, and since the back door is still blocked, she’d have to go through here, wouldn’t she?”
“I suppose so. Thanks.”
I wasn't sure what else to investigate and I wasn't ready to leave just yet, so I stopped in the lounge. I could always pretend I wanted a cup of tea before leaving, although everyone would know it was gossip I was after. I was in luck. Miss Henderson was fiddling with the teakettle. She looked up when I came in. “I saw Mr. Tolland arrive. Was there something wrong with the insurance, then?”
“Just a little matter Inspector Wainwright wanted some more information on.” I accepted the cup she offered me. “But I did want to ask you something.”
“Certainly.”
“Why did you decide to ask Miss Eaton and Miss Crawford out for dinner?”
“Why did―oh, it wasn’t my idea.”
“Miss Crawford said you asked her.”
“I did. But Connie, Miss Eaton, asked me first and said to get a group together if I could since I was expected back early.”
“But isn’t Tuesday her day off?”
“It is, but she said she’d heard the White Oak had excellent fish and chips and didn’t want to go alone. I think she was a bit lonely, really.”
“And why Miss Crawford?”
“She said yes. Miss Fairfield was going to visit her mother; Miss Peters had a gentleman caller who might or might not call; I didn’t ask the Kleinmans, of course; and Mr. Garver was going to come; but Mr. Morris had tickets to a prize fight and his friend backed out, so Mr. Garver went with him.”
I nodded. “I see.”
“That’s why I was feeling guilty about it, really.”
“It wasn’t your fault at all.”
“I suppose not, but I can’t help... But she’s been found safe and sound. I should go back out. I don’t want to leave Mr. Garver to deal with everything alone.”
I nodded and leaned against the counter to finish my tea. No one else came in, and waiting around seemed too much like I was waiting for gossip, which I was but didn’t want to advertise the fact. As I left the lounge, I noticed a hat hanging in the cloakroom. Something about it made me stop and enter for a closer look. I took it down and brought it to the better light in the doorway. It was midnight blue, the same shade as the hat I had seen outside of Miss Eaton’s boarding house, but there was no red flower, just a rather spindly grey feather, not unlike a pigeon feather. I looked at the coat it had been hung by, but the coat was a plain brown one, and I couldn’t tell whom it belonged to.
“Miss Pengear?”
I spun around. “Miss Eaton, hello. I saw this had fallen on the floor. I didn’t want it to get stepped on. Do you know whose hat it is?”
“Miss Fairfield’s, I think.”
“I’ll just leave it on the shelf, then. Were you leaving?”
“As soon as I get my nanny in order.”
“He’s really not so bad. Have a nice evening.”
She stayed in the doorway of the cloakroom until I’d left. I was tempted to wait by the door and see what hat she came out with, but it would be much easier and quite possibly safer to ask Constable Edwards later, so I went out through the sales floor, waved to Mr. Garver and Miss Henderson, and left.
~ * ~ * ~
When I got back to my flat, I found a note from Kate asking if I could get her in to see Miss Kleinman in the morning. I replied that of course I could and spent most of the night trying to figure out how I would manage to make that happen.
It turned out to be easier than I expected. Either Inspector Wainwright was doing his best to avoid me, or he really did have business on another case taking him to Ipswich, but either way, it was Constable Kittering who got my note asking to see Miss Kleinman. He hadn’t received any direct orders forbidding it, so he saw no reason not to let us use one of the interrogation rooms to talk to her.
Miss Kleinman looked strained but calm when she was brought in by one of the female guards. She seemed slightly shocked when I told her about the fake Heart of Night, but all she said was, “Why didn’t he bother to tell me?” in a tired sort of voice.
I had to ask, “You didn’t notice it was a fake?”
“Daniel handled the transaction. He was the one who examined it, and I truste
d him.”
“Inspector Wainwright said the murder weapon came from your desk.”
“That’s what he told me.”
“You didn’t notice your letter opener was missing?”
“I don’t use that one. I don’t use any of that set. It was a gift, and it’s pretty; that’s why I keep it out. But none of the pieces are very practical. They’re fine for quick jobs, but the scissors are dull, the pen holds very little ink, and the letter opener is too thin to efficiently slice through as many envelopes as I open. When I’m doing serious work, I use the things in my drawer.”
“And you didn’t notice when he asked you the first time?”
“Mr. Morris was dead, Miss Crawford was missing, and as far as I know, he’s talking about the time he asked me while it was still sticking out of Mr. Morris’s neck. I was distracted, and I didn’t like to look too closely at the body. The second time I saw it, I did realize it was mine, but it was too late by then.”
Kate was humming cheerfully despite the circumstances. While we were talking, she unpacked the carpet bag she had brought with her and arranged her notebook and pen on the table then placed a wooden box beside them. She opened the box to reveal a soft velvet lining filled with blue glass spheres. “If you two are done, Miss Kleinman, these glass spheres are of various designs. I want you to test the feel of each one and tell me which you think feels the most like the Heart of Night that you were handling, keeping in mind that it was done-up in a necklace with a setting and a chain. Here’s the first.”
Miss Kleinman took the sphere and cupped it in her palm as she had the necklace. “Too heavy.”
“Much or a little.”
“This is more than the whole other necklace.”
“Very well. Try this.”
“A little light, but closer.”
“And this?”
“Too light.”
It went on and on, Kate pulling a sphere out of the box, hearing Miss Kleinman’s assessment, scribbling furiously, and then getting another sphere. Not knowing what was going on, I was getting very bored and starting to wonder how on earth she had brought all of the spheres she was using when Kate put down her pen. “Very interesting. You picked the same sphere four times, which tells me this was fairly accurate.”