Frances reflected on this, and the realisation when it came, appalled her. ‘Do I understand you correctly? Are you saying that in return for Mr Marsden’s services, to ensure that you are cleared of the murder of your wife, you will provide him with some means by which he might ruin Mr Rawsthorne?’
Wheelock sucked his teeth noisily.
Angrily, Frances rose to her feet again. ‘I knew there was something wicked and underhand happening here! You know very well that not only is Mr Rawsthorne my solicitor, but he has been a friend of my family and in particular of my late father, for many years. Yet you ask me to assist in a scheme to ruin him? It is quite extraordinary and I can have no part in it. In fact, I shall go to him at once and warn him of what you have just said. Good day.’
He gazed at her through slitted eyes, like a snake. ‘Don’t you want to learn more? Because there is more. A lot more.’
Frances was at the cell door when she hesitated. Everyone has their price, she reflected, and for most people it was reckoned in money but for her, it was information. She turned and looked at him sternly but he only smirked. With great reluctance she returned to the bench and sat down again. ‘You have told me nothing of any interest or value so far.’
He leaned forward. ‘This is between us. Just you and me. I need your promise.’
‘If you are about to tell me of a crime and give me the power to bring it home to the perpetrator I cannot remain silent.’
‘Oh the perpetrator will suffer, you need have no doubt of that. And you will be a part of it.’
Frances had a dreadful sense of foreboding. ‘Very well,’ she said against all her better judgment, ‘I promise.’
‘To begin with, Mr Rawsthorne was not best pleased with me when he found I was going to marry Mrs Outram. He felt cheated, because he wanted a dip in that pot himself.’
‘I don’t believe you. Mr Rawsthorne cannot have had ambitions there, he is a married man.’
‘But his brother is a widower. Rawsthorne was going to introduce him to Mrs Outram and engineer a marriage. In return for that service he would get a share of the bounty. That is why he worked so hard to try and stop my marriage and when he couldn’t do that, have it declared invalid. While my wife was alive she could be made single again, all ripe for his little scheme. Now she isn’t I wouldn’t mind betting that Rawsthorne has a profitable agreement with Chandler. For all I know Chandler was his puppet right from the start. How do you even know he came here all the way from India? You only have his word for it.’
‘Your late wife may have been a susceptible woman but she was fully able when sober to make her own decisions. If she had married Mr Rawsthorne’s brother that would have been her choice. It might have been an unwise choice but if all such choices invalidated a marriage there would scarcely be a married couple left. And there are marriage brokers who charge introduction fees. I see nothing blameworthy in that. Her marriage to you, however, I believe was the product of blackmail. I think that you were able to prove that she destroyed her first husband’s most recent will, and threatened her with exposure.’
He looked impressed. ‘Nice theory. You’re almost there. I couldn’t prove it but I had my suspicions. Surprising how gossip gets about amongst legal men. Things you can’t say out loud, things you can only whisper. Juicy things.’
‘But you were able to convince her that you had proof?’
‘Your words, not mine.’
‘Do you think there was a new will?’
‘Oh, I’m sure of it. And I’m also sure that there isn’t one now, because if I can’t find it no one can. But I couldn’t prove if it was my wife who destroyed it or her first husband. One’s a crime the other isn’t. Judging by her reaction when I tackled her, she did it.’
‘But you have no proof of any wrongdoing on Mr Rawsthorne’s part, only fanciful allegations, which I am disinclined to believe. I doubt that his brother would support your story. You still haven’t told me what documents you require.’
Wheelock descended into his own thoughts for a while. ‘I’ll tell you all about it,’ he said at last. ‘And if you think what I just said was bad, well this is worse. Much worse. You know, of course, that Rawsthorne lost a lot of money when the Bayswater Bank crashed, but I happen to know that he was in trouble well before that. Tried to make a fortune on the stock market. A few men succeed that way, but he wasn’t one of them. So when things were tight and bills needed paying he used to draw on his clients’ accounts. When he was able to, he put the money back. I suppose he wasn’t exactly a thief as he never meant to keep it, but it’s not the kind of thing a solicitor ought to do. He’s still in debt now, house mortgaged twice over, but marrying his brother to Mrs Outram would have solved all his troubles.’
‘If this is true, and I am not saying that I believe you, then I am sorry to hear it. I wonder how many other men in his position would have been tempted to borrow from funds entrusted to them. But you say he put the money back?’
‘When he was able to,’ Wheelock repeated meaningfully. ‘Don’t you see it? When the bank crashed – something you played a part in I seem to remember – there were immediate demands from every creditor in Bayswater and no money to be had anywhere. And that was more or less the same day your father died. Died leaving you nothing but debts. All his savings gone in bad investments. So Rawsthorne told you. Now then, think of your dear old father and ask yourself this question, was he the kind of man to take risks with his money? Because I don’t think he was.’
Frances was speechless as all the elements of the story suddenly fell into place. Tears sprang to her eyes and she pressed her hand to her face so he would not see them. When she had recovered a little she said, ‘Are you telling me that Mr Rawsthorne took my father’s money – his savings – what would have been my inheritance?’
‘Yes. All of it. He needed it for an urgent debt, but thought he could pay it back. He had an investment with the Bayswater Bank that was due to mature in the next few weeks. Thanks to you, it never did.’
‘And when my father passed away Mr Rawsthorne had no means of putting his account to rights, but he was in a position to conceal what he had done.’ Frances tried to collect her thoughts. ‘If true – and you have not yet supplied me with any proof – then the thing that grieves me most is not the loss of the money my father would have left me, it is the fact that he was betrayed by a friend and then branded a fool. Can you prove what you say? Because I refuse to accept it until you do.’
Wheelock scratched his scrawny neck pensively. ‘No, not with ink and paper. Rawsthorne was too careful, he kept all that to himself. But he tripped up over Mr Agathedes. Now that I can prove.’
‘Mr Marios Agathedes? The man who was once suspected of murdering Annie Faydon?’
‘The very same. Rawsthorne thought he had burnt all the evidence, but I have fireproof fingers where those sorts of things are concerned. He knows I suspect, but he thinks I can’t prove anything against him, and all he has to do is stop my mouth. Nothing would make him happier than to see me in prison, or better still, hanged.’
‘Mr Agathedes has been judged insane – delusional.’
‘Easy enough to do if you know the right people. Rawsthorne acted for him in a few small matters, but he soon found that Agathedes, while not himself a rich man, had come to England with a nice parcel of family money to invest. So Rawsthorne kindly offered to look after it for him. Agathedes had told him that the money would not be wanted for another five years so Rawsthorne felt safe in using it for his own purposes. But after a year Agathedes was offered a business opportunity and decided to draw on the funds. When he went to the bank where Rawsthorne told him the investment had been made, he found that the account didn’t exist. He went straight to Rawsthorne to demand an explanation. Agathedes needed the money at once, or the opportunity would lapse, so there was no time for Rawsthorne to put him off. Agathedes couldn’t prove he had handed the money to Rawsthorne, who had kept all the important papers. Agathedes
could show that he had once had the money but there was nothing to prove that he had not squandered it himself. So Rawsthorne simply denied that the transaction had ever happened. Agathedes made a fuss, as you might imagine, and Rawsthorne accused him of slander and had him removed. Then he burned the papers – or so he thought.’
‘Then Mr Agathedes is not mad after all?’
‘No madder than I am,’ said Wheelock.
‘I would like a better assurance than that.’
‘He went down with a brain fever, ranting about how he had brought disgrace and ruin to his family, and when it was thought that he might lay violent hands on himself, he was taken to the asylum. Rawsthorne was very sympathetic and offered at his own expense to write to Agathedes’ family in Greece to advise them of his condition and implore them to come at once. Strangely enough they did not reply.’
‘Because he did not write to them.’
‘Very sharp, Miss Doughty.’
‘And you have these papers well hidden I suppose. I imagine Mr Marsden would dearly like to have them.’
‘Oh he would indeed!’
‘Then why do you not give them to him – or tell him where they may be found?’
‘Because if I did, I would not trust him or any agent of his to pass the packet of papers to me unopened. There are things in that packet that Mr Marsden does not currently know I have, and would not wish to have made public. If he saw them, he would destroy them, and then he would destroy me.’ Wheelock sucked ink off the heel of his hand, pensively. ‘Mr Marsden doesn’t care for me much.’
Frances could have replied that no one cared for Mr Wheelock at all, but said, more diplomatically, ‘Mr Marsden does not care for anyone. He particularly dislikes me.’
‘That’s because he thinks you have no business being cleverer than him. I don’t like you either, but I like your brain. It’s like a man’s brain only better, because women are more enquiring than men, they know people, and their faults.’ He grinned. His teeth were stained red and black with ink. ‘We would make a good partnership. I’m a rich widower, I’m very eligible. Once I get off this murder charge we should get married.’
A shudder of distaste ran through Frances’ body and she made no attempt to conceal it. ‘Never say such a thing to me again.’
He shrugged. ‘I didn’t mean it in any case.’
‘I assume that you wish me to retrieve the packet of papers and bring it to you.’
‘Yes. I will then remove the papers relating to Mr Rawsthorne and you will pass them to Mr Marsden. The others I will ask you to seal and deliver to another agent who will keep them safe for me. And it must be done quickly. Before Marsden finds them.’
Frances gave this suggestion serious thought. She knew, of course, that she should have nothing to do with any of this man’s dealings, and yet the opportunity of confirming what had happened to her own inheritance was impossible to resist. ‘I make one condition. That before any papers concerning Mr Rawsthorne are sent to Mr Marsden, you must agree that I may examine them. That is the only proof I will accept that what you have told me is true. If I find you have not been truthful then I cannot act for you.’
Wheelock thought for a moment and nodded.
‘And the other papers, the ones Mr Marsden does not want made public?’
‘They will be, when the time is ripe, you can be sure of that.’ Wheelock pushed a hand into an inner pocket and removed a small key on a thin chain. He unfastened it and handed it to Frances, then reached out for her notebook and pencil and wrote an address and some numbers. ‘We haven’t talked about your fee yet.’
‘I am really not sure what it is worth,’ she replied, reluctant to ask for anything from him.
‘My life; my freedom. You might think they are worth nothing to you, but I put a value on them. Shall we say that it is a good turn you are doing for me, that you can put in your bank and draw upon whenever you like?’
Frances hardly cared. ‘If you wish. But this business remains between us, and nothing of the like will ever be transacted again. What about Mr Chandler? I am sure you must know I am acting for him in the question of your marriage.’
‘Oh these things get about. Can’t hide much in Bayswater. You leave him to Marsden.’
When Frances left the station she felt that what she most urgently needed was a cleansing bath. It was a strange situation she found herself in, representing both Chandler and Wheelock. She would not under any other circumstances have agreed to it, but tried to reassure herself that assisting Wheelock to secure the services of a prominent solicitor to deal with the murder charge while simultaneously collecting evidence to contest the validity of his marriage were not incompatible or contradictory. A nagging voice in the depths of her conscience told her that she was wrong.
The distasteful task required her to travel out of Bayswater, which she did in a closed cab that took her to a select banking house in the City. There she presented the key and the details she had been given, and recovered a small package from a safety deposit box. The papers revealed – and she was familiar enough with Mr Rawsthorne’s handwriting not to doubt it – that the solicitor had indeed received money from Mr Agathedes for the purposes of investing it in his client’s name. She had wanted so much to find that the material did not exist or that Wheelock had somehow got a clever forger to write the notes, but there was no mistaking Rawsthorne’s orderly hand, and the characteristic little flick of the pen at the end of each word was carried out with a fluidity and freedom that a copyist could not easily reproduce.
There were other fragments of correspondence too, items in which no names were mentioned, but which Frances, with her knowledge of the affairs of her own family, realised referred to her father. With mounting grief she saw the full extent of Rawsthorne’s betrayal. Frances reflected that she had only made promises to Wheelock about the Agathedes papers and the material that related to Marsden. He was probably unaware that material he might have imagined was part of the Agathedes papers actually referred to her family. Had she felt any trust at all in Marsden then she would have been content to pass this on together with the Agathedes papers, but she could not even be sure that he would recognise the documents for what they were. She therefore removed them to her own safekeeping.
Returning to Mr Wheelock with the horrid parcel lying like a toad in her reticule, the business was transacted. The remaining papers were separated into two bundles; the one relating to Mr Rawsthorne’s dealings with Mr Agathedes were placed into an envelope for delivery to Mr Marsden, the other was parcelled for delivery to a solicitor in Regent’s Park. With a heavy heart, and thankful that she could do so almost without words, or she thought she would have broken down, Frances assigned these errands to a trusted messenger, and was greatly relieved when she was told that both deliveries had been made.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
It was only once her tasks were completed that Frances finally allowed herself to consider the implications of what she had learned and what she had done. The one professional gentleman she had trusted all her life, she now knew to be a thief, a thief, moreover, who had stolen from an old friend, been content to see her left almost destitute, and had sent a man he had ruined to the asylum. She had seen the evidence with her own eyes and could not doubt it. That evidence would even now be in the hands of Mr Rawsthorne’s bitterest enemy who would put it to use without delay. The effect of the collapse of Rawsthorne’s long-running business could scarcely be imagined, but her only consolation was that he would no longer be free to ruin anyone else. The more she thought about it, the more her distress gave way to a blazing fury and when that had subsided there remained only a cold pitiless anger.
But what of her own client, James Chandler – was he what he appeared and claimed to be or was he the paid associate in a fraud operated by Rawsthorne? She had no idea. If she was to warn Chandler that Rawsthorne was in trouble and it transpired that the two were in league, then Chandler would take flight and a guilty man would e
vade justice. If he was innocent, however, he did not stand to lose either his fortune or his life by Rawsthorne’s ruin. She decided to test the water on Mr Chandler by sending him a note asking if he had received any news from Mr Rawsthorne regarding the information she had supplied regarding the Wheelock marriage.
There was, however, another and far deeper concern. With Wheelock’s defection, Rawsthorne must have started to feel the nets of justice closing in on him. He had been largely unavailable in the last few weeks and she began to wonder if he was not troubling himself to act for his clients at all, but preparing to flee London, or even England. Had he even been out of town at all as Mr Freke had claimed? While keeping up a pretence of normal business Rawsthorne would have been attending only to his own interests and those clients from whom he could extract large fees. He had probably only agreed to see Frances on that one occasion to prevent the suspicions of someone he knew was naturally suspicious. He certainly would not have been exerting himself for clients like Mrs and Miss Price. What, thought Frances, had become of the information about Jim Price that she had so trustingly handed over? She dedicated her afternoon to assembling copies of every fact in her possession regarding Jim Price and his alibi Mr Gundry and ensuring that urgent reports were sent by hand to the police, Mr Gladstone and the Home Office.
Then there were Rawsthorne’s other clients, some of whom she knew. They had to be warned. Frances took a cab and had a brief private word with her Uncle Cornelius, who was able to confirm to her relief that he had no current business in hand with Rawsthorne, then she hurried down to the Grove for a quick call on Chas and Barstie. They told her that Mr Rawsthorne acted for them but there had been some unaccountable delays of late that he had said were due to pressure of work. She needed to say nothing more; they understood at once what news she had brought. She left them busily going through every item of paperwork in the office.
Death in Bayswater Page 26