The Loss of the Jane Vosper Read online

  ‘What do you want me to do?’ Bannister asked.

  ‘I want you, if you will, sir, to give me a note to your employees, asking them to assist me with any information in their power. Of course, you understand I can’t demand this officially, but it would be a considerable help to me if you could see your way to do so.’

  This was a request French frequently made under similar circumstances. Not only would such a letter be of practical value in dealing with the staff, but the principal’s willingness or otherwise to give it would be to a very real extent a test of his guilt or innocence. If he were guilty he would not willingly take such a risk.

  Bannister, however, agreed without hesitation. Calling in his secretary, he dictated a letter, telling the girl to have it typed at once.

  While the typing was in progress, French continued talking about the case. ‘Tell me, sir,’ he asked, ‘why you chose the Southern Ocean Company to carry your sets? I should have thought that with such a valuable cargo you would have employed one of the big liners, instead of this comparatively small Jane Vosper?’

  ‘That,’ Bannister answered, ‘I cannot answer officially, as I had nothing to do with the choice. It was Mr Dornford’s business, and he settled it. But,’ he went on dryly, ‘I can form an opinion as to the reason. Freights are naturally less on small cargo boats than on the large passenger liners; and, as far as safety is concerned, in a way the matter doesn’t greatly interest us. Our stuff, as you know, was covered by the Land and Sea Insurance people, and it was up to them to be satisfied as to the safety of the ship before issuing the policy.’

  ‘I understand that, sir,’ French agreed.

  ‘But, as a matter of fact,’ Bannister went on, ‘I don’t think a small cargo boat is a bit more likely to go under than a liner. Look at the great ships that have gone down, from the Titanic and the Waratah to the Vestris and that Ward Liner; I’ve forgotten her name. However, that’s only an opinion, and doesn’t affect your enquiry.’

  ‘The line that was chosen doesn’t really affect my enquiry, sir,’ French admitted. ‘I was asking only out of curiosity.’

  This, however, was not strictly true. French wanted to be sure there was no guilty understanding between Weaver Bannister’s and the shipping company. He therefore determined to put the question to Dornford also.

  He continued chatting about sea disasters till the letter appeared. Then, thanking Bannister for his help, he asked if he could see the export manager.

  To Dornford he explained his call as he had to Bannister. He produced his letter as evidence of the latter’s sympathy with his efforts, and asked if he might have all the details about the shipping of the sets.

  ‘What exactly does that mean?’ Dornford asked.

  ‘The history of the affair from beginning to end, sir, if you please. The choice of the shipping firm, the negotiations which passed between you, the arrangements about getting your stuff on board: everything connected with it.’

  ‘The man Sutton asked for and obtained something like that,’ Dornford answered. ‘But we’d better have Hislop in. It was really he who handled the business.’

  ‘Thank you. I should be obliged.’

  Dornford spoke through his desk telephone, then turned again to French. ‘I don’t know if you’re aware that I’m retiring shortly and Hislop is succeeding me. He is therefore carrying on under my general supervision, so that he may be quite qualified to take charge when I leave.’

  ‘I gathered so, sir, but I hadn’t heard it officially.’

  Further talk on the subject was interrupted by the entrance of Hislop. He nodded to French and asked was there something fresh on the carpet? French explained again.

  ‘Yes,’ Hislop said when he had finished, ‘Sutton asked for all that information. He got it, too. I don’t suppose he was actually entitled to it, but we realized his position and were anxious to help him.’

  ‘Then I hope you will help me in the same way,’ French suggested.

  Both men seemed agreeable to do what they could. Hislop’s statement, supplemented by the answers to a few questions, gave French all the information he wanted.

  It seemed that for years the Weaver Bannister firm had been sending its products to South America, though this was the first occasion these particular sets had been dispatched. They were indeed a new line which had just been got out, and a special representative had been sent to South America to introduce them. The resulting order of 350 was in the nature of a trial, and if the sets gave satisfaction there would be large repeats.

  For years the firm’s stuff had been carried by the Southern Ocean Company. It had been chosen in the first place because its freights were lower than those of the passenger lines, and secondly because it had a good name for the careful handling and prompt delivery of its cargoes.

  This good name had been amply justified so far as the Weaver Bannister people’s experience went, and the question of changing the shippers had not therefore arisen.

  The correspondence which had taken place was perfectly normal and commonplace. Hislop had advised the Southern Ocean Company that they had 350 cases, of about 2 feet by 2 feet by 4 feet, and weighing about 15 cwts apiece, for various South American ports, and asked for a quotation. This was received, it being pointed out that it included stowage, but excluded delivery on the quay of the London Docks. The price was agreed to, and then Hislop went into the question of transport between the works and the docks. He obtained quotations for road and rail transport, and found the rail was slightly the cheaper. This LMS quotation he had asked for in two forms, one for delivery on the quay and the other for delivery at the nearest LMS goods station, which proved to be that of Haydon Square. The reason he had done that was that he had had a canvass from a firm of carriers, Messrs Waterer & Reade, of Otwell Street, Cannon Street, soliciting a trial order. He thought the present would be a good case in which to see what they could do, so he asked them to quote for the carriage of the sets between Haydon Square and the quay. Their quotation was lower for this cartage than that of the railway, therefore the order was given to them.

  ‘That is to say,’ said French, ‘the LMS Company picked up the stuff here in the works on your private siding, and carried it to their Haydon Square Goods Station, then Waterer & Reade carted it from there to the London Docks and handed it over on the quay to the Southern Ocean people, who loaded it on the Jane Vosper?’

  ‘That’s correct,’ Hislop answered. ‘I made the actual arrangements, but each particular item of it was submitted to Mr Dornford and received his approval before action was taken.’

  ‘I understand, sir. Now I’d like to get the dates of all that before we go on.’

  ‘The dates of the correspondence we can supply without difficulty,’ Hislop answered. ‘Here they are.’ Then when French had got what he wanted, he went on, ‘The dates on which the stuff was actually moved I can’t give you here. You’ll have to go to the dispatch sheds. I’ll take you down presently.’

  ‘I think I may go at once,’ French returned. ‘You’ve very kindly told me all I want. Did Sutton get any more information than I have?’

  ‘Not as much,’ Hislop answered. ‘He didn’t ask about dates, for instance.’

  ‘Dates are useful for pulling a story together,’ French said easily. ‘I’m sure I’m obliged to you for what you’ve told me.’

  ‘Well, will you come along?’

  French found himself conducted downstairs to a large shed containing two railway sidings with a platform beside each, roadways for lorries and vans, Decauville tracks leading back into the buildings, and over all a large travelling crane. Goods and crates were everywhere, and a number of men were transshipping from the Decauville trucks to lorries and wagons. Hislop called up an elderly man in dungarees.

  ‘This is Holmes, the foreman packer,’ he explained. ‘Holmes, give Chief-Inspector French all the information he requires. If you want me again, chief-inspector, I shall be upstairs.’

  Hislop discre
etly vanished, and French wished the foreman good day. ‘I’m enquiring about Mr Sutton,’ he went on – ‘you know, the man who disappeared. I understand that he made some enquiries from you?’

  ‘Yes, sir, he was interested in a consignment of petrol sets we had sent out to South America.’

  ‘Quite. I’m repeating his investigation in the hope of finding that he went somewhere or did something that will explain his disappearance. Now will you please tell me just what you told him?’

  Holmes was willing enough. ‘First, sir, he asked to see a sample set and the case it was packed in. If you’ll come along I’ll show you.’

  The man led the way back into the depths of the building, following a Decauville track. Here, in another shed, the actual packing was going on. Machines of all kinds were being lifted into crates, or strengthened for transport with wooden frames. In one corner two men were packing sets. These consisted of an extremely compact-looking petrol motor, directly connected to a dynamo, both on the same base plate, and a separate switchboard. The cases were of 11⁄8-inch deal of good quality, very strongly jointed and bound with hoop-iron rings. The packing was shavings and sawdust.

  French was not an expert, but to his amateur eye everything looked of excellent quality. The machined parts of the sets, so far as these could be seen, were admirably finished, and the green-enamelled castings were smooth and even. The cases looked as if they would stand any amount of knocking about.

  French’s first care was to find out whether it would have been possible for inferior sets to have been loaded up. On this point he questioned indirectly the foreman, and when the latter excused himself to attend to another caller, the two packers. All three declared stoutly that all the sets they had loaded were of identical pattern, and that no cases contained anything different.

  French then turned to a more ticklish point – whether anything which could have contained a bomb could have been loaded as well. Here the enquiry involved a good deal more work. Determined to be thorough, French went back to the assembly shops and saw both foreman and mechanics concerned. However, he soon satisfied himself that it would have been impossible to place a bomb inside either motor or dynamo castings, unknown to several of the men. Apart from the assurance of all concerned that nothing of the kind had happened, French was satisfied that no one would have taken the risk of such an act in circumstances of such publicity.

  Similar detailed enquiries in the packing department led him to the same conclusion. Here, again, to have placed bombs in the cases would have been impossible without the connivance of at least six men. French interviewed all these, and he was convinced none of them had been party to any such action.

  Nor, he believed, could the bombs have been put in at night. Cases were not left half packed in the evening, lest on taking up the work again some item which should have been included might be forgotten. They were filled and closed down, and if there would not have been time to finish one before the closing hour, it was not begun, and the man in charge occupied himself in getting forward stuff for the next day. Nor could a packed case have been opened without leaving traces. Besides all this, the sheds were locked at night and there was a watchman on duty close by.

  French went into the whole question very thoroughly, and found himself forced to the conclusion that wherever the bombs had come from, it was not from the Weaver Bannister works. No doubt was left in his mind that 14 wagons of cases had left on the four days from the 13th to the 17th of September, containing 350 of the special sets and nothing else.

  The papers Hislop had shown him proved conclusively that the cash value of the sets was as stated, so that French felt himself entirely satisfied that the Weaver Bannister people had acted correctly throughout, and were in no way concerned in the fraud. Also, it seemed beyond question that nothing that Sutton had learnt here could have had any connection with his fate.

  Armed with the numbers of the wagons containing the cases, and the dates and hours at which they had left the works, French went to the stationmaster at Watford to pursue his enquiries. These cases had been consigned to the Haydon Square depot. How had they gone?

  On this point French couldn’t get a great deal of satisfaction. It seemed they were first brought into the Watford goods yard and there lay until the evening, when they were picked up by a train going south. They did not go direct to Haydon Square. They were thrown into different goods yards and remarshalled, and it was not till they had passed through a number of stages that they reached their destination. The stationmaster himself could not give the exact details.

  But on the essential point he was very clear. It would, in his opinion, have been absolutely out of the question for them to have been tampered with en route. While in the goods yard at Watford they were under the observation of a number of men, and it would have been impossible for anyone to have got into a wagon and opened and closed a case unseen. These conditions, further, obtained at all the stopping places, and the stationmaster supposed that even French would not suggest they had been opened while the wagons were actually moving.

  A consideration of the general possibilities led French to agree with him. To have attempted any interference with a case – much less four – while in the Railway Company’s charge would undoubtedly have been out of the question. First it would have been necessary to ascertain in which particular yard the wagons were at the given moment. Then this private and well-fenced yard would have had to be entered unseen. Once inside, the wagons would have had to be located, involving a search along, perhaps, many miles of sidings. Then, still unseen, the wagons would have had to be entered, four cases opened, the bombs put in, and the cases closed, again without leaving any trace. Lastly the criminal would have had to leave the yard in the same secret manner as he entered it.

  French saw that it simply could not have been done. As far as the rail portion of the journey was concerned, it was clear that Sutton’s conclusion had again been correct.

  ‘We’re not getting any forrader,’ he said to Carter as they stepped into a train for Euston.

  Carter agreed that things were not looking any too good and said that it was much more likely to have been the shipping people.

  ‘That’s not what we want to know,’ French reminded him. ‘It’s what happened to Sutton that we’re up against.’

  Carter agreed again and skilfully led the conversation to the question of lunch. He supposed they were going to the Haydon Square depot, and it would be a pity to have to break off in their enquiries there to have it.

  French, who was himself hungry, decided to notice the hint, and said he knew a restaurant near Euston that would suit.

  After lunch they went to Haydon Square. It looked a very old place with the sidings on ground level and the main line overhead. It was jammed with vehicles of all descriptions, waiting their turn at the cranes. French asked to see the agent.

  He proved civil and helpful. Sutton had been to see him and had been given all the information possible. But the agent was afraid it hadn’t helped him in his enquiry.

  ‘Well,’ said French, ‘I’m sorry to trouble you to go over it again, but I’m afraid that’s what I want.’

  The agent was quite willing to repeat himself. He said the wagons containing the cases came in during the early morning and were shunted beside the cranes before the yard opened for outside traffic. The cases were booked forward to the depot only, to be handed over to Messrs Waterer & Reade, for cartage to the docks. Two of Messrs Waterer & Reade’s 5-ton lorries were on the job, and the cases were loaded on these lorries and taken away by them. He admitted he had not known these details at the time, but had obtained them for Sutton.

  This was convincing, but not convincing enough for French. He went down to the sheds, saw the foreman who had assisted with the unloading, and questioned him thoroughly. His replies, however, put the matter beyond doubt. Not only were all the cases removed on the lorries, but it would have been utterly impossible for anyone to have tampered with them while
at Haydon Square.

  Every step in this chain of investigation was making more and more perplexing the two puzzles with which French was dealing. Every step made the blowing up of the Jane Vosper more inexplicable, and the disappearance of John Sutton more unaccountable. It was true French had still to go into the cartage to the docks and the loading on to the ship, but it was unlikely, on the face of it, that the explanation of either mystery would be found there. It was, indeed, beginning to look as if a second investigation into the actions of the Southern Ocean people would be necessary.

  But Sutton surely hadn’t had time to make such an investigation? Surely it was while still engaged on the Weaver Bannister enquiry that he had met his fate? French put the point to Carter, and was surprised to find that he wholly disagreed. Sutton, in the sergeant’s opinion, must have switched over to the question of Southern Ocean guilt. ‘We’re wasting time with these sets,’ Carter continued. ‘The thing was done by the steamer people – must have been. At least that’s what I think, sir,’ he added hastily.

  ‘You may be right,’ French admitted. ‘However we’ve got to finish what we’re at. What’s the address of these blessed carriers?’

  ‘Ten Otwell Street, off Cannon Street,’ Carter answered, glancing at his notebook.

  Twenty minutes later the two men reached the premises, which bore a large sign: ‘Waterer & Reade. General Carriers.’ The office facing the street was small, but through a covered entry they could see an enormous yard, stretching back into mysterious distances and filled with vans and lorries of all shapes and sizes. French pushed his way into the office and at a window marked ‘Enquiries’ asked if he might see the manager. His official card worked wonders, and without delay they were shown into that gentleman’s private room.

  Mr Keene was a sharp-looking man with an aggressive jaw, thin, clean-shaven lips, and very light-blue eyes. He greeted his visitors briefly and asked what he could do for them.