Curse of the Poppy (Penny Green Series Book 5)

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Curse of the Poppy (Penny Green Series Book 5) Page 13

by Emily Organ


  “As do I. The spiced lamb served up last week was practically indigestible.”

  “Have you complained?”

  “Oh yes, I’ve complained all right, but if the food doesn’t pick up I shan’t mind too much. It’s the company I enjoy there more than anything, and the imperfections of the Colthurst are part of its appeal, wouldn’t you say?”

  I did my best to stifle a yawn. Although I knew this sort of conversation was important for building rapport I felt eager to move on to a topic I had a hope of contributing to.

  Mr Chakravarty sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers. “As a fellow man of the Colthurst, Mr Billington-Grieg, I would consider offering your sister-in-law a favourable rate of interest.”

  “Would you indeed? That’s very kind of you, my good man.”

  “My pleasure. It’s something I like to offer acquaintances of mine, and in doing so I hope that it might pave the way for future business?”

  “Absolutely. I’m game for anything that might help in paving the way.”

  “Good, good. Shall we get on with the paperwork, then?”

  “Yes, let’s!”

  George was enjoying his conversation with Mr Chakravarty so much that he seemed to have forgotten I had no intention of going ahead with the mortgage.

  “If we get on with the paperwork,” I ventured, “does that mean everything will be signed and sealed today?”

  “It certainly does,” replied Mr Chakravarty. “You can’t ask for a quicker service than that, can you?”

  “May I request a day or two to consider it properly? The purpose of this meeting was really to see whether we could agree something in principle.”

  Mr Chakravarty’s face fell.

  “It is such a lot of money, you see. I become quite nervous about large sums of money!” I added with a sweet smile.

  Mr Chakravarty looked at George and shook his head.

  “Women, eh, Mr Billington-Grieg?”

  “I’ve always said it and I continue to say it: they don’t have the head for finance,” said George, “or politics, either.”

  “Or the law,” added Mr Chakravarty.

  “Especially the law!” agreed George.

  I looked from one man to the other, incredulous that my stalling comment had drawn such unjust criticism.

  “Do you think it would be a good idea for me to sign the papers today, George?” I asked with an acidic tone to my voice.

  My brother-in-law laughed loudly and nervously. “My dear Penelope, since you have expressed a wish to spend a day or two considering Mr Chakravarty’s kind offer, that is exactly what we’ll do.”

  “Even though I don’t have the head for finance?” I was beginning to wish that Eliza hadn’t insisted on George accompanying me.

  “Yes, I have learnt over the years that one must always indulge a woman’s whim, otherwise a fellow never gets a moment’s peace.”

  Mr Chakravarty nodded in agreement. “Very well. I’m sure that after a day or two you will realise how favourable an offer it is, Miss Green, so I shall make a note of a few particulars and await your confirmation.”

  He dipped his pen into an inkpot and began to write something down. I felt inwardly relieved.

  “Will you be contacting me yourself, Miss Green?”

  “Yes,” I replied uneasily.

  George caught my eye, as if he had finally remembered why we were there.

  “I say, terrible news about that Forster chap, isn’t it?” said George.

  I felt my teeth clench at his clumsy introduction of the topic.

  “Mr Forster?” The banker looked up from his writing, seemingly baffled by the sudden change in conversation.

  “The chap who was stabbed in the back in St James’s Square.”

  “Yes, a most unpleasant business,” murmured Mr Chakravarty, returning to his notes.

  “Did you know the fellow at all?” asked George.

  Mr Chakravarty looked up again, appearing even more perplexed. “Know him? Why should I know him?”

  “Oh, I just wondered.” There were beads of perspiration on George’s brow.

  “Did you know him?” asked Chakravarty.

  “No, no, I didn’t know the fellow. I, er, in fact I don’t know anyone who knew him. But it was a terrible business as I hear that his wife was also murdered.”

  “I heard the same thing.” Mr Chakravarty rested his pen down on his desk. “Why are you asking me about Mr Forster?”

  “I was just making conversation. It’s been in the papers a lot over the past few days, hasn’t it? In fact, Penelope…”

  I felt my heart leap into my throat as I realised he had been about to mention that I was a news reporter.

  “Penelope what?” asked Chakravarty. His brows hung low over his eyes.

  “Oh, nothing really. I was going to say that Penelope, my sister-in-law here, is a keen reader of the Morning Express. You have been following the story intently, haven’t you, Penelope?”

  “I have indeed.”

  “The Morning Express, eh?” replied Chakravarty. “I take The Times myself.”

  My heart thudded heavily in my chest as I realised that George was in danger of saying just the wrong thing at any moment. Although he had developed a good rapport with Mr Chakravarty, his attempts to steer the conversation had set me on edge.

  “Apologies, Mr Chakravarty, for introducing a seemingly random topic of conversation,” said George. “I’m a garrulous fellow and cannot help myself at times.”

  “No need for an apology,” replied the banker. “It’s just an odd coincidence, you see. The fact of the matter is that I did know the unfortunate fellow.”

  “You don’t say!” replied George with mock surprise.

  “Yes! In fact, he defrauded me.”

  “Oh goodness, is that so? What a dreadful thing to do. Why should the fellow wish to do that?”

  “He got himself into a quagmire, that’s what. And he thought he could borrow money from me to get himself out of it. I lent him some cash for a mortgage on a property that it turned out he didn’t own.”

  “The rat!” declared George.

  “I prefer not to speak ill of the dead.”

  “Ah yes, I apologise.”

  “Again, there’s no need, old chap. Part of the fault must lie with me. I should have had more checks and balances in place.”

  “What did you do when you found out he had defrauded you?” I asked.

  “I began legal proceedings in an attempt to recover the money,” replied the banker. “That was the only above-board method available.”

  “And below-board?” inquired George.

  Mr Chakravarty sat back in his chair and folded his arms. “I’m not a below-board sort of man, Mr Billington-Grieg. What are you implying here?”

  “Nothing at all!”

  I winced as George gave a nervous laugh.

  “I hope you don’t mind me saying this, sir, but I can’t quite get the measure of you,” said Mr Chakravarty. “One moment we’re having a pleasant conversation and are about to proceed with your sister-in-law’s mortgage, and the next you begin asking me all sorts of odd questions.”

  “I do apologise if my questions were perceived as odd, Mr Chakravarty, I’m a garrulous fellow and —”

  “So you’ve already explained,” interrupted the banker. “I’ve been in this business a long time, Mr Billington-Grieg, and I’ve learned to be wary. I admit that I was caught napping when it came to Forster, but most of the time I consider myself pretty shrewd.”

  My mouth felt dry. The conversation had taken a turn for the worse and I needed to stop George talking any further.

  “Please blame me, Mr Chakravarty,” I said. “I was talking to my brother-in-law about Mr Forster just before we stepped through your doorway, so when a natural pause arose in the conversation the murder was the first thing that came to mind, wasn’t it, George?”

  “It was indeed, and —”

  “And although G
eorge was not personally acquainted with Mr Forster, he has been quite affected by the incident as both Mr Forster and his late wife seemed like any other middle-class couple. I believe anyone from a similar background would cast a glance at their tragic demise and wonder whether the same thing could happen to them. It’s only natural.”

  “That’s exactly my concern!” said George earnestly.

  “As we have learned more detail about the case we’ve realised how unlikely it is to happen to us given that we aren’t in such dire financial and legal straits,” I continued. “Though I’m not suggesting for one minute that’s why they were murdered so horribly. It’s possible that in making the decisions they did they acquainted themselves with nefarious types who lived beyond the realms of the law. I’m inclined to think that an association with someone of the criminal classes may have played a part.”

  I took a much-needed breath and hoped Mr Chakravarty’s response would be amenable.

  “Most eloquently put, Miss Green,” he said with a nod. “I think that’s a fair assumption when it comes to Forster. And it’s clearly little more than coincidence that you happened to begin discussing him while you were here. I just get a little fretful when former clients of mine are mentioned.”

  I felt thankful that Mr Chakravarty was momentarily appeased, but was keen to get myself and George out of his office as quickly as possible.

  “It’s a shame about your lost money, though,” said George. “Is there any chance you’ll ever see it again?”

  “I’m taking it up with Mr Forster’s estate,” replied the banker. “I always get my money back; I make damned sure of it.”

  Chapter 30

  “I don’t think I’ve perspired so much in my entire life!” exclaimed George as we walked along Change Alley toward Cornhill and the Royal Exchange. “That was incredibly stressful, Penelope. Awful! Everything was going swimmingly until I mentioned Forster, but the chap took umbrage at that, didn’t he?”

  “Yes, it was rather an interesting reaction,” I said. “As if he were guilty of something.”

  “Oh no, he couldn’t have done it, could he? He’s a professional gentleman.”

  “Professional gentlemen can be murderers too, George.”

  “Well, don’t ever ask me to do anything like that again. It wore my nerves down completely.”

  “I didn’t ask you, Eliza did.”

  “But it was your idea.”

  “No, it wasn’t. It was Eliza’s.”

  “I see. I shall blame her, then.”

  “Please do.”

  “I fail to understand what the aim of our meeting with him was,” said George.

  “As James stated, all we needed to do was gauge Chakravarty’s reaction.”

  “He was quite defensive, I thought.”

  “There you go, so that tells us something.”

  “Such as what?”

  “As I’ve already suggested, George, it implies that he’s hiding something.”

  “You do realise I’ll be bumping into him at the Colthurst Club now? It’s all going to be terribly awkward, especially when you don’t go ahead with the mortgage. How do I explain that to him?”

  “Tell him I’m a flighty woman prone to whimsies and that my mind changes with the weather. Rather typical of my sex, no doubt.”

  “I’ll use that.”

  James was waiting for us outside the Royal Exchange, so George and I told him how the meeting with Mr Chakravarty had turned out.

  “Thank you, Mr Billington-Grieg, for involving yourself in what must seem to you a rather odd setup,” said James.

  “It does seem rather odd, and I can’t say that I enjoyed the experience. I shall take my leave of you both now. I need to get to my office in Austin Friars and work on a government contract with one of my clients. I can only hope that I will be recovered in time for dinner tonight.”

  “Of course, George,” I said. “Will you be dining anywhere nice?”

  “The Burlington Hotel. In fact, I wonder if Chakravarty will also be attending. It’s a dinner for gentlemen with interests in India.”

  My heart skipped a beat. “With Mr Lewis Sheridan?” I asked.

  “Why, yes. How on earth did you know that, Penelope?”

  “Because I need an invitation to that very dinner myself!”

  George laughed. “Only chaps allowed, I’m afraid.”

  “Mr Sheridan is the merchant Mr Forster used to work for,” I said.

  “Is he indeed?” asked George.

  “Yes!”

  “Well, he’s the chap who gifted me those Chinese vases your sister adores so much.”

  “You know him well, then?” I asked.

  “Only through the business we’ve conducted with him at the law firm.”

  “Then you must tell me and Inspector Blakely all about him!”

  “Not now, Penelope, I have work to do. And besides, I don’t know a great deal about the fellow.”

  “Oh, how I wish I could be a fly on the wall at tonight’s dinner,” I said. “Do you think you could —?”

  “Ask Sheridan about Forster and gauge his reaction?” replied George. “No, I’m not falling into that trap again, Penelope. Once in a lifetime is more than enough for me.”

  “Oh, George, please!”

  “Absolutely not. I have no skill in such matters. I’ll leave the prying to you and Inspector Blakely here. I shall be attending this dinner with the full intention of enjoying myself and hopefully acquiring a little business along the way. You’ll have to find another opportunity to speak to Mr Sheridan.” He doffed his hat and strode away, swinging his cane.

  “I shall never understand why my sister married that man,” I said to James as we watched George’s retreating form.

  “In his defence, I suppose we have asked quite a lot of him,” he replied. “Not everyone feels comfortable asking awkward questions.”

  “I’d say few people are.”

  “Exactly, though for some reason people like you and I enjoy doing so,” he said with a smile. “Don’t be too hard on your brother-in-law.”

  “It’s not just about today; I don’t like him much anyway. I’ve told Eliza before now that I think his views are old-fashioned and bigoted.”

  “Let’s forget about him for the time being,” said James. “What we’ve learnt this morning is that Mr Chakravarty is rather sensitive to questions about Mr Forster. And he chose not to give much away.”

  “He doesn’t seem to be the sort of man to give much away.”

  “But thanks to your work this morning I’ll make a note that he’s someone to bear in mind. It’s possible he decided that he would only get his money back from Forster once the man was dead.”

  “I should think him capable of it, too,” I replied. “I cannot muster any fondness for the man.”

  James laughed.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “It takes rather a lot to impress you, doesn’t it?”

  “Not really. Just being an honest, likeable person is enough.” I looked down at my lavish dress. “It’s time for me to go home and change out of this now.”

  “Don’t you want to make the most of your fine dress?” asked James. “We could find a restaurant nearby.”

  “Much as I’d like to, James, we can’t. We discussed this only a matter of days ago. Charlotte wouldn’t allow it.”

  “She needn’t find out,” he replied quietly. “And besides, there’s something I need to tell you that I certainly won’t be telling her about.”

  Chapter 31

  James and I sat at a table in the corner of Leman’s Dinner Rooms, which had an elegant corniced ceiling and white tablecloths. He kept looking about him, as if worried we might be seen.

  I put on my spectacles so that I could also keep a lookout for anybody who might disapprove of us being seen together. I found myself enjoying the illicit nature of our lunch. It seemed that the closer James’ wedding drew the more clandestine our meetings had to become.
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  The waiter took our order and we were soon dining on potato and leek soup.

  “So what is it you needed to tell me?” I asked James. “And why can’t you tell Charlotte?”

  “She has a delicate disposition.”

  “Poor Charlotte.”

  “And she would probably request that I cease my detective work immediately.”

  “Would she? What would she rather have you do?”

  “She says accountancy is a safer profession.”

  “She’s not wrong.”

  “There are some days when I think that perhaps I should have chosen that path.”

  “Oh no, James, don’t say that. Police work is in your blood, just like your father and grandfather before you.”

  “You’re right, Penny.”

  “So what is it?”

  “Ah, yes. I realise now that telling you while we eat may not be the best idea after all.”

  “But I need to know now! You can’t leave me waiting until we’ve finished eating to find out, the suspense is too great!”

  “I don’t think you’ll feel like that once you hear what I have to say.”

  “And that comment simply adds to the suspense! What’s happened?”

  “I received a letter in the post.”

  “An unpleasant anonymous one?”

  “You’ve guessed correctly, Penny,” he replied with a grin.

  “We have experience of those, don’t we? They’re usually an indication that we’re on the right track with an investigation.”

  “You’re right, they’re a very good indicator of that. And they provide a useful opportunity to identify the sender.”

  “Unless it’s a hoax letter.”

  “There is that to consider, though this letter is certainly not a hoax.”

  “How can you be sure?” I asked.

  ‘Because of one defining factor, which I’ll get to shortly.”

  “So what did it say?”

  “It told me in no uncertain terms to stop investigating the deaths of Mr and Mrs Forster.”

  “Was there a threat explaining what would happen if you didn’t?”

  “Not explicitly, no.”

  “From your description so far it sounds like a fairly innocuous letter, but it seems to be bothering you greatly. Why is that?”

 

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