Terry Minahan - The Adventures of Thadeus Burke Vol 1

‘Yes, sir,’ came the response. ‘There should be three extra chaps arriving any minute.’

‘Good. Get the names and addresses of all concerned. You need to be quick about that as the building is beginning to fill up as people return from lunch. Allow those who work here in the building to return to their places; but make sure you know where that is. Ask the Superintendent of the Room if he can find an office nearby for you to use. Then start taking written statements.’

The sergeant nodded and began to walk away but while he was still within earshot Jackson added, ‘As soon as you have the extra men see if any witnesses can be found in the street. Not easy, but there might be someone hanging around expecting to be interviewed.’ He nodded a ‘get on with it’ signal, and the sergeant strode purposely towards the constable.

‘Well, Thadeus, what do you think?’

‘If it had been George Thurlow I would definitely suspect a disgruntled Name; the syndicate has lost a lot of money recently. But it was Edward, it might be something personal. I will make a couple of telephone calls. Meanwhile keep a note of this name.’ Thadeus handed Jackson a piece of paper, torn from his notebook. On it were written three words.

Jackson took the sheet of paper and walked across to the waiter, Mr Malcolm, who was looking strangely naked, having relinquished his red coat and been supplanted in his duties at the barrier by a colleague.

‘Do you know a man named Alfred Tammis Austin?’ he asked.

‘No, sir,’ was the response.

As Jackson turned to set off in the direction of Thadeus, a tall, dignified man wearing a plain dark grey suit and a bowler hat of the same colour confronted him. He carried a rolled umbrella, the handle of which he held up to attract Jackson’s attention. The gentlemen introduced himself, ‘George Thurlow, brother of the poor fellow laying there.’

‘We need to talk,’ said Jackson simply.

‘Yes. Do you mind if we go to my office? It is just round the corner in Finch Lane. I appear to be the centre of attention here, understandable but disconcerting.’

‘Certainly. One moment,’ responded Jackson, then, turning to Thadeus, ‘would you be good enough to tell the sergeant where I have gone?’

‘Certainly,’ replied Thadeus, then to George Thurlow, with a dignified bow of the head, ‘Mr Thurlow.’

Thurlow responded similarly, ‘Thadeus.’

The inspector and the underwriter set off towards the Cornhill exit.

Thadeus advised the police sergeant of Inspector Jackson’s movements, giving him the address of the Thurlow office from memory and the telephone number from his pocket notebook. He decided to return to his own office, crossed Cornhill, looked into Simpson’s – upstairs and down – but James and his lunch date had left. He then went into the George & Vulture, apologized to Lucy for the sudden departure from her table, settled the bill and walked through the alley to his office. ‘Jackson now owes me two lunches,’ he thought.

James was at his desk making notes about the new motor account, the subject that he would discuss with Thadeus at an early opportunity.

Ethel was typing a letter. There were no messages.

Thadeus telephoned his home. ‘Hilton, is Freddie there?’

‘Yes, sir, one moment.’

‘Hello, Thady.’

‘What are you doing?’

‘Reading Fyodor Dostoyevsky’s short stories. They are excellent, much better than his long books. Some of his characters are like oil paintings…’

‘I thought that you were supposed to be swotting Toxic Materials ,’ Thadeus interrupted his sister.

‘I have completed that task and am now engaged in well earned recreation,’ she responded.

‘Good,’ he stated decisively. ‘This evening I need a brief lecture on the subject of arsenic.’

‘I thought that we were to attend the theatre to try out my new leg, the pale and slightly withered one, to be encased in trousers,’ she complained.

Two days ago the plaster had been removed from Freddie’s leg and she had taken to wearing trousers and carrying one of Thadeus’ country sticks. The combination gave her the appearance of a music-hall performer. Thadeus feared a visit to the theatre might involve his elder sibling being dragged backstage and admonished for mixing with the clientele.

‘We may be able to fit in a fleeting visit to Oscar Wilde, I suppose,’ he admitted.

‘Good. Arsenic is far too important to be taken seriously!’ quipped the girl.

They said their goodbyes and Thadeus called James into his office.

He informed the young man of the events in the Underwriting Room at lunchtime. Adding that it was not a good afternoon to be insuring a cotton mill.

‘Can we talk about motor insurance,’ James leapt in.

‘Why not,’ said Thadeus, feeling that some light diversion was in order, ‘but I need to make an important ‘phone call first.’

He dialled from the instrument on his desk and spoke to an Algernon Tammis Austin at his home in Kensington. The gentleman was too distressed to hold a conversation and Thadeus found himself talking to a manservant and receiving a brief outline of the afternoon’s tragic events at the house.

Thadeus and James discussed motor insurance until nearly 4.00 pm. The most important aspect being who would do what in the office?

‘I am looking around for a man to handle the policy documentation, of which, hopefully, there will be a mountain soon,’ disclosed Thadeus. ‘You had better get over to the Room and pick up the promised paperwork from your friend Jimmy. I am attending the theatre this evening, so I will leave the office before 5.00 pm.’

‘Shall I take the cotton mill with me?’ asked James,

‘Why not. See what you can do,’ smiled Thadeus, ‘and telephone me at home before you leave.’

‘Yes, sir,’ said James, gathering up his papers from the desk.

‘I have arranged for Hilton to prepare us a small meal before we go to the theatre,’ greeted Freddie. ‘Arsenic granules with a hollandaise sauce.’

‘I think I’ll stick to the theory of poisoning rather than the practice,’ responded Thadeus, pouring himself a glass of white wine from the open bottle.

They sat down to salmon fishcakes with new potatoes and a green salad.

‘I expect you are working on a case with your man Watson, or is it Jackson.’ smiled Freddie. ‘Give me the facts!’

‘Arsenic in a bottle of Drambuie,’ said Thadeus simply.

‘An excellent choice, arsenic can taste a little sweet. Almost certainly it would be arsenic trioxide crystals. They take a time to dissolve. Heating the liquid would speed things up, but you run the risk of over saturation which might lead to sediment forming as the liquid cooled. To be sure I would dose a room-temperature bottle the day before.’

‘How much would you need?’ asked Thadeus.

‘To do the job properly I would recommend half of a gram for each mouthful. That is about double the fatal dose, but you do not want your victim throwing up all over the place and staggering out of the room shouting your name.’

‘Our man drank several mouthfuls, possibly a couple of glasses,’ informed Thadeus.

‘That was extremely obliging of him. It means that you need less arsenic per bottle. But you would need to be sure that he has a good swig. Sitting back and sipping the drink would bring on nausea and warn the victim of danger. Was it a full bottle?’

‘I do not know. Why do you ask that?’ enquired Thadeus.

‘Drambuie bottles are not large but you would still need quite a lot of arsenic to ensure a fatal dose for the victim. Half a bottle equals less arsenic! And if you stand in front of him and say, “Cheers. Down the hatch!” off he goes.’