Terry Minahan - The Adventures of Thadeus Burke Vol 1

Thadeus telephoned Inspector Jackson. ‘I think that you will find that our Mr Whelan was shot by a Major Bennet. If you would care to pop round to my office, either this afternoon or tomorrow morning, I will give you the full details.’

‘Do you have any evidence?’ enquired the inspector.

‘No, no, that will be your job. It shouldn’t take long,’ advised Thadeus.

‘I’ll be round in about fifteen minutes,’ said the CID man.

Thadeus pretended to take an interest in the work that James was doing; had a look round Ethel’s desk; asked about post, and generally wasted fifteen minutes. Thadeus had returned to his desk and was trying to look busy. Inspector Jackson appeared right on time.

‘Good afternoon, inspector,’ said Thadeus.

The inspector responded with, ‘I think this is were I say, “Perhaps you would like to start at the beginning”. Does that sound like a good idea?’

‘Right!’ said Thadeus, continuing. ‘Firstly, I am privileged to hold three pieces of information that you do not have. One, Mr Whelan was a Justice of the Peace and quite often acted in that role as a witness to various documents. I understand that these were usually company documents presented by company secretaries, or leases for offices, but occasionally wills. He had his own contacts for this work but often it was referrals made to him by Mr Hargreaves, a solicitor in St Clement’s Lane. Secondly, Mr Whelan took The Times every day and kept the back-copies, for at least about six months, in that cupboard behind you. In there at present are copies going back to May of this year.’

The inspector turned and glanced briefly at the cupboard in question.

‘And, thirdly and most interestingly,’ continued Thadeus, ‘is that in that cupboard there is no copy of The Times for last Friday. And, being the observant policeman that you are you will have seen that there was no copy of Friday’s Times on his desk when we found him on Saturday morning.’ Thadeus paused momentarily, awaiting the inspector’s comments but none were forthcoming.

Inspector Jackson never interrupted a witness in full flow – it was foolish to risk loosing potentially vital information. Experience told him there was more to come.

‘I can confirm that there was no copy of the said newspaper anywhere in this office.’

The inspector stalled for a couple of seconds. ‘So you went out this morning, up to Fleet Street, and obtained the missing evidence,’ he said simply.

‘Actually my assistant James obtained a copy at lunchtime and this is what I found on the obituaries page.’ Thadeus handed the relevant page to Inspector Jackson.

The inspector read through the writing, unhurried and carefully. ‘I think we can say that your accusations made over the telephone are, to say the least, a rather imaginative hypothesis.’

‘True!’ responded Thadeus. ‘But a few simple telephone conversations by you will either dissolve the affair, or lead to a prompt arrest. Here is Mr Hargreaves’ telephone number.’ He handed over a piece of paper, pushing his own telephone across to the inspector’s side of the desk.

A few minutes later and the inspector was put through. ‘Good afternoon Mr Hargreaves, my name is Jackson, I am a police inspector with the Criminal Investigation Department at Scotland Yard.’

This opening gambit made Thadeus sit up.

The CID man continued. ‘I am investigating the death of a Mr Whelan, a man that I think you know and may have done business with.’

There was silence in the office while Mr Hargreaves spoke and the inspector listened.

‘Yes that is exactly the situation as I understand it. The question that I particularly want to put to you at the moment is are you aware whether or not Mr Whelan witnessed a will for a Colonel Bennett at any time?’

There was more silence with occasional remarks by Inspector Jackson.

‘I see… Royal Ascot week… Would it be possible for me to speak to the solicitor in Newbury, if I came round to your office straight away? I can be there within three minutes… Fine, thanks.’ Jackson rang off and got to his feet.

‘Jackson!’ almost screamed Thadeus. ‘You cannot just walk out of the office leaving me in limbo!’

The inspector’s voice was calm and controlled. ‘The hour is late and I must speak to another solicitor this evening. I’ll return as soon as possible, probably in about half an hour, and give you all the details. Your hypothesis is looking good.’ And with this remark he left.

It was nearly six o’clock when the inspector returned. Ethel and James had departed for their homes; Thadeus had been genuinely busy checking carefully through James’s draft letter heading and cover note.

‘I suggest we retire to The Lamb for a glass of refreshing ale,’ was all that Jackson said. Thadeus put on his coat, locked the office and followed the inspector into the street and the fifty yards or so to the public house. Not yet a well known watering hole for the Lloyd’s fraternity who were due to arrive virtually next door within three years, but a popular city pub both with the Leadenhall market boys and the business gentlemen.

Thadeus had not yet established himself as a regular, but the inspector was clearly well known to the landlord and they were both escorted to a quiet booth upstairs, equipped with two pints of Young’s bitter.

The inspector supped the first mouthful of his beer. ‘My name is John, known to friends – and enemies – as Johnny, Johnny Jackson. Do you mind if I call you Thadeus?’

‘By all means,’ replied Thadeus.

‘Well, Thadeus, I should disclose that I have two clues to which you are not privilege. The pistol had been the property of a German officer in the war, not what you would expect to find in the position of a confirmed Irish neutral. Also routine enquiries have unearthed a witness who saw a man leave the premises at 3 Gracechurch Street some time about a quarter past six on Friday evening. Apparently the unknown man was “short and of a dapper military appearance”. Also he shut the street door, I quote again, “as if he were the last to leave”.’

‘Nothing like the photograph of the Colonel Bennett that appeared in Friday’s Times ,’ observed Thadeus.

‘Indeed not,’ replied Johnny Jackson emphatically. He continued his story. ‘Mr Hargreaves remembers being approached, by telephone, by a solicitor in Newbury about some documents that needed witnessing for a Colonel Bennett. It was during Royal Ascot week and the work had to be done quite late, between six and six thirty in the evening, as apparently the colonel would be at the races, returning to stay in London at about that time. Mr Hargreaves did not want to get involved and gave the telephone number and address of Mr Whelan to the solicitor and suggested that he try him. Mr Hargreaves had no other involvement in the matter, apart from using his excellent memory.’

Thadeus said nothing.

Johnny Jackson supped his beer, and continued. ‘From Mr Hargreaves’ office I spoke to his friend in Newbury, a Mr Pearson, solicitor to both the colonel and his brother the major. He confirmed Mr Hargreaves’ evidence, adding the he had not actually spoken to the colonel about the appointment in London, it had been handled by, I quote, “the colonel’s office”. Mr Pearson played no further part in the drama, except he does remember asking the colonel some weeks later if he got his documents signed in London. The colonel looked a bit puzzled but replied “yes”.’ Jackson supped more beer.

‘You asked him about the colonel’s will?’

Jackson smiled, ‘Yes, indeed! Apparently the colonel’s recent will enacted during Royal Ascot week this year, and witnessed by Mr Whelan and a Lady Frances Downing, with an address in Norfolk, left his entire fortune to his brother the major. The will was discovered in the desk of the colonel after his death. His previous will had bequeathed only 2,000 guineas to his brother and the remainder of the estate to his regiment to establish a fund to assist young officers. The war had apparently left the regiment a bit short of young officers and the colonel had been anxious that the regiment did not get absorbed or amalgamated into another group. His total estate at the time of death is estimated at about 90,000 guineas.’