The Loss of the Jane Vosper Read online

  Jeffrey leaned back in his chair, also with an expression of relief. ‘That’s very satisfactory,’ he declared. ‘I should like to express my appreciation of the way you have met me. As to Sutton, I don’t think you will have any fault to find. He’s a good man, tactful and discreet. He’ll carry out his job with the minimum of annoyance.’

  ‘I should be glad to have the affair cleared up,’ Bannister said, passing his hand wearily across his forehead. ‘Very glad indeed. Though we are not in any way responsible for what has happened, all this has been a great worry to me. Until the truth is known there is bound to be – well, I needn’t go into that; but it’s unpleasant for all concerned. I confess I was disappointed with the enquiry.’

  ‘It wasn’t very illuminating, was it?’

  Bannister, it appeared, had been present and they began to compare impressions. Jeffrey had taken an instinctive liking to the man, and before he left they had grown almost cordial.

  Jeffrey returned to his own office in a rather despondent mood. His interview had made him more certain than ever that the Weaver Bannister people were innocent of the fraud, and he could see no possibility of his company escaping payment. And this would be nothing short of a disaster. It would mean a serious reduction in the dividend, which would have a far-reaching effect on their general prosperity. It would mean a set-back in his own personal finances, a set-back which he could ill afford. Altogether the outlook was far from rosy.

  For the next two days Jeffrey was engaged with other work and had not time to give much attention to the Weaver Bannister claim. But at intervals his thoughts slipped back to the subject. Particularly he wondered what Sutton was doing. The one unsatisfactory point about Sutton was that he was extraordinarily secretive. It was hard to get him to make regular reports of his proceedings. He seemed to have a rooted objection to describing his activities – until he had attained a result. Then admittedly he reported it promptly enough. But even then he only gave the result itself, omitting all reference to the steps by which he had reached it. ‘From information received’ was his favourite phrase, though he had never been in the official force. With the object of keeping in touch with what was going on, Jeffrey had instituted a daily report. But Sutton, while religiously sending it in, had filled it with such remarks as, ‘Working on the — case,’ or ‘Visiting Scotland Yard relative to Mr —,’ or ‘Investigating at —’ So Jeffrey found himself but little further on.

  On the Tuesday morning, however, he came face to face with Sutton in the office corridor. ‘Come and let’s hear what you’re doing,’ he buttonholed him. ‘Got anything interesting yet?’

  With apparent unwillingness Sutton followed him into the office. ‘I’m not quite ready to report yet, sir,’ he answered when he was seated before the great table desk. ‘I hope to be able to do so in a day or two. But I can tell what I’ve done up to the present.’

  This was an unexpected concession. Jeffrey glanced keenly at the man. He had a slight air of eagerness, sufficiently foreign to his usual undemonstrative manner to make Jeffrey wonder if he really had discovered more than he had admitted. But his statement was commonplace enough.

  He said that the Weaver Bannister people had been sympathetic to his enquiry. They had given him all the facilities for obtaining information that he required, and he had made an exhaustive investigation in their works. He was entirely satisfied that the 350 sets sent were of the standard quality, and also that they really did sell for £350 apiece. Moreover, they were correctly packed in their crates and were dispatched by rail from the works. There was no doubt whatever that the full value of the claim had been sent out.

  He had then gone to the London Docks, and he was equally certain that the crates had been correctly received and stowed on the Jane Vosper and that the vessel had sailed with them on board.

  When at the works he had seen Mr Dornford, the head of the export department, and Mr Hislop, his chief assistant, who had given evidence at the enquiry. They had supplied him with details of how the stuff had been transported from the works to the ship. He had not yet had time to trace the journey and he would of course do so, but in his opinion it would be a mere matter of form, as during the journey nothing could have been done in the way of tampering with the crates.

  Here Jeffrey interrupted him to ask what kind of man Dornford was. It seemed he was old and shortly due, so Sutton had heard, to retire. Hislop seemed to have the real power and it was said he would succeed his chief. Both were exceedingly civil, and Sutton repeated that they had given him every facility he could possibly have wanted.

  Then came the explanation of the detective’s eager look. ‘I don’t know if I should mention it, sir,’ he said with some hesitation, ‘but I heard a chance rumour that interested me quite a bit. I heard that the Southern Ocean people were going to break up the Jane Vosper after she had completed this voyage. Of course, I don’t know if it’s true; but, if it is, £20,000 would seem a tidy sum to get for her. I don’t want to say too much about this at present, but I hope to get in touch with a man who may be able to confirm.’

  This was worse and worse. If the rumour were well founded, here was undoubtedly a motive. Not perhaps a very adequate motive, but still the first glimmering of a motive that they had come on.

  ‘What would she be worth for breaking up?’ Jeffrey asked.

  ‘I don’t know, sir. I should guess about £5000.’ This was the figure Jeffrey had in his own mind, and if it were correct the fraud should bring the Southern Ocean people in about £15,000. Would a shipping company of their standing, particularly with a manager of the calibre of Stewart Clayton, commit so serious and dangerous a fraud for so paltry a sum? Jeffrey couldn’t believe it. No, it was out of the question.

  ‘Did you get the yarn on good authority?’ he asked presently.

  ‘No, sir, I didn’t. It was only a couple of stevedores I heard talking. And I couldn’t get from them where they had heard it. It may be only nonsense. But, of course, those sort of fellows do pick up things pretty quickly.’

  Jeffrey shrugged. The idle talk of stevedores was not a very convincing source of information. At the same time the idea was supported by more than their talk. It certainly looked as if the Weaver Bannister people were innocent. And, if so, no other alternative than the guilt of the steamer firm seemed possible.

  For some time the two men discussed the matter, and it was finally arranged that Sutton should continue his investigations to cover the journey of the crates from Watford to the London Docks. He was not to make a formal investigation into the rumour about the breaking up of the Jane Vosper, but he was to keep his ears open, and if he could pick up any relevant information, so much the better.

  That afternoon Jeffrey rang up the four other insurance firms interested to ask if any of them had learnt anything which might help in the general dilemma. None of them, however, had done so, and in the tones of each he recognized the growing belief that they should have to pay.

  That night Jeffrey found it hard to sleep. His business had taken a grip of his mind, and, as usually happens at night, it was not its optimistic side that was uppermost. For some reason also Sutton dominated his thoughts. It occurred to him that he had omitted to speak to the man on another claim which, though small, had been giving him a lot of worry. It was the case of a shop fire, and there were reasons to suspect arson. Sutton had been going into the affair, but had been taken off it to attend the Jane Vosper enquiry. Now the negotiations had come to a head, and Sutton’s evidence was required. Jeffrey noted mentally that he would have to get the man back to the office on the following day, so that the claim might be dealt with.

  It was with this object that, when Jeffrey had completed his letters and routine business next day, he telephoned to the detective’s home to tell him to drop what he was doing and call for further instructions. But this, as it turned out, was only to learn of a fresh worry.

  Mrs Sutton replied. She said that she had just been about to ring up the Land an
d Sea. Her husband had not returned home on the previous night, and she was rather anxious about him. She wondered if Jeffrey knew where he was.

  Jeffrey felt slightly exasperated. However, he was outwardly sympathetic and reassuring. He did not know Sutton’s whereabouts, but he had seen him on the previous day, and everything about him was then normal. He had said that he was going out in the afternoon to the Weaver Bannister works at Watford. If Mrs Sutton liked, he, Jeffrey, would ring up the works and find out if he had done so.

  Mrs Sutton said that she would be greatly obliged. It was quite unlike her husband to remain away at night without letting her know.

  Jeffrey accordingly got through to Mr Bannister. Bannister knew nothing about Sutton, but he said he would make enquiries as to whether he had been seen on the previous afternoon, and reply as soon as possible.

  A few minutes later he did so. Yes, Sutton had called at the works on the previous afternoon. He had seen their Mr Hislop of the export department. It was with this department Sutton had dealt in his enquiries about the sets for South America, and it was on this same business he had called. Hislop stated that Sutton had asked about the transport of the sets from the works to the docks, and he, Hislop, had given him all the information in his power. It happened that Hislop had to go down to the City that afternoon, and the two men left in company. They had gone as far as Baker Street together, and then their ways diverged.

  Jeffrey at once repeated this information to Mrs Sutton. But instead of reassuring her, it seemed to make her more apprehensive. She repeated that it was very unlike John and that she didn’t like it at all. Jeffrey didn’t altogether like it, either, though he didn’t say so. Instead he told Mrs Sutton he was sure she would soon have some news and asked her to ring him up again later and let him know if she had heard anything.

  Though Jeffrey thought the affair surprising, he did not really believe there could be anything wrong, and in the pressure of other business it slipped from his mind. But after lunch he was reminded of it when Mrs Sutton was shown into his room.

  She was a small, dark, vivacious woman with a capable face and a pleasant manner. Jeffrey had seen her on one or two previous occasions and had been attracted by her lively conversation and bright smile.

  But this afternoon she wasn’t smiling. Her features, instead, were pale and drawn with anxiety. Eagerly she asked if Jeffrey had heard anything more.

  ‘John’s always so careful,’ she went on, ‘to let me know if he’s making any change in his plans. He seldom stays away at night unexpectedly, but if he does he always rings me up. It’s not even as if we weren’t on the telephone: we must be for his job. I can’t understand it. I’m perfectly certain he would have let me know if he could.’

  Jeffrey murmured sympathetically.

  ‘And last night in particular, he had an engagement. He was going to a debating society that he’s fond of. He was going to take part in the debate. It’s not that he was so very specially keen on it, but all the same he wouldn’t have missed it if he could have helped. I’ve been to see the secretary. They were expecting him last night, and he didn’t turn up or send any message.’

  For the first time the possibility of something serious having happened entered Jeffrey’s mind. If all this were true, as of course it must be, the circumstances were more disquieting than he had realized. It was easy to suggest reasons why the detective should have been prevented from returning home, but it was scarcely possible to explain why, if nothing were wrong, he had not sent his wife a message.

  Jeffrey moved uneasily. ‘He might have met with some slight accident,’ he suggested slowly. ‘He might have been taken to a hospital and they mightn’t have yet got in touch with you.’

  Mrs Sutton shook her head. ‘No,’ she answered, ‘I thought of that. But I don’t believe it’s possible. I happen to know that his name and address and telephone number were in his pocketbook. If he had been taken to hospital I’d have heard of it.’

  Her earnestness impressed Jeffrey. He had to admit to himself that things were not looking at all well. He wondered where Sutton could have gone after parting with Hislop at Baker Street. Then he remembered what at first had slipped his memory – the rumour about the breaking up of the Jane Vosper. Had the man gone down to the shipping office in the hope of learning something about that?

  In Mrs Sutton’s presence he rang up the Southern Ocean manager. He was trying to get in touch with his inspector, Mr Sutton. Could Mr Clayton kindly inform him if he was there?

  Clayton replied himself. He would have enquiries made, and answer in a few minutes.

  While waiting, Jeffrey tried the London Docks. Here there was a similar delay, but presently there were replies from both places. Sutton had not been seen at either of them for a couple of days.

  All this did not tend to reassure Mrs Sutton, who, Jeffrey could see, was on the verge of tears. She was obviously acutely uneasy, and at last Jeffrey began to think that murmured reassurances were only exasperating her. He turned to her and gravely asked her if she was afraid of anything?

  In her turn she hesitated, as if she didn’t like to put her thoughts into words. ‘It’s his job,’ she said at last. ‘God knows he’s been fair and straight with people – I mean people suspected of crime. But in his job you can’t escape making enemies, and that’s a fact. Because of what he’s done – done rightly and in the course of his job, I mean -many a man’s gone to prison. They won’t forget that, some of them.’

  ‘I don’t know that you’re right there, Mrs Sutton,’ Jeffrey protested. ‘It’s not a subject I know much about, but I have read more than once that criminals don’t resent the efforts of police and detectives. They recognize they are not following them out of malice, but only because it’s their job. I see, of course, what you’re hinting at, but I really don’t think you need have any fears on that score.’

  ‘Then what has happened?’ she returned quickly. ‘Is there any other way in which you can account for it?’

  This proved a very searching question. Jeffrey found it extremely hard to tackle. For some minutes they discussed it, and then he asked her plump and plain if she would like him to report the matter to the police?

  It was obvious at once that this was what she wanted. While she had hesitated about making her fears public, she was now so frightened that she would only be satisfied if some drastic action were taken. Jeffrey stretched out his hand to the telephone, then withdrew it and turned to her.

  ‘His job must have brought him into contact with the police,’ he said. ‘Is there anyone, say at Scotland Yard, who knows him, or with whom he was friendly?’

  ‘There were a number,’ she answered. ‘There was one officer at the Yard he knew well; but, of course, since his promotion he hasn’t seen so much of him. That’s Inspector French – now Chief-Inspector.’

  Jeffrey nodded as he again picked up his receiver. He asked for Whitehall 1212, and then after a short delay went on: ‘Is Chief-Inspector French in the building…? Yes, please put me through. Mr Jeffrey, manager of the Land and Sea Insurance Company.’

  There was a short further delay, then a strange voice said, ‘Chief-Inspector French speaking.’

  Jeffrey told his story and the strange voice said, ‘Very good, sir, I’ll look into it. Perhaps you would ask Mrs Sutton to wait at your office till someone arrives. It would be quicker to see her there than elsewhere, and I presume you could grant the use of a room?’

  Jeffrey said he would be pleased to do so, and French replied that someone would be sent at once.

  -6-

  FRENCH TAKES CHARGE

  Though Chief Detective-Inspector French had replied in a formal way to Jeffrey’s call, he was distressed enough by the message.

  He had not been exactly intimate with Sutton, but he had met him in connection with various cases and had developed a genuine liking and respect for him. Though Sutton had never been in the police force, he was a fellow detective, working through different machinery
it was true, but still working towards the same great end as was French himself. If anything had happened to him, French would treat it almost as a personal matter.

  And it might well be that something had happened to him. Those guilty of insurance frauds were as dangerous a type of criminal as any other, and men in Sutton’s position were much more vulnerable to attack than were the official police. They worked alone. They had behind them no great organization such as that which sustained French and his colleagues. Their discoveries were much more likely to be known only to themselves than in the case of a Yard officer, who worked as a member of a team rather than as an individual. Correspondingly their ‘removal’ was much more likely to safeguard a dangerous secret than would the murder of a policeman.

  Another reason why French took a personal interest in the matter was that on one occasion when they were both engaged on the same case, Sutton had taken him home to supper. There French had met Mrs Sutton and her two daughters. He had liked all three, and now that they were in trouble he felt it was up to him to see that everything possible was done to help them.

  French was feeling very keen and fit. It was not long since he had returned from his annual holiday – long enough to have got rid of the holiday slackness, but not long enough to have lost the benefit of the change.

  He had had a splendid holiday, one of the best he had ever taken. He had not gone to Amsterdam, as he had intended at the conclusion of the case of the jewellery stolen from Nornes, Limited. A friend had recommended south-western France, and he and Mrs French had gone on a General Steam Navigation boat to Bordeaux, and from there had worked south to Biarritz and along the Pyrenees as far as Bagnères-de-Bigorre. They had spent a few days at Cauteret and had loved exploring the beautiful valley and its surrounding hills, and they had been thrilled by the drive up into the mountains to the Cirque de Gavarnie. But it had been hot in the plain: too hot for pleasure.