Curse of the Poppy (Penny Green Series Book 5)

by Emily Organ

  “What about your sister’s clothes?”

  “She possesses a number of expensive dresses she no longer wears because she can’t ride her bicycle in them.”

  “There you go.”

  “I’d have to scrub the ink off my hands,” I said, glancing down at them. “They seem to be permanently stained. It’s impossible to find a pen which doesn’t leak.”

  “Couldn’t you wear a pair of gloves?”

  “Yes, I suppose so.”

  “So you’ll do it?”

  “What do you know about the man?”

  “His grandfather came to Britain from India at the end of the last century and worked for a nabob. His son, Chakravarty’s father, owned some vapour baths in Knightsbridge. Mr Chakravarty has worked in the banking sector for many years and keeps a tight circle, but in the right company men like him have been known to brag, so you may get something useful from him.”

  “If he wants to impress me, you mean?”

  “Exactly. He has no interest in impressing me; however, I should think he would quite like to charm you, Penny, and have you borrow as much money as you can possibly stretch to.”

  “I don’t know if I could be convincing enough.”

  “Hopefully he’ll do most of the talking.”

  “Even if he does I’m not sure I can pass for a lady of great wealth. It would be easier if I was pretending to be a maid, as I have done before.”

  There was a pause as James considered this.

  “Perhaps it’s a foolish idea after all,” he said. “Forget that I mentioned it. It puts you under duress and I have no wish to ask you to do something you feel unsure about.”

  “I’ll do it, James.”

  “No, no, I’ll think of another way to find out what Chakravarty knows.”

  “I said I’d do it! I wasn’t sure when you initially suggested the idea, but I should like to meet Mr Chakravarty. He might even become a suspect, mightn’t he?”

  “He might. Are you sure you’re happy to meet with him?”

  “I’m certain. Now what of the legal firm that was pursuing Forster? Would you like me to meet with them as well?”

  “There’s no need; they’ve been much more co-operative. I’ve spoken to both Mr Sadler and Mr Campbell and they answered my questions comprehensively. I can find no evidence to suggest that they have behaved dishonourably.”

  “But they’re lawyers.”

  “Indeed. Lawyers often consider themselves to be above the law, but at this stage I have come across nothing to suggest that they would wish to harm Mr Forster or his wife. They were extremely saddened to hear of the attacks.”

  “Largely because they’ve lost out on the legal fees now the case has come to an end, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Oh, Penny! Not every lawyer is so very mercenary!”

  We both laughed.

  “Inspector Bowles has been rounding up ne’er-do-wells who he suspects were members of the gang which burgled the Forsters’ home,” continued James. “There’s no doubt the poor errand boy was paid to ensure that a window was left unlocked that night. There’s a good deal of anger about that, of course, and I’m keeping a close eye on the lad. D Division wish to prosecute him.”

  “But presumably he was too young to understand the implications of what he was doing.”

  “Bowles says if the boy is old enough to work he’s old enough to understand the responsibilities that accompany his employment. The lad has been extremely helpful in providing us with a description of the man who approached him a few days before the murder and that’s helped him in making an arrest. Needless to say the chap is already known to the police. I’ve spoken with Inspector Reeves, and interestingly the descriptions of the gunman seen shortly before and after the murder of Alfred Holland are not too dissimilar to the boy’s description of the ringleader.”

  “So there’s a possibility that the same man could have been the ringleader of the attack on both the Forsters’ home and Alfred Holland?”

  “Indeed.”

  “And could he be the same man who attacked Mr Forster in St James’s Square?”

  “Possibly, but Inspector Paget has been unable to find any reliable witnesses to that incident.”

  “The same man has to be behind all three deaths.”

  “I don’t know, Penny. Three different murder weapons were used: a cudgel, a knife and a gun. That suggests to me that we have three different assailants. A single assailant would most likely use the same weapon, because if it worked for him once it would be likely to work again. Changing the weapon each time is a risky strategy. It would make more sense to use the tried and tested one. If the same man has committed all three murders he must be extremely dangerous indeed if he is able to wield these different weapons with equal effectiveness.”

  “Perhaps I’m so desperate to link the three murders that I’m determined to prove the same person is behind them.”

  “It’s reassuring to think so, as it suggests we’re looking for fewer murderers. I’m inclined to think that the same man murdered Mr and Mrs Forster. I think the original intention was to murder Mr Forster at his home along with his wife. I believe the Alfred Holland murder was carried out by a different assailant.”

  “Someone who was equally proficient?”

  “Absolutely. In each case the culprit knew exactly what he was doing.”

  “So perhaps there is no connection between Alfred Holland and the Forster murders after all.”

  “I think not, unless you are able to find one. It may be nothing more than coincidence that the men worked in India. I have found no evidence to suggest that they knew one another.”

  “Alfred’s sister Emma is trying to find out more,” I said, briefly recounting the conversation from earlier that afternoon.

  “It’s encouraging that she is keen to do something to help,” he replied.

  “She seems reluctant to place her trust in Inspector Reeves. In fact, she seems to think I have a greater chance of solving the case than he does.”

  James laughed. “You probably have, Penny.”

  We stopped outside a small French restaurant with a blue and gold awning.

  “It would be rather nice to have something to eat, wouldn’t it?” said James, looking in through the window. “But I don’t suppose it would be appropriate.”

  I sighed. “I don’t suppose it would.”

  “When this wedding is over and the excitement has died down we’ll be able to do that sort of thing again.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure, James. I think that once you’re married things will be very different indeed.”

  “No, I don’t think —”

  “James, please don’t let’s argue about it. I know it to be true.”

  He held my gaze and said nothing further.

  Chapter 27

  “If only you had a little more height, Penelope,” said my sister. “The skirts drag along the floor a little. I wonder if we could pin them somehow.” She pinched some of the blue fabric and held it beneath my tightly buttoned bodice. “No, that still doesn’t look right.”

  “Good,” I replied. “I don’t like this dress anyway. The lace scratches my throat.”

  “It’s a perfectly good day dress and it cost a pretty penny.”

  “I’m sure it did, Ellie, and please don’t take offence. I simply don’t feel comfortable in it.”

  Eliza sighed and let the fabric fall from her hand. “That’s exactly why I stopped wearing dresses like this. You can hardly do a thing in them, can you? Let’s try the next one on. Burgundy and cream go so well together, don’t they? There’s no scratchy lace on this one, just a silk ribbon at the neck. I wore it to the Ascot Races. There’s a lovely parasol which goes with it somewhere.”

  “I prefer it to this one,” I said, fidgeting with the buttons on the bodice. “I can’t even get out of this dress. I feel as though I’m doomed to wear it forever.”

  “Let me help you, Penelope. You seem to be making
quite an effort for your meeting with this banker.”

  “I have to pretend that I’m a woman of means, Ellie.”

  She laughed.

  “What’s the joke?”

  “The things you end up doing for your work. Earlier this year you were a maid and now you’re to wear one of my dresses and put on your best airs and graces. I’ve practically given up trying to understand the whys and wherefores of it all.”

  “Inspector Blakely would like me to speak to a banker in the City to whom Mr Forster owed money.”

  “Mr Forster who was so tragically stabbed in St James’s Square?”

  “Yes.”

  “But that could be dangerous, Penelope! Do you think the banker might have killed the poor man because Forster was unable to repay him?”

  “We don’t know yet.”

  “You don’t know, but you’re still going to meet with this man? Is the inspector going with you?”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “James has tried speaking to Mr Chakravarty a couple of times, but he hasn’t been especially willing to talk.”

  “But Inspector Blakely is a police officer. He can force him to talk!”

  “He would prefer to use a softer approach at this present moment.”

  “And you’re the softer approach?”

  “I suppose I am.”

  “How dreadful. I don’t understand why you should have to do this.”

  “Because although Mr Fish has the Forster story now I’m working on the Alfred Holland story, which I’m sure is connected somehow. There are too many coincidences for it not to be.”

  “And I suppose Inspector Blakely is indifferent to the fact that this banker could stick a knife into you at any given moment?”

  “He won’t do that, Ellie. Even if he’s the murdering type I should think he would only do such a thing to those who cross him.”

  “And that’s all right, is it?”

  “No, but—”

  “It’s not safe, Penelope. You must have a man to accompany you.”

  “But it can’t be Inspector Blakely because Mr Chakravarty has already met him.”

  “Then you must take George.” She helped me step into the burgundy dress.

  “I don’t want to bother George with this.”

  “But the City is his purlieu. He’s so familiar with lawyers and bankers and all those professional types that I think you would be even more convincing with George in attendance.”

  “But he cannot pretend to be my husband!”

  “No, of course not, but he could accompany you as your brother-in-law. In fact, such is George’s reputation in that part of London that it’s very likely Mr Chakravarty has heard his name before. I think his presence will lend further credence to your woman of means role.”

  Although I did not usually enjoy the company of my brother-in-law, the thought of visiting Mr Chakravarty with an acquaintance felt surprisingly reassuring.

  “All right, Ellie, just so long as you don’t think he’ll mind.”

  “Of course he won’t. Now what do you think of this dress? It’s still a little long, but it sits much better about the hips and the bodice is terribly pretty, don’t you think?”

  “Yes, I like this one.”

  “Good.” She looked me up and down and grimaced. “You’ll have to do something fashionable with your hair, but I can’t think what. It’s almost irredeemable.”

  “Thank you, Ellie.”

  Chapter 28

  “Chakravarty of Change Alley,” mused George as we travelled along Cheapside by hansom cab. “Hindu, I would guess.”

  “His grandfather was from India.”

  “I can’t say I’ve encountered the man personally. He takes on private clients rather than businesses, I think. I’ve seen his advertisements in the Morning Express.”

  “Inspector Blakely says he’ll meet us outside the Royal Exchange,” I said.

  “What do we need to meet him for?”

  “He just wants to ensure that we’re happy with the plan.”

  “There’s a plan?”

  “The plan is for us to have a conversation with Mr Chakravarty about me borrowing some money to purchase a property in Kensington.”

  “That’s all the plan we need, isn’t it? Only you’re not actually going to buy a property in Kensington, are you? I understand this is some ruse to speak to the man you suspect may be behind the murder of that Forster chap.”

  “He might not be. I don’t think Inspector Blakely considers him a suspect just yet.”

  “Then why are we doing such a thing?”

  “To find out more about him. Any conversation you can have with him, you know, the man-to-man sort of thing, would be useful.”

  “Ah, yes. I understand you now, Penelope. You’d like me to talk around the topic a bit?”

  “I shall try to do the same, but I suspect that Mr Chakravarty will respond more favourably to conversation with a fellow gentleman.”

  “Naturally.” George pushed his lower lip out and nodded. “And I must say it’s a rather interesting morning excursion. I barely recognised you at first in all your get-up.”

  I was wearing the burgundy and cream dress with cream silk gloves which buttoned up to my elbows. Eliza had also lent me a diamond bracelet and Mrs Garnett had pinned my unruly fair hair into neat curls. A small silk hat had been fastened into my hair and I had reluctantly parted with my spectacles, which Eliza had said made me look like a working woman.

  Despite my short-sightedness I was able to recognise the large, columned portico of the Royal Exchange as it came into view. I made a great effort to step elegantly out of the cab once we stopped and immediately opened my fringed parasol to shield my face from the sun.

  Although my bodice was tight and my skirts were cumbersome I found myself enjoying the prestige afforded me by my attire. I smiled to myself as I noticed a few heads turning in my direction.

  “Penny?” James’ face was a blur until he stood close beside me. He looked me up and down and grinned. “I… Well, I… I can’t believe you’re you!”

  I felt a warmth in my face. “Is that a good or a bad thing?”

  “It’s… You look good. Extremely good indeed! Not the Penny I’m used to, but certainly not in a bad way.”

  “Left you tongue-tied, hasn’t she?” laughed George. “Surprisingly well-favoured when she makes the effort, isn’t she?”

  The reaction of the two gentlemen made me realise that I usually neglected my appearance.

  “Shall we get on with it?” I asked impatiently.

  “You’re here to tell us about some plan, are you, Inspector?” asked George.

  “I’d like you to subtly mention Mr Forster in conversation if possible,” said James.

  “How do we do that when we’re there to talk about a mortgage?” George replied.

  “Maybe you could pretend that he’s a friend of yours.”

  “I could try, but what if this Chakravarty starts asking questions about him? I don’t know Mr Forster from a slice of cheese.”

  “Don’t do or say anything which makes you feel uncomfortable,” said James. “Chakravarty will pick up on it and suspect something. Only mention Forster if it feels appropriate to do so.”

  “And to what end?” asked George.

  “What do you mean?” replied James.

  “Suppose we mention Forster, what then? What are we hoping this Chakravarty chap will say?”

  “Who can predict what he’ll say? It will be interesting just to gauge his reaction.”

  George sighed. “It’s an intriguing plan, but I suppose it’s what you detectives and news reporters are accustomed to. Are you ready, Penelope?”

  “Yes, I think so.”

  “Good luck!” said James. “And thank you both. I appreciate your help.”

  I took George’s arm and we crossed the street before stepping into a narrow passageway. I was accustomed to London alleyways being smelly, dingy places
frequented by shifty-looking people. This one was more salubrious, widening as we progressed along it and lined with attractive shops.

  “This was once the home of the coffee houses,” said George, swinging his cane as he walked. “Garraway’s was on this corner here. And there was also Jonathan’s. It’s where it all began, you know.”

  “Where what began?”

  “Trading in stocks and shares. The great men of those days came here for coffee and important discussions. What fun it must have been.”

  We passed a clock shop and saw a man in a top hat and a lady in a silk bustle dress admiring its wares in the window.

  “Is this it?” asked George, pausing by a doorway, beside which was a brass plaque etched with the words: ‘Samuel T. Chakravarty (Banker), established 1862’.

  “It is indeed,” I replied.

  He gave three sharp raps on the door with the mother-of-pearl-encrusted top of his cane.

  Chapter 29

  Mr Chakravarty was a humourless, brown-skinned man with heavy eyebrows and streaks of grey in his wavy black hair. His collar was so tall that it appeared to dig uncomfortably into his jowls. He sat at his desk beneath a portrait of a traditionally dressed Indian gentleman, who I guessed was a family member judging by the similarity of their features.

  He listened intently as George explained my proposition to borrow six thousand pounds. I nodded politely and smiled where appropriate, all the while trying to assume a self-assured air.

  “Everything sounds satisfactory,” said the banker once George had finished his explanation, “and I can foresee no reason why we should be unable to proceed in a straightforward manner. Have I seen you before at the Colthurst Club, Mr Billington-Grieg?”

  “You may well have. I’ve been a member there for twelve years now.”

  “Eighteen myself. It’s not what it used to be, but it’s still an agreeable venue.”

  “The food has gone a little downhill since the new chef arrived.”

  “Hasn’t it just? He insisted on engaging a new meat supplier, I understand.”

  “I insist on the previous one!” stated George.