‘Did you know anything about an offer of £5,000 made for the freehold of these premises?’
Hoop tried to control his agitation with difficulty.
‘Who told you that? I thought it was confidential. Somebody approached Dodd with a tentative offer. He mentioned it the afternoon before he died. I told him to tell them to go to hell. My father was ill and I wasn’t going to take the responsibility of agreeing to it. In any case, after all the work I’d put in at the Excelsior, I wasn’t in favour of selling out at the first signs of adversity.’
By the look of him, he was a bit mad. Recent events had been too much for him. He’d got the whole story of the failure of Excelsior out of perspective and now he was hoping somehow to restore the fortunes of a firm that had never had any good fortune at all. He babbled on now.
‘…We’ve had a lot of worries here and my father’s breakdown added to them.’
‘I’m very sorry, sir, and I hope you manage to pull things round. Goodbye…’
Hoop was already sorting out his papers again. He bade Littlejohn a vague goodbye without looking up.
Outside, it was raining. A mournful, sickly drizzle which made the wrecked offices and deserted works look more melancholy and hopeless than ever. Littlejohn climbed in the police car. Half an hour later he was in Brantwood, ringing at the doorbell of Pochins again.
At first he thought there was nobody at home; it took them so long to answer. Then Mrs. Sandman appeared. She was smartly dressed and judging from the sound of voices indoors was entertaining a party of women.
‘Good afternoon, Superintendent Littlejohn. I’m glad to see you again, although the time’s rather inconvenient. I have callers and we’re in the midst of tea.’
‘Is Mrs. Hoop available?’
‘Yes. Shall I ask her to come? If you’ve anything to say to her, the morning room’s available. I won’t be a minute.’
She invited him inside and he found himself waiting the way he’d done when he first called there. Judging from the noise of talk they might have been holding a large women’s tea-meeting at Pochins.
Mrs. Fred Hoop appeared. She was flushed with excitement and dressed in her best, all her jewellery and all. She greeted Littlejohn almost joyfully. You’d never have thought that her lover had been shockingly killed a few days before. She and Fred Hoop must have been a mad couple. No wonder Tom Hoop had been worried about them.
‘Did you wish to see me, Superintendent?’
‘Yes, very briefly, Mrs. Hoop. Could we find a place to talk in?’
She led the way to the same small room he’d visited before, leaving a heavy scent of perfume in her wake.
‘Now…’
It sounded like a satisfied sigh. She even forgot to offer him a seat.
‘On the day of the Excelsior disaster, did John Dodd telephone you? About eleven o’clock. If so, could you tell me what it was about?’
She flushed and even looked coy.
‘It was very personal…’
‘I understand. But your answer to my question is most important. It will probably help us in finding out who was the murderer.’
She caught her breath. She was slipping into the play-acting rôle again.
‘In that case, I must help. But you will see when I tell you, that the matter was very intimate between us. John said he wished to talk with me about… a divorce. You see, don’t you, how difficult it is? His wife had been to see a lawyer. He asked if Fred would… well… release me, too. I said it was too secret to talk about over the telephone. Actually, I wanted time to think. I hadn’t made up my mind about things, you see. John was very excited… So impulsive and emotional… He asked if I could meet him at the office. Excelsior office… at eight o’clock. He’d be alone and we could talk privately. I said yes. Then, he said he’d another piece of news, too. His fortunes looked like being much improved…’
‘In what way? Did he tell you?’
‘Not in detail. He said he’d do so when we met. He said he’d a big deal on and would soon be in the big money. I asked him to give me a hint of what it was about. It was then his turn to say it was too private to talk about over the telephone. He would give me a hint, though, if I’d keep it secret. It concerned selling the Excelsior business, he said, for a large sum of money.’
‘And that was all?’
‘For then, yes. But later, in the middle of the afternoon, John rang me up again. He asked me to put off the meeting at the office that evening. He’d a conference about his big deal to attend and would ring me afterwards. He never did, as well you know…’
She poked about in the corners of her eyes with a small lace handkerchief to indicate that she was in tears or well on the way to them, at any rate.
‘Thank you, Mrs. Hoop. That’s been a great help. I won’t take any more of your time.’
She saw him to the door, gave him a theatrical handshake in farewell, and hurried back to her friends. Littlejohn didn’t know what she would tell them about the visit, but it was sure to be something fantastic.
After dinner, Littlejohn and Cromwell crossed the town square to the chambers of Mr. Hartley Ash, where the meetings of the various trusts were to be held at half-past seven.
The new town spread around in all its glory, illuminated in pale blue with here and there a dash of flood-lighting to advertise some feature of the place. Large bills announced a couple of political meetings for the imminent by-election, but few people showed any interest. You Need a Change This Time. Vote for Moody. Vote for Kelly. You Can Trust Him. Public Choice polls had already moved-in Moody by a large majority and everybody seemed to be leaving it at that.
Lights were burning in Hartley Ash’s office. Every room was illuminated as though a civic reception or a cocktail party were expected. When Littlejohn and Cromwell entered there was nobody there except the junior clerk who was reading a comic paper.
‘Mr. Ash’ll not be a minute.’
The first to arrive after them was Tattersall, who seemed surprised to find nobody else there.
‘You did say half-past seven, didn’t you?’
He was as breezy as ever.
‘I’ve sent round for Fred Hoop and told him you’d like to see him here about 7.45. The constable who called found him working at the Excelsior books and he didn’t seem at all glad of the invitation.’
They were cut short by the arrival of Mr. Ash. His face fell when he saw the three of them.
‘I don’t know how I’m going to explain the presence of you three at the meeting. It’s most irregular.’
‘Let me do it, then. I’ll take the responsibility.’
‘That’s all right, Superintendent Littejohn, but…’
More feet on the stairs. One of the climbers was panting as though overcome by the steps. Mrs. Sandman and Mrs. Hoop entered. It was Bella who was panting; Mrs. Sandman was quite at her ease. Bella put her hand on her copious breast as though ready to have a heart attack.
‘When are you going to have a lift put in here, Mr. Ash?’
And then she saw the rest of the visitors. She seemed surprised.
‘I thought this was a private meeting?’
‘We called to give you all some information. I hope you’ll agree to hold the meeting a little later when we’ve finished.’
Bella put her hand on her chest again.
‘Have they got him?’
‘Who?’
‘The murderer!’
Nobody answered. They had grown used to Bella’s outbursts. She was dressed up to the nines, fur coat and all, with all her jewellery scattered about her. Littlejohn couldn’t help thinking of her husband, Fred, sitting in his ramshackle office, black rings round his eyes and a suit that looked ready for the ragbag, trying to sort out the bankrupt finances of his firm. He turned to Ash and quietly spoke to him.
‘I
think you’d perhaps better ring Fred Hoop at the works and remind him that we’re waiting for him. That is, if they’ve not already cut off the telephone.’
Ash went in another room to do it.
Mrs. Sandman, in a less fashionable and expensive fur coat than Bella, looked far better dressed in it.
‘What are we all doing here, Superintendent? I thought it was a meeting of the trust directors.’
‘I’m sorry to bring you out on a night like this, and I hope you’ll not mind putting off the business meeting for a little time. I want to talk to all of you.’
She took it as a matter of course. Very different from Bella, whose scent was fighting a winning battle with the pervading aroma of Mr. Hartley Ash’s cigars.
‘I can’t get any reply from Excelsior. So, Hoop must be on his way.’
Bella’s usual husky voice rose sharply. She looked very annoyed.
‘Surely Fred isn’t coming here. What do you want with him?’
‘The same matter we wish to talk over with you, Mrs. Hoop.’
‘You’re surely not going to arrest anybody here?’
More interruptions. First, Fred Hoop, who took an awful time to climb the stairs. He sounded to be carrying a heavy burden on his back, but when he appeared in the doorway, he hadn’t even a hat on. The same old clothes, but he’d recently had a shave, which made him look a bit better. When he saw all the crowd of them there, he was acutely distressed. He chose his mother-in-law to address.
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t know there’d be ladies here. Or I’d have tidied myself up a bit. What’s it all about?’
He looked alarmed, as though, somehow, he was going to be accused of villainy, or else the final downfall of Excelsior was about to be sealed and all his work was going down the drain.
‘Has something more happened?’
Mrs. Sandman was obviously sorry for him.
‘No, Fred. Just sit down and compose yourself. It will be all right. The Superintendent is looking after things and wants to discuss them with us.’
‘What things?’
Bella was less merciful. She looked at Fred in disgust.
‘Wherever have you been…? And where did you get that suit from? It’s a disgrace.’
Poor Fred had no answer and sat down dejectedly. Hartley Ash couldn’t make out what was going on. He stood at his desk wondering what to do next.
‘Fetch some chairs,’ Cromwell said to him. Everyone but Fred was standing around. Ash offered his own armchair to Mrs. Sandman and went off to find the boy, who began to bring in chairs, one at a time, all different, as though he were collecting them from various parts of the building. Finally, they were all seated.
‘Are we ready? I wish to know what all this is about and then get away.’
Bella was trying to occupy the centre of the stage, as usual, but her mother, without speaking a word, seemed to dominate it.
‘We’re waiting for one more visitor, Mrs. Hoop…’
There was no time to say whom. From the noise on the stairs, they all guessed. Someone with a limping gait; a heavy foot on each stair and then a brief pause as the other foot was dragged up. And the thud of a stick punctuating the procession. Alderman Vintner stood in the doorway.
Fifteen
Account Rendered
Vintner was panting hard and looked furious. His lip was thrust out and he surveyed the assembled company like an angry bull wondering which to attack the first.
‘What’s all this about, Ash? I thought you wanted to see me privately, not to include me in a public meeting.’
‘The police asked me to invite you here, Mr. Alderman.’
Ash licked his lips, like a penitent schoolboy.
‘What for? This is a trick.’
He moved across to Tattersall, the man he thought he could bully, and stood over him.
‘Well? You’d better explain before I leave, which I’m going to do right away.’
Littlejohn intervened.
‘I’ll take the responsibility, Alderman. It was I who suggested this meeting. It’s to discuss the recent explosion at Excelsior works. Please sit down. I won’t take much of your time.’
‘It was you, was it? Somebody’s going to pay for this. I don’t propose to waste any of my time here bandying words with you. I’m going.’
He turned to the door.
‘Excuse me, Alderman. Don’t go. If you refuse to remain here, you’ll have to accompany us to the police station, which will be much more embarrassing for you. You have some important information which the police require. So have the rest of these people. Now, kindly sit down.’
Vintner halted and stood with his back to Littlejohn for a moment. Then he turned, his stick firmly gripped in his fist as though he was ready to rush in to the attack. His neck flushed and the veins on his forehead stood out swollen and livid.
‘Right. If you want to make a fool of yourself, now’s your chance. Once and for all. Then it will be my turn. I give you five minutes.’
He sat down heavily on the only remaining free chair. Not because he’d been told to do it, but because his leg was obviously paining him through climbing the stairs and then standing about.
‘Thank you.’
‘Don’t thank me. Get on with it.’
Mrs. Sandman was enjoying the little scene. She was smiling faintly as though happy to see Vintner deflated. The alderman caught her eye and glared at her. As for Bella, the presence of so many men affected her considerably. She titivated herself with a small lace handkerchief and Littlejohn felt sure that, if she’d had a chance, she’d have taken out the necessary powder and lipstick and tried to improve her already overdone make-up. She completely ignored Fred Hoop and, having chosen Mr. Hartley Ash as the most likely one to respond, gave him a secret smile.
‘Get on with it, then.’
Vintner, torn between keeping his dignity and tearing Littlejohn to pieces, thumped the carpet with his stick. The office boy thought it was a signal that he was needed and rushed in, still holding his comic paper.
‘Get out!’ shouted Mr. Ash, who was wishing he could follow him.
Littlejohn spoke rapidly and quietly. Vintner watched him with hostile looks.
‘Evingden was once a small town of a few thousand people. Then the authorities decided to build a new town and fill it with the overspill of London. The idea was, at first, a dead secret, known only to those negotiating, the London people, and the local council. Nevertheless, certain investment trusts suddenly began to buy land in the likely development sites with a view to a very large increase in values when the news became public. Those trusts were the Polydore Trust, the Deliverance Trust, and Pook’s Retreat Development Company…’
So far, the assembly hadn’t taken unusual interest; now they all sat up suddenly, except Fred Hoop, who looked as if he couldn’t imagine what Littlejohn was talking about. Vintner was feeling for his stick, ready to rise to his feet.
‘I’d advise you to stay, Alderman. This concerns you very much.’
‘I’ve no intention of leaving. It does interest me. I’m wondering what rubbish the police are going to talk about next. I’ll have all this aired at the next meeting of the Watch Committee. There’ll be a hullabaloo, I can assure you.’
‘I can see you’re all very interested. Some of you are directors of the various trusts. You, Mrs. Sandman, are perhaps surprised, and your daughter too. You were purely formal directors, receiving good dividends, and probably quite unaware of where they were coming from.’
Mrs. Sandman nodded.
‘We were content to leave the finances in the hands of our very competent advisers, Mr. Ash and the late Mr. Roper.’
‘Yes, we were. We’d no idea…’
Bella echoed her mother’s words and everybody seemed ready to tell her to shut up.
�
��The improved fortunes of the trusts and the Pook’s Retreat Company were due to Alderman Vintner…’
Vintner began to growl.
‘Yes, Alderman? I have full proofs of all I’m saying and you had better listen. The mainsprings of the trusts were Alderman Vintner, Roper, and the late J. W. Dodd. The alderman obviously couldn’t be associated publicly with the trusts. That would have given the game away. So he wasn’t a member of the boards, but provided the information and some of the finance…’
Vintner rose and made for the door again, but found Tattersall there with his back to it.
‘Move away. I’m going.’
‘Not until Superintendent Littlejohn says you may. If you try to leave, I’ll arrest you.’
‘On what grounds?’
Tattersall didn’t quite know, but he took a pot shot.
‘Corruption in public office.’
Vintner actually looked relieved. He returned to his seat.
‘I’m interested in your charges now. I’ll sit this out and then you’ll hear from me. Wild horses wouldn’t get me away now. Ash… you listening? You’re my lawyer, Ash. I shall need you as a witness…’
Littlejohn continued in the same quiet voice.
‘It was a precaution, too, against Dodd’s and Roper’s association with companies buying land in Evingden, to confuse the ownership of such companies. So, the first two companies were owned by the third. A form of remote control which put the inquisitive off the trail. We have then, Dodd spying out and buying available land; Roper seeking and providing the finance; and, most important of all, Alderman Vintner supplying information acquired in confidence from corporation committees about likely developments of the principal sites.’
Vintner was dead silent. He’d taken out a notebook and was busy writing down points raised by Littlejohn. Now and then, he actually looked pleased and raised his eyes and glanced at Ash as though bidding him to take special note of them. Ash gave him blank looks.
‘Mr. Ash, another director, dealt with the legal side of the land purchases.’
Ash looked pleased and relieved, as though he’d done something clever.
Surfeit of Suspects Page 18