Peter Lovesey - Waxwork

Over a solitary beer that evening he had concluded that whatever the outcome of this inquiry, there was nothing in it for him. If he proved beyond doubt that Miriam Cromer had made a false confession and been convicted of a crime she did not commit, the embarrassment to the judiciary, the Home Office, the police did not bear thinking about. The hullabaloo would be heard all over England. Nobody would thank him. And if his inquiry upheld the verdict of the court, it would simply underline the thoroughness of Waterlow’s work. In handing on this case, Chief Inspector Jowett had played his meanest trick.

Tuesday morning found him in the Strand, at the office of the Portrait Photographers’ League. He had decided to make an independent check of Howard Cromer’s movements on the day of the murder.

The League shared the second floor with an insurance broker. Cribb’s knock was answered by a worried-looking clerk in a thin suit of faded black and a frayed collar.

‘Yes?’

‘This is the Portrait Photographers’ League?’

‘Yes.’

‘Excellent. And who are you?’

‘Wallis, sir. The clerk.’

‘Well, Wallis, may I come in?’

‘But I don’t know-’

‘A member,’ Cribb said with plausible stiffness. ‘There is no objection, I trust, to a member calling?’

‘This is only the office,’ Wallis said, keeping a firm hold on the door. ‘Members generally meet at the Burlington Fine Arts Club, to which the League is affiliated. That is in Savile Row.’

‘That’s no good to me,’ said Cribb. ‘You are the man who can help me. You do have the minutes of the Annual General Meeting here?’

‘Somewhere, but I am not certain-’

‘Then kindly produce them, would you? I don’t have a lot of time.’

The clerk took a deep breath and said, ‘That really isn’t possible this morning.’

‘Not possible?’ said Cribb in a shocked voice. ‘Not possible for a member to inspect the minutes of the A.G.M.? Are you familiar with the Constitution?’

A moment later he was in the office with a copy of the minutes in his hand.

A theory he had gently nurtured for two days took a turn for the worse as he read, ‘The Annual General Meeting at the Metropole Hotel, Brighton, 12th March, 1888. Owing to the indisposition of the Chairman, the Vice-Chairman presided. Opening the meeting, he welcomed the sixty-three members present.’

He asked Wallis, ‘Were you at Brighton this year?’

‘I was, sir.’

‘It says here that the Vice-Chairman presided. That is correct?’

‘Quite correct, sir.’

‘The meeting opened in the morning, I believe. There was no delay?’

‘No delay, sir. It started sharp at eleven.’

If Howard Cromer had opened the A.G.M. at eleven, he must have left Kew soon after nine that morning.

‘How long did it go on?’

‘It should tell you in the minutes, sir. Some time after four, as I recollect. There was an adjournment for lunch, of course. That was between one o’clock and half past two.’

‘Mr Cromer presided for the whole of the meeting, did he?’

Wallis frowned. ‘Mr Cromer, sir?’

‘Howard Cromer-the Vice-Chairman.’

‘No, sir. Mr Cromer did not take the chair.’

Cribb held out the minutes. ‘This states quite clearly that the Vice-Chairman presided. Mr Cromer is the Vice-Chairman, is he not?’

‘He is, to be sure,’ said the clerk, ‘But at the start of the A.G.M. he was not. If you recall the agenda, sir, one of the final items of business was the election of the new committee. Mr Cromer is the new Vice-Chairman. Mr Dartington-Fisher, of the outgoing committee, presided. The new committee were elected towards the end of the afternoon.’

Cribb’s eye raced down the minutes. ‘Election of Committee for 1888/9. Messrs. D. C. Turner (Chairman), H. Cromer (Vice-Chairman) and W. Hollinghurst (Secretary) were elected unopposed. Mr J. Templeton and Mr P. Hartley-Smith were nominated for the position of Treasurer, Mr Templeton being elected by forty-seven votes to thirty-one.’

So Howard Cromer had been in Brighton on the afternoon of the murder-or had he?

‘These nominations: were they made in advance of the meeting?’

‘Naturally, sir. If you recall the Constitution-’

‘Were these gentlemen present at the meeting?’

‘Assuredly,’ said Wallis, toppling Cribb’s theory with a word.

‘You’re positive?”

‘If it is Mr Cromer you are thinking of, I spoke to him myself at the conclusion of the meeting, sir.’

With a click of the tongue, Cribb resumed his reading of the minutes. He wanted to see if there was any evidence that Cromer had been present at Brighton in the morning.

‘Here’s a queer thing,’ he presently said. ‘The Treasurer was elected by forty-seven votes to thirty-one. Would you check my mental arithmetic, Wallis? Forty-seven and thirty-one comes to more than sixty-three, doesn’t it? It states at the beginning that there were sixty-three members in attendance at this A.G.M.’

‘Sixty-three in the morning, sir. A number of members were unable to be present for that session from pressure of business. The election is generally held over until the afternoon to ensure that members arriving late have an opportunity to register their votes.’

Possibilities mounting again, Cribb asked, ‘You wouldn’t recollect who arrived late?’

Wallis shook his head. ‘My memory doesn’t go back to March, sir. Not unless’-he reached for a box-file-‘they wrote to the secretary advising him that they were unable to be present in the morning.’

Cribb waited while the clerk sorted through the contents of the file.

‘A lot of these are simple apologies for absence. I dare say you sent one yourself, sir. Now here are some pinned together. These, I think-’

‘May I?’ Cribb whipped the small sheaf of letters out of the clerk’s hand and riffled through them. ‘Ah.’

The first piece of new evidence to come his way. On headed notepaper from Park Lodge, dated Sunday, 11th March, 1888, Howard Cromer had written:

‘My dear Thorne,

This is to advise you that I am unfortunately prevented by another commitment from attending the first session of the A.G.M. tomorrow. In tendering my apology, I assure you that I shall be present after lunch and that I wish my nomination for the Committee to stand.

Sincerely,

H. Cromer’

‘You won’t need this,’ said Cribb, pocketing it. The others he handed back.

‘Just a moment, sir!’

‘Regrettably,’ said Cribb, ‘I haven’t another moment to spare. Good day to you, Wallis.’

Out in the Strand, he started whistling. This was a thankless assignment, but it was still pleasing to have picked up something Waterlow had missed. As he approached the Proud Peacock, he decided to treat himself to a pint of his favourite brew.

Alone at a table under the window, he took out the letter and read it again. He was entitled to feel elated. It was a development.

… I am unfortunately prevented by another commitment … There was no mention on the file at Scotland Yard of Howard Cromer having another commitment. The information did not incriminate him, but it destroyed the alibi everyone had assumed he possessed. He had not been in Brighton on the morning of the murder. That innocent-sounding expression ‘another commitment’ could have a sinister meaning.

Cribb saw no difficulty in casting Howard Cromer in the role of murderer. The motive Miriam had supplied would serve equally well for him. If she had decided, after all, to confide in him, tell him Perceval had been blackmailing her for months, he might well have resorted to murder. Anyone threatening to blight Cromer’s career with scandal about his wife was touching him on the raw. Ambition and blind devotion made a dangerous combination. In Cribb’s judgment, Cromer was a man capable of resolving the problem ruthlessly.