Sarah Caudwell - The Sirens Sang of Murder

“How fortunate,” said Basil, “that the judge in question was Arthur Welladay. Other judges, perhaps, might be distracted by the idea of you engaged in youthful dalliance from the learning and gravity of your arguments, but since Arthur never in any case pays any attention to any argument addressed to him on behalf of the taxpayer, it will make no difference. I wonder what he’s doing in the Channel Islands. Making sure they exist, perhaps — on the last occasion that I appeared before him, he seemed to be accusing me of inventing them as part of a tax avoidance scheme. So I offered to put in evidence of their existence, and he became rather cross with me.”

“Basil,” said Selena with gentle severity, “you really ought not to tease him, you know.”

“My dear Selena, I’ve been teasing Arthur Welladay for twenty-five years, and it’s far too late to break myself of the habit. He was just the same at the Bar — wherever the Revenue position was most plainly indefensible, there was Arthur defending it. And he wouldn’t touch anything that looked like an artificial avoidance scheme — not even the innocent little discretionary settlements that the rest of us were earning our living from in those days. Poor Arthur, it’s really very sad — if it hadn’t been for that, he might have been quite a good lawyer. He is a member, as of course you know, of a distinguished legal family and has a by no means contemptible intellect, but I’m afraid this obsession with tax evasion has seriously impaired his judgment. He’s really hardly rational on the subject.”

“To return,” said Julia, “to the matter of Cantrip’s telex, the thing that’s worrying me—”

“Have you any idea,” said Ragwort, “why this Jersey advocate should suspect you of unorthodox tastes?”

“Possibly,” said Julia, “because I have been to some trouble to persuade him to. Edward Malvoisin is apparently under the impression that every woman he meets is secretly yearning for him to make advances to her. If his advances are rejected, he regards this as merely confirming that the yearning is indeed secret. So far as I’m concerned he is mistaken — if I’d known him when he was twenty-five or so, I daresay I might have thought him quite good-looking, but he has the kind of looks which tend to become rather fleshy and florid by the late thirties. Not my sort of thing at all. On the other hand…”

“Yes?” said Ragwort, raising an eyebrow.

“On the other hand, Stingham and Grynne use his firm for most of their work in Jersey, and quite often instruct me in connection with the same matters, so I was reluctant to express myself with the degree of rudeness which would evidently be required to persuade him of his error. I thought the tactful thing would be to give the impression that my repugnance was general rather than particular.”

“That was very sensible of you,” said Selena. “How thoughtless of Cantrip to spoil it.”

“Isn’t it?” said Julia. “But that isn’t what I’m worrying about, either. The thing about Cantrip’s telex that I find really disturbing is the threatened arrival of his Uncle Hereward.”

Colonel Hereward Cantrip had served his country with great distinction in the Second World War, having twice been awarded the DSO, and now lived in well-earned retirement on the South Coast. On those happily infrequent occasions, however, when the widowed sister who kept house for him decided for some reason of her own to dispatch him to London for a few days, he was considered by the rest of the family to become the responsibility of his nephew. Julia had once or twice at such times been prevailed on to assist in his entertainment, and would have been content to do so again. It was, she said, no more than one friend might reasonably ask of another. To undertake the task, alone and unaided and for some indefinite period, of keeping him out of trouble was quite another matter. Trouble, so far as Julia had been able to discover, was what Colonel Cantrip had spent a lifetime of more than seventy years getting into. To keep him out of it, she felt, would require a woman of sterner resolve than herself.

“I don’t think,” said Ragwort, “that you should allow yourself to become unduly anxious. After all, there’s no sign of the old gentleman so far, and we know that Cantrip is appearing in West London County Court on Tuesday afternoon. So he can’t be away for more than four days.”

Ragwort has a touching confidence that things will turn out as they ought.

EXTRACT FROM THE GUIDE TO COMFORTABLE TAX PLANNING

Jersey: The largest and most southerly of the Channel Islands. Lying off the Cherbourg Peninsula and geographically forming part of France, the Islands were included in the dominions of William of Normandy at the time of his invasion of England in 1066. His successors to the English crown, though compelled to relinquish their possessions in mainland France, retained suzerainty over the Islands in their capacity as Dukes of Normandy. In recognition of the Islands’ independent status, and of their vital strategic importance during periods of conflict with the Continent, they have always enjoyed immunity from all forms of United Kingdom taxation. In the Second World War they were the only British territory to suffer occupation by the Germans.

Population: 80,000. Area: 5.5 miles by 9.5. Capital: St. Helier. Principal industries: Agriculture, tourism, and financial services. Access: By air 1 hour from London or Paris; by sea 1 hour from St. Malo, 8 hours from Southampton. Recommended season for meetings: April to September.

Note 1: An unsuitable choice of tax haven for those who have been advised to avoid rich foods….

(The Guide to Comfortable Tax Planning , which contains much invaluable advice on such questions as where to stay in Vaduz, eat in Gibraltar, or buy a novel in the British Virgin Islands, which flights to Luxembourg offer free champagne, what to see in Nassau, do in Vanuatu, wear in Panama, drink in the Netherlands Antilles, and on no account do in the Turks and Caicos, is unfortunately not available to the general public: it has been compiled by certain members of the Tax Bar for the benefit of no one but themselves, and the few copies in existence are subject to constant revision by means of notes circulated among the contributors. I have the kind permission of the editors, however, to quote those passages which may be of assistance to my readers in connection with my present narrative.)

Having devoted the following Monday, almost without interruption, to my researches in the Public Record Office, I was by evening in much need of refreshment. It was a few minutes after half past five that I made my way to the Corkscrew, expecting it to be some time before I was joined by any of my friends. I found Julia, however, already there, though she claimed to be still working. She had thought that a glass of wine would prove an aid to the construction of a particularly opaque provision of the new Finance Bill. She could not permit herself, therefore, to engage in any immediate sociability. In the meantime, she suggested, it might amuse me to read the telex messages which she had received from Cantrip in the course of the weekend.

TELEX M. CANTRIP GRAND HOTEL ST. HELIER TO J. LARWOOD 63 NEW SQUARE TRANSMITTED 6:30 P.M. FRIDAY 27TH APRIL

Look here, Larwood, what I want to know is why everyone here thinks I’m so frightfully witty when I haven’t made any jokes. Is everyone loopy in this tax-planning business?

The thing I’m meant to be advising on is a thing called the Daffodil Settlement — don’t ask me why it’s called that, it’s some sort of code name. If you think that’s peculiar, wait till you hear the rest of it.