by Emily Organ
She nodded in reply.
“Constable Ellis and I had better go back to Old Jewry now and speak to Chakravarty,” said James as we stood on Gracechurch Street. “I’m not sure what we’ll get from him; the chap seems quite impenetrable. If all goes to plan Mr Sheridan will join us there very soon.”
“I’ll go to Euston,” I replied. “I’m growing increasingly worried about Emma Holland. I still don’t understand why Chief Inspector Cullen wanted those diaries.”
“I plan to deal with Cullen once I’ve spoken to Chakravarty and Sheridan. You don’t need to have anything more to do with the man, Penny, especially after the way he treated you. I intend to make a formal complaint to Commissioner Dickson about it.”
“Thank you, James.”
“You can leave this with me now. Hopefully the case will be solved by the end of the day.”
“Good luck.”
We parted at the junction of Gracechurch Street and East Cheap. I made my way toward Monument Station, from which point I could travel by underground railway to Gower Street.
“Penny!” I heard a shout from behind me and spun round to see James running straight at me. “I’ve changed my mind, I’m coming with you! I’ve left Constable Ellis waiting for Sheridan when he arrives. The train to Euston will be too slow; let’s hail a cab.”
Chapter 66
“What made you change your mind?” I asked James as the cab travelled along King William Street in the direction of the mayor’s residence, Mansion House.
“I feel nervous about letting you out of my sight at the moment,” he replied. “And like you I wish to make sure that Emma Holland is all right. I haven’t met her yet, but the fact that she knows something about those diaries undoubtedly puts her at risk.”
“Thank you for coming with me,” I said with a smile, “especially when you have so many other things to be doing at the moment.”
“Hopefully this won’t take long. My only regret is that I haven’t brought my revolver with me. Cullen asked me to hand it over to him at the house in Haringay. Let’s just hope that I shan’t need it.”
Emma’s maid Doris answered the door and instantly recognised us from our visit the previous week.
“Crikey, Miss ’Olland’s popular today,” she said. “She’s got visitors at the moment, but I can pass a message on for yer.”
“We’d prefer to wait if that’s all right,” said James. “Will she be long?”
“’Opefully not.”
We stepped into the hallway and I saw that the door to the parlour was closed. I noticed two top hats and a bowler hat on the hallway table. There was a cane in the umbrella stand bearing a familiar mother-of-pearl top.
“You can wait in the back room if yer like,” said the maid. “Miss ’Olland’s just in the parlour.”
“Thank you,” said James.
“The cane in that umbrella stand looks familiar,” I said quietly as we walked toward the back room. “My brother-in-law has one just like it.”
“The same brother-in-law who has been doing legal work for Mr Sheridan?”
“Yes.” My heart began to pound, and I stopped sharply in the hallway. “It couldn’t be him, could it?”
“Excuse me,” James called out to the retreating form of the maid. “Is Miss Holland’s visitor Mr Sheridan, by any chance?”
She turned in surprise.
“Yeah, d’you know ’im?”
James strode back toward the parlour.
“Inspector?” called the maid.
I followed in James’ footsteps. He pushed open the door without knocking and I stepped into the room close behind him.
There was a stunned silence as Mr Sheridan stared at us from an easy chair beside the fireplace. On the other side of the fireplace sat George, and on the settee next to Emma Holland was Chief Inspector Cullen.
He regarded us with a deep scowl.
“Have you never been taught to knock at a door before opening it, Blakely?”
Chapter 67
Emma Holland gave me a nervous smile, but I could see how intimidated she felt sitting alone in the room with three gentlemen.
“May I ask what your business with Miss Holland is, sir?” James asked Chief Inspector Cullen.
“None of your business, that’s for sure. Leave us in peace, Blakely, I’ll deal with you later.”
“I would hazard a guess that you’re discussing Alfred Holland’s diaries,” continued James. “Are you trying to find out what Miss Holland knows?”
Emma Holland gave a slight nod, clearly too nervous to speak.
Mr Sheridan stood to his feet and held out his hand for James to shake.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you… Inspector Blakely, is it?” he said. “And I’ve had the pleasure of meeting Miss Green before. Miss Green, you’re well acquainted with your brother-in-law Mr Billington-Grieg, of course! We have ensured that Miss Holland has legal representation during this interview, so all is being conducted properly. I asked Mr Billington-Grieg to accompany us and advise her accordingly.”
“Advise her on what, exactly?” asked James.
“She’s being interviewed by a police officer, and I wanted to ensure that everything was carried out in the proper way.”
I stared at George, who looked distinctly uneasy.
“There’s no need to explain yourself any further to this junior detective, Mr Sheridan. He was just about to leave,” said Chief Inspector Cullen, “along with his scribbling friend.”
“Aren’t you wondering how we got here, Chief Inspector?” I asked. “The last time I saw you was late yesterday afternoon at a house in North London. Your men snatched me from the street and took me there blindfolded.”
Emma Holland gasped.
“I suppose you hoped I would remain there as some sort of prisoner,” I continued. “You had already managed to persuade James that it was too dangerous for him to leave.”
“And I can see that the foolish man paid my advice no heed.”
“You tried to keep Miss Green a prisoner, Chief Inspector Cullen?” asked Mr Sheridan with a shocked expression.
“Not a prisoner… she’s exaggerating. It was for her own protection, but like Blakely she has chosen to ignore the advice of a senior detective with more than thirty years’ experience in the Metropolitan Police. Now take yourself and this wretched woman out of here, Blakely. We need to resume our conversation with Miss Holland.”
“They can stay,” said Emma, her voice wavering. “This is my home and I say they must stay and tell me why they were taken to a house in North London.”
“You can listen to whatever they have to say for themselves, Miss Holland,” he said, “but I fear they will paint a ridiculous picture of misery designed to elicit your sympathy. They cannot understand the complicated lengths a police officer must occasionally go to during the course of his work.”
I quickly explained what had happened to Emma, and I could see that both Mr Sheridan and George were clearly surprised.
“That’s dreadful, Penny!” said Emma.
“What did I tell you, Miss Holland? This story was designed to pull at your heartstrings,” said Chief Inspector Cullen.
“And all of it true,” I added.
“Well, it’s a step too far, I should say,” Mr Sheridan stated emphatically. “Not your finest hour, Cullen.”
The chief inspector glared at him in response.
“What is your concern with Alfred Holland’s diaries, sir?” James asked him.
“As I’ve explained to Miss Green, they contain secret information that must be contained.”
“Secret in what sense?” asked James.
“In the sense that it could fall into the wrong hands.”
“And which wrong hands did you have in mind?” James probed.
“I feel no need to explain the details of my investigation to the likes of you.”
“Do you have any ideas about these wrong hands, Mr Sheridan?” asked James.
“None, I’m
afraid.”
“May I ask what your interest in Alfred Holland’s diaries might be?”
“Don’t answer that, Sheridan. Let me deal with this man,” Cullen said, standing to his feet and striding over to James. “Consider yourself dismissed, Blakely. Your services are no longer required by the Yard.”
“What is the reason for my dismissal, sir?”
“For your continual disobedience. The Metropolitan Police has no need for men like you.”
“I obey orders when they’re given in the true spirit of policing, sir.”
“You cannot pick and choose which orders you obey,” spat Chief Inspector Cullen.
“I believe I can when those orders come from a superior who fails to act in the best interests of his profession.”
“How dare you suggest such a thing!”
“It has taken me a long time to believe it, but sadly I see now that it is true. You’ve done all this to cover up for the perpetrator of these dreadful murders. You have no interest in anyone being brought to justice; instead, you have tried to remove the very people who have come closest to the truth. Now you’re threatening an innocent woman who just happened to read her brother’s diaries in order to understand why he should have met with such an horrific and untimely death.”
Chief Inspector Cullen laughed. “You’ve spent far too much time with this reporter. That sounds like the sort of story she’d concoct for her newspaper!”
“Do you deny it, sir?”
“Of course I deny it! Now give me your warrant card. You no longer have the authority to execute the duties of a Metropolitan Police detective.”
James stared back at him. “I refuse, sir.”
“You cannot refuse this order, Blakely!” Chief Inspector Cullen’s reddened face was just inches away from James’ and I feared the senior officer would strike him. He was a strongly built man.
“Inspector Cullen, old chap,” said Mr Sheridan, standing to his feet. He appeared quite diminutive in comparison. “I fear that matters are getting a little out of hand. I feel this sort of altercation should never take place in the presence of ladies. Shall we save it for later? I’m quite happy to leave Miss Holland’s home now. I think we’re finished here.”
The chief inspector took a step back and jabbed a finger at James. He was quaking with rage. “You’ll regret this, Blakely. I shall ensure that you never work for any police force again!”
James cleared his throat. “I’m still unclear,” he said calmly, “as to why Mr Sheridan should be interested in Alfred Holland’s diaries.”
“Mr Sheridan told me he had never heard of Alfred Holland when I spoke to him outside the Burlington Hotel,” I said.
Chief Inspector Cullen paced the floor, his fists clenched. “Don’t respond to a single word these two put to you, Sheridan! He is no longer a police officer, and she will no longer have a job by the time this day is through. I had her dismissed before and I’ll do it again!”
“I think it is time for me to leave. Thank you for your time, Miss Holland,” said Mr Sheridan, giving Emma a polite bow.
“Why are you interested in Alfred Holland’s diaries, Mr Sheridan?” James asked again.
Chief Inspector Cullen bared his teeth.
“Did you know Alfred Holland after all?” continued James. “He stole opium for Mr Forster, didn’t he? And Mr Forster worked for your company.”
“Perhaps I can explain all this to you another time, Inspector Blakely, without your hot-headed superior present,” said Mr Sheridan curtly.
“Hot-headed?” snarled the chief inspector. “You wish to resort to petty insults after all I’ve done for you?”
Mr Sheridan smiled politely. “Thank you for your help, Chief Inspector Cullen,” he replied. “Our meeting here is concluded, and I’m quite sure this nice young lady no longer wants us cluttering up her home.”
“You haven’t answered Inspector Blakely’s question,” said Emma, rising to her feet. “Why are you so interested in my brother’s diaries?”
“Ask him,” said Mr Sheridan, pointing at Chief Inspector Cullen. “He took them!”
Emma turned to face James’ superior, her mouth opened wide in shock. “You broke into my home and stole them?”
“Not personally, Miss Holland,” said Chief Inspector Cullen irritably. “It was important that they didn’t fall into the wrong hands. I took them under orders from Mr Sheridan.”
“Gentlemen, now is not the time to be trading accusations,” said George. “I think this matter should be discussed at a later date when everyone has calmed down.”
“Your client is doing rather a good job of making me appear to be the guilty party, Mr Billington-Grieg,” said Chief Inspector Cullen. “I took the diaries on the orders of Mr Sheridan, and I also tried to get these two out of the way” – he gestured toward me and James – “on the orders of Mr Sheridan.”
“How much was Sheridan paying you, sir?” asked James.
The chief inspector spun round angrily. “Paying me? What are you talking about, Blakely?”
“You must have received a decent sum to go to such great lengths to cover up Sheridan’s crimes.”
Mr Sheridan laughed. “And what crimes might those be?”
“The murders of Augustus and Olivia Forster, Alfred Holland and Charles Mawson.”
Mr Sheridan shook his head. “Oh dear! I see that Cullen here was right about you all along, Blakely. You really don’t have a clue, do you? Forster got himself into terrible debt, Mawson was a thief and Holland was an opium addict. All three got themselves into tricky situations and only have themselves to blame for their inevitable demise.”
“No one ever deserves to be murdered,” I hissed, “and you’ve forgotten about Mrs Forster, who was entirely innocent of any wrongdoing!”
“She was indeed innocent, and her death was extremely tragic,” replied Mr Sheridan. “You’re speaking as though I had something to do with it.”
“Oh, but you do,” said James. “With your company about to sign a lucrative contract with the India Office you needed to ensure that no one had a chance to make any trouble for you. It wouldn’t do, would it, to be found guilty of trading in illegal opium?”
“The trading activities of my company are perfectly legal, Inspector Blakely. Or perhaps I’m mistaken in addressing you as inspector. I believe Chief Inspector Cullen has just dismissed you from the Metropolitan Police.”
“Once the commissioner has been made aware of the arrangement between yourself and Cullen it will be he who leaves the force, not me,” retorted James.
Mr Sheridan laughed. “At this present moment I’m not convinced either of you has any authority. Come on, Mr Billington-Grieg, it’s time we were on our way.”
I could see George hesitating. “I’m not really sure what’s going on here,” he said. “I think I shall return to my office.”
“Nonsense, man, you’re coming with me,” said Mr Sheridan. “There’s a good deal still to do.”
James moved to block the doorway, standing directly in their path. “Mr Sheridan, I am placing you under arrest.”
Chapter 68
“Leave him alone, Blakely!” threatened Chief Inspector Cullen.
James simply ignored him.
“Arrest me?” asked Sheridan with a smile. “On what possible grounds?”
“You arranged the murder of your former colleague Mr Forster, who handled stolen opium from the factory at Ghazipur while working for your company. Not only were you aware of this work, but it was carried out at your request. It was your company that smuggled the stolen opium into China.”
“What nonsense!” Sheridan said with a chuckle.
“Unfortunately for you, Forster was clumsy,” continued James. “He was careless in his financial affairs, and no doubt with the stolen opium. I’m sure that once you realised how risky he was you arranged for him to be sent back to England and out of your way. It should have been easy to forget all about him, but when the possibility
of a contract with the India Office came your way you realised the existence of this man could cause serious problems. If the India Office learned about your company’s illegal dealings the contract would never have gone ahead. That’s when you approached a notorious gang to dispose of him. Never quite sure how much Mrs Forster knew of her husband’s illicit dealings you decided to be rid of her for good measure. After the supposed burglary and tragic murder of his wife you were among the first to console him, but you were also keeping a close eye on the man as he had foiled your initial murder attempt.”
Mr Sheridan folded his arms and smirked at James. “What an interesting storyteller you are, Blakely! Do go on.”
“Don’t give him the time of day,” said Chief Inspector Cullen.
“No, I must say that I’m interested to hear the rest of his tall tale. Imagine how ridiculous it’ll sound in court!”
“It won’t even get to court,” said the chief inspector.
I stole a look at George, whose face had paled.
“A few days later your hired gang caught up with Mr Forster and he was stabbed in the back in St James’s Square,” continued James. “It was a dreadful murder, which shocked London. However, getting rid of Forster didn’t eliminate your problems. Two other men knew about the stolen opium, and you thought it possible that they would begin speaking of it. Mr Holland had discovered what you were up to, and when he reported Mr Mawson for stealing you had no choice but to recruit him. Using a combination of money and threats you had him falsifying forms, just as you had paid Mr Mawson to do. I haven’t yet had a chance to read Alfred Holland’s diaries, but I understand from what Miss Green tells me that he was trying to identify who he was stealing the opium for. Isn’t that right, Miss Holland?”
Emma nodded. “Yes, and he became quite friendly with the native gentleman he always dealt with, hoping that he could find out some clue from him with regard to what was happening to all the opium he stole.”
“And perhaps he was successful,” said James. “It explains why there was suddenly so much interest in his diary. It’s the secret information Cullen was trying to keep hidden. Perhaps you can tell me, sir, if Sheridan and Company was named in Mr Holland’s diary?”