‘Have you heard of him before?’ She leant closer to Jack.
‘With every successful man, you’ll hear rumours about dodgy deals, unless the money is old enough to have lost that kind of whiff and acquires respectability by dint of its antiquity.’ He pushed back a strand of hair that had fallen on to his forehead. Frances was glad he didn’t go in for the oily pomade most men used on their hair. Jack went on. ‘Third, the employees. They could have helped themselves to some of the stuff in the shop and needed to cover up the theft. Petty was sure to have noticed if his jewellery went walkabout.’
He sounded like someone out of a talkie, which suited Frances. It blurred the ugly reality. ‘Let me have a look.’ She angled for the list.
Jack brought his hand down on hers. ‘We haven’t finished yet.’
‘But there are no more names.’
‘Because we don’t have them yet, Frances. Think about it. Who is the mysterious client who arranged to see Petty’s most precious jewels? From what Bluey and I’ve heard, he or she hasn’t come forward yet.’ He arched his eyebrow and gave her a meaningful glance.
Her lips twitched.
‘What’s so funny?’
‘You are. I mean, not you personally, but right now all you need is a moustache, a monocle and a haughty stare to be William Powell as Philo Vance.’
‘I shouldn’t have taken you to see The Benson Murder Case. It’s given you strange ideas.’
She ignored this remark, instead snatching the list. ‘What shall we do now?’
‘We’ll pose as customers. You could ring up the shop, and arrange an appointment for us to look at their finest selection.’
‘And then?’ Frances pursed her lips. ‘Will you twirl your moustache and announce to the world the game’s up?’
‘What is it with you and your moustache?’
‘It’s not mine. I don’t have one.’ She giggled. A belated reaction to the earlier fright, she decided. She needed to calm down, or Jack would think her demented, or worse, childish.
He shook his head at her and smiled. ‘The point is to get them to talk. Even if you don’t recognise a voice, we might get an idea about their true feelings.’
‘That might work,’ she agreed, sobering up. ‘But who are you buying expensive things for? I don’t want to have any more talk.’
‘Don’t worry. It’s going to be a surprise present for Dolores, and you are tagging along to help me pick something. It’s not going to harm her reputation, and it is common knowledge that she adores jewels. You’ve seen her diamonds.’
‘They’re real?’ Her eyes widened. ‘But she’s wearing them everywhere, day and night. She probably even wears them to bed.’
His lips twitched. ‘I wouldn’t know that bit, but they’re real enough. Why do you think I’ve got a man watching over her from a respectful distance wherever she goes? And yes, I’ve tried to convince her it’s risky to flaunt riches like that, but those diamonds make her happy.’ He gave her a quick glance. ‘Maybe Phil can get her to see sense. If he’s coming back to visit her at all.’
He pulled her up. ‘I hope your mum will have some supper left for you. It’s been a tiring day for you. Or shall we see what Ginny’s got to offer?’
She stifled a yawn.
‘Another time, then,’ he said, deciding for her.
∞∞∞∞
For once, Jack drove her home without a detour. She struggled to keep her eyes open. How strange to think his working day had barely begun. Their worlds couldn’t be more different, she thought with a stab of regret.
The streetlights cast searching fingers over his face. The houses lay dark, huddling closer in the glare of the headlights. A few solitary lamps shone.
They were home at last.
Jack pressed a piece of paper into Frances’ hand. ‘My private number, and Bluey’s and the Top Note. Call me when you’ve set up an appointment with Petty’s.’
‘Don’t you want to come in for a moment?’ She tried to hide her disappointment.
‘I’ve got to change the roster to replace Bluey.’ He stroked her cheek with two fingers. ‘And I’ll need to be home when he calls with good news. Marie doesn’t shilly-shally when it comes to having her babies.’
∞∞∞∞
Frances sneaked inside and felt for the light switch on the wall. She intended to creep quietly upstairs, but unfortunately things had changed since she went to work that very morning. Three steps away from the flight of stairs, her head bumped against a heavy object, dislodging something that struck her on the shoulder.
She yelped. Her probing fingers found the object that had collided with her shoulder. A telephone receiver. She managed to put it back into its cradle without switching on the light.
She paused to listen. Everything was quiet. It must be much later that she’d thought. Rubbing her still smarting head, she clambered up the stairs and went to sleep with teeth unbrushed, wishing for once the bathroom weren’t located next to the bedrooms, with the pipes gurgling like a waterfall.
∞∞∞∞
The alarm sprang to life hours too early for her liking. The same went for her family. A cheerful voice rang out loud enough to disturb sleepers on the other side of town.
Frances snatched her dressing gown from its hook and wrapped herself in it as tightly as she could as she dragged herself to the bathroom.
‘Right-ho,’ she heard Phil shout. ‘Sweet. The chemmy parlor, eh? Illicit gambling?’
She opened the cold water tap, splashing herself with a vengeance.
∞∞∞∞
Phil made a dash for the door as she came downstairs.
‘Bye, Frances,’ he called out, slapping his hat on at a rakish angle. ‘See you tonight.’
She slumped at the kitchen table. Maggie hummed to herself as she toasted bread for Uncle Sal.
‘Morning, my darling,’ Maggie said. ‘Sorry I didn’t wait up for you.’
‘I didn’t intend to stay out that late.’ Frances shifted on her seat. She slid a piece of toast from Uncle Sal’s plate onto hers. He looked as peaky as she felt, the poor darling.
She reached for the butter knife when she remembered something. ‘Do you know, Uncle Sal, that I met Bluey’s wife, Marie? She is so nice, and she remembers you being on stage. Her mother was smitten with you, from what Marie says.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ Uncle Sal said, but his shoulders straightened and his eyes lit up.
‘It’s true. I said you’d love to meet her.’
‘What an interesting day you must have had.’ Maggie cracked two eggs into a bowl, added a splash of milk and whisked the mixture.
‘And what about you? Getting a telephone without bothering to tell me, you sly creatures.’
‘We only found out when the workmen knocked on the door, didn’t we? When Phil ordered the phone to be put in he was told it might take up to a fortnight.’ Maggie poured the egg mixture into a sizzling pan.
Uncle Sal winked at Frances. ‘Someone must have pulled a few strings to move us up on the list.’
‘Probably the police chief,’ Frances said. ‘Although, judging by the noise Phil made on the phone, he could simply stick his head out of the window and yell.’
Uncle Sal chuckled. ‘If the other bloke wasn’t deaf before, he’ll be deaf now.’
Maggie stirred the scrambled egg. ‘That’s unfair,’ she said. ‘When Jack rang yesterday to say that you’d be delayed, he had to repeat his words twice, to make himself heard. You of all people should know how noisy the lines can be.’ She set three plates out and divided the egg equally.
Frances had just taken the first forkful when Uncle Sal asked, ‘What did you do anyway? We couldn’t quite make out where you were.’
The scrambled egg went down the wrong way. She coughed and sputtered. Maggie patted her back. Uncle Sal handed her a glass of water.
She took a big gulp. ‘I found a food dole book for a woman with three kids.’ She cleared her throat again. ‘I had to t
ake it to her place, didn’t I?’ She looked at her mother for support. ‘If I had known we’d got a telephone, I’d have given you a buzz.’
‘Phil wanted it to be a surprise,’ Maggie said. ‘I thought I’ll put a notebook on the side table in the parlour, where we can log the calls we make?’
Frances pushed back her chair. ‘That’s a good idea. I’ll make sure we pay our fair share.’ She blew Maggie and Uncle Sal a kiss. ‘I’ve got to run.’
21
The air had a decided nip to it. She opened her handbag to take out her old gloves, locating the first one straight away. But the second one wasn’t there. Drat; she must have dropped it when she tried on the kid gloves, but, and this thought cheered her a bit, Martha or Tilda would have found it. She’d pop over to the shop after work.
Leaves crunched under her soles. Curls of smoke drifted from the chimneys. Frances shook a few leaves off an overhanging branch to watch them drift to the ground in a lazy spiral. She felt self-conscious, going to work wearing her good tweed skirt that flared out below the knee and the matching jacket. But, after all, they might go to Petty’s today, and she had to look the part.
∞∞∞∞
It took all her courage to place the call for an appointment during her lunch time.
She didn’t dare lock the door, but instead she’d settled for the next best thing and blocked it with a chair. The door could still be pushed open, but it would be noisy enough for her to be warned so she could disconnect. If Mr Gibbons or anyone else for that matter inquired why the chair wasn’t in its usual place, she’d claim she’d seen a mouse clamber on top of the tall filing cabinet next to the door and climbed on the chair to investigate.
∞∞∞∞
Five minutes later she placed another private call. Jack picked up after two rings.
She said, ‘Quick, I can’t talk long. Today, at a quarter to five. I said it’s for Miss Bardon and that you’re solely interested in the most expensive pieces. The girl said they couldn’t have the merchandise in store any earlier.’ She glanced around her, lowering her voice further. ‘Don’t pick me up here. There’s enough talk already. I’ll meet you outside Balfours’ café. I finish at four. Bye.’
‘Got it,’ Jack said before he rang off.
In double-time she tore off her headset and dashed over to the door. She put the chair back in its usual place, took out her sandwich and bit into it. Being on edge always made her hungry, and right now she was starving. She wished she had enough time left to go and retrieve her glove now. Or, she made a calculation in her head, she could run there after work and hope she’d still be in time for her date with Jack.
∞∞∞∞
‘Frances, what a lovely surprise.’ Martha beamed at her short-sightedly. ‘Tilda’s been as giddy as a school girl ever since your charming Mr Sullivan invited us to the club,’ she twittered. ‘Do you think it would be too naughty if we went, my dear? It must be utterly thrilling.’
‘Tell me in time, and we could make up a group with Mum and Uncle Sal.’ Frances felt herself warm to the idea. Jack was right. Why shouldn’t the sisters have a good time?
‘I’m sorry I can’t stay longer,’ she said, ‘because I’m in a bit of a rush and I only wanted to see if you’ve picked up my glove, but I’ll come back another day, so we can make plans.’
Martha’s face glowed with pleasure. ‘That’d be lovely, my dear. I’ll go and get it for you.’ She bustled away, her heels clip-clopping on the wooden floorboards.
Frances barely had time to glance around before Martha returned and handed her the missing glove. ‘Now you can run along and meet your young man, Frances.’ She beamed at her. ‘Before I forget, did the other man, now what was his name, find Maggie all right? He was so keen to get in touch after all these years. I think it’s always so nice to catch up with old family friends.’
Frances’ heart missed a beat. ‘What man?’
‘Why, the gentleman who saw you leaving the shop with Mr Sullivan. Bit of a rough voice. He came in to ask your name, and when I told him, he said he knew you straight away from your family likeness, although you wouldn’t remember him after all those years. Funny, isn’t it, how small the world can be?’ Martha peered at her with sudden worry. ‘Are you unwell, love? You’re as pale as a sheet.’
Frances shook her head, forcing herself to breath normally. ‘I’m fine. I’ll be back soon.’
∞∞∞∞
Outside, she stretched out a hand against the wall to steady herself. She stumbled more than she walked as she headed to Balfours to meet Jack. He was the only one who could help her.
He was already waiting, pretending to be window-shopping at a man’s outfitters. As she approached him, he nodded towards the display. ‘I quite fancy the purple dressing gown with the yellow pinstripe. It would go particularly well with the artificial silk pyjamas in that astonishing shade of pink.’
‘Jack, please! I’ve got to talk to you.’ She grasped his sleeve, to reassure herself of his presence.
‘What’s the matter?’ he asked, the smile wiped from his face. He took her arm. ‘Steady, kiddo. We can either sit in the café and you tell me what’s bothering you, or we’ll talk in the car.’
‘The car,’ she said.
‘Right. We’ve got Danny with us today, acting as chauffeur. Take a deep breath. Whatever it is, I’ll take care of it.’ Jack gave her an appraising glance. ‘You look very smart, every inch the companion of a successful business man like me.’
He looked the part too, thought Frances with the small part of her brain that wasn’t paralysed. He was very flash with his starched shirt and silk vest in dove grey, dark grey suit and heavy golden cufflinks. The tie pin was inset with three sparkling gems glowing in a rich burgundy.
Jack stripped off his leather gloves and lifted his hand up to the light. His little finger sported a matching signet ring. ‘Pretty impressive, huh?’
‘Very,’ Frances said, feeling herself calm down.
‘They’re all family heirlooms on my mother’s side, except for the wristwatch,’ Jack said, keeping up the light tone. ‘It’s a bit too ostentatious for my liking, but in grandfather’s day that was considered very restrained. It should make me look like someone who’s willing to drop a bundle on jewellery, I hope.’
Danny opened the car door for her. He lifted his black cap. She hardly recognised the wiry waiter in the blue uniform with satin lapels.
She plumped down on to the back seat, hugging her arms to her chest.
‘Frances?’
‘He knows who I am,’ she said. It came out as a whisper.
‘Who does?’
‘Croaky. At least I think it’s him. I heard a man talking about the job. I thought I recognised the voice, and shrieked, and then the waitress asked me if I worked at the phone exchange. I panicked and ran away without getting a proper look at him, to Martha and Tilda’s when you met me, and I was so sure no one had followed me, that I thought I made a mistake.’
Her voice shook. ‘Jack, Martha says a man came in and asked who I was, a man with a rough voice. She told him my name and about my family and where I live.’
He stretched out his arm and pulled her close. She sank against his chest. ‘Don’t be frightened,’ he said, with an edge to his voice. ‘We’ll get Croaky, you’ll see, and I’ll keep you and your family safe. I promise. We’ll keep a watch on your house. He won’t get you, or your mum, or Uncle Sal. Do you believe me?’ He pressed a kiss on her hair.
‘Yes.’ She opened her bag to fumble for her handkerchief.
‘Are you feeling strong enough to follow through with our plan?’
She forced down the lump in her throat. ‘Yes.’ Even with Jack at her side, she knew she wouldn’t feel safe as long as Croaky was free.
‘Good girl. How about putting your handbag with the other stuff in the front? Something heavy is poking in my ribs.’
He handed the bag to Danny who wedged it in between a beribboned perfume bottl
e and a teddy bear.
Frances leant forward and stroked the bear’s head, glad about the comfort it gave her to touch these very ordinary things. It made the dread she’d felt earlier less real somehow. ‘I haven’t even asked about the baby. Boy or girl?’
‘A strapping, seven-pound girl. Bluey says she doesn’t have a single hair on her head, but apart from that she’s the spitting image of Marie, and they’re both doing great.’
‘I bet he’s besotted. Do they have a name yet?’
‘I haven’t asked. I talked for less than a minute with Bluey.’
‘I’d like to get the baby a present,’ Frances said. ‘Would you mind taking it along if I drop it off at the club?’
‘I’d be delighted, if you promise me not to go out alone.’ Jack gave Danny a signal. ‘Wait for us here, right outside the shop window. I want them to be able to see you.’
Danny nodded. He slumped back in the seat, eyes watchful. That was all it took to make him appear meaner and shiftier, the kind of man who knew how to fight. It was all very trust-inspiring.
∞∞∞∞
‘Mr Sullivan and company? We have an appointment.’ The man must be the manager or the new partner, Frances thought. His dark, heavily pomaded hair was parted with precision, his moustache trimmed to a pencil-thin line, curling up half an inch at the end, and his manicured fingernails gleamed.
Jack handed his hat to a girl in a smart black suit. Everything in Petty’s whispered money and discretion, from the deep, oblong, glass cases to the sofas upholstered in black velvet and the black and white tiled floor. Floor-length mirrors could be wheeled where needed, and chintz curtains hung ready to create privacy.
A Matter of Love and Death Page 19