Terry Minahan - The Adventures of Thadeus Burke Vol 1

‘And, if it was suicide?’ suggested Thadeus.

‘Personally I would go for a quarter-full bottle. Ensure that my dose was equal to three quarters of an ounce per dram sit back and say “Goodbye”.’

‘That may well be what happened,’ said Thadeus.

‘That could be bad news. No crime, no free lunch,’ commented the girl.

‘That is no problem, I solved a murder for Inspector Johnny Jackson this afternoon!’

The rest of the meal was taken up with Thadeus’ tale of the lunchtime epic.

It was nearly 6.00 pm when James telephoned. He had a lot to say. ‘I have a complete Motor Department on my desk. I will take it home tonight and study the documents and start working out a system for handling them. Also I have finished the cotton mill!’ He paused at this point.

Thadeus said, ‘Well done you. Tell me all about it.’

James continued. ‘I was introduced to Mr Charles Payne, Jimmy’s uncle, and a formidable gentleman. We shook hands and discussed the motor business, and then he asked me if I had any other business to show him. So I produced the slip for the cotton mill. He studied it for a short while, asked me a couple of questions that, fortunately I was able to answer, then said, “Cotton. I can put it under my cargo account. Would a line of 15 per cent suit you?” Yes, I said, thank you very much, sir, and he put down his line and passed the slip over to Jimmy to enter. Then as I was leaving the Room I passed old Mr White, who was sitting quietly on his own at his box. I went up to him and said “I know you have seen this risk before Mr White, but I now only need 2½ per cent to finish and I thought that you might help.’ He glared at me, took the slip from my hand and said, “As I probably know more about this bloody cotton mill than you do, I suppose I’m obliged to assist.” He turned the slip over and pencilled 2½ percent on the back. Held out his hand and smiled. He wrote T-O-J-P beside the line. What does that mean?’

‘To oblige James Pooley. James I think you have arrived!’ chuckled Thadeus.

James continued. ‘Thank you, one other thing, Inspector Jackson telephoned. He said, “Tell Mr Burke that his second hypothesis is looking good.” I told him that you would be at the theatre this evening and he said for you to phone him at home when you return. Is that good news?’

‘Unfortunately it is not, James, just Mother Nature playing her games,’ replied Thadeus mysteriously.

The play was excellent, except that Ernest wore his hat on the back of his head. Really bad form Thadeus thought. Freddie’s leg held up satisfactorily and the extra stick was useful for chasing away a group of youngsters who had decided to play on the Bentley. They set off home determine to experiment with the number of mouthfuls there are in a bottle of Drambuie.

‘Good evening, sir. Good evening Miss Freddie,’ welcomed Hilton. ‘Inspector Jackson telephoned a few minutes ago, sir. He said to telephone him if you return from the theatre within a quarter of an hour. I have the number, sir. Do you wish me to obtain him for you?’

‘Yes, thank you Hilton,’ said Thadeus. ‘And Hilton, can you track down a bottle of Drambuie and a couple of small brandy balloons?’

‘Are you sure, sir?’ questioned Hilton.

‘Yes.’

‘Ice, sir?’

‘No thank you.’

‘Are you sure, sir?’ questioned Hilton again.

‘Yes,’ replied Thadeus again.

Hilton retreated wearing one of his disapproving faces and obtained Inspector Jackson on the telephone.

Jackson demanded a few answers from Thadeus before giving any information. ‘Why did you think that it was “odd” that Thurlow had been shot at ten past two?’

‘I knew both Thurlow brothers. I have done business with them. I also knew that they enjoy an extravagant lunch most days, accompanied by a substantial amount of wine, followed by a couple of large brandies. For one of them to be in the Room at that time could be considered “odd”,’ replied Thadeus.

‘Edward Thurlow was meeting a couple of Names and was expecting them at two o’clock. They, or, to be precise, one of them, telephoned just before one o’clock. Actually the caller had asked for a meeting with Mr George Thurlow but George told Edward that he could not possibly be there at that time and delegated the job to Edward. George Thurlow did not ask who the names were as he was dashing off to a lunch in the West End,’ volunteered Jackson.

‘I assumed that something like that had happened. George did tend to treat his brother as an underling.’

‘Why did you suspect the young Austin?’ questioned Jackson.

‘I knew that Mr Algernon Tammis Austin and his two sons were names on the Thurlow syndicate. I also know that the elder brother, also named Algernon, is a close friend of Gussie Downing. They share chambers. Gussie is a self-confessed communist. Young Alfred, the other brother, is a thespian, engaged on the frustrating road to theatrical stardom. This cocktail of information yielded up the young man as my prime suspect for a leading part in the lunchtime drama.’ explained Thadeus.

‘It is my painful duty to tell you that you were right,’ said Jackson without enthusiasm. ‘Young Austin shot himself this afternoon.’

‘Very sad,’ said Thadeus genuinely, without hinting that he was already aware of the tragedy.

Jackson continued with his account. ‘Thurlow is posting a “cash loss call” on his names. It will be very bad for the Austin family. Thurlow told me that he had been writing American property business for a couple of years, through an agent in Pennsylvania. The business had gone very well, producing good profits. So he decided to sign up some more agents, in various other states, and carry no reinsurance! It is proving to be a disaster. He has cancelled the binders, but the damage has been done. Young Austin left a note, by the way. “Sorry, I cannot get anything right”.’

‘Yes. He shot the wrong Thurlow. I imagine the motorcyclist was entirely innocent of the criminal intentions of Alfred?’ asked Thadeus.

‘Yes, an assistant stage manager from some theatre that I have never heard of. He thought that it was all a student rag-week prank, involving fireworks.’

Thadeus and Jackson chatted for a while, commenting on the tragedy and the unpredictability of human nature. Jackson promised another lunch. Thadeus reminded him that he had paid for that day’s meal and therefore was expecting two lunches.

‘How do we find out how many mouthfuls there are in a bottle of Drambuie?’ asked Thadeus.

‘How would a mathematician handle the question?’ asked Freddie.

‘I would drink a quarter of the bottle, count the mouthfuls and multiply by four,’ answered Thadeus. ‘What would a doctor do?’

‘A doctor would pour the bottleful into a measuring glass and divide the result by about a fifth of a gill, knowing that that amount represented a mouthful,’ was her answer.

‘Dull!’ exclaimed Thadeus. ‘I wonder how Hilton would tackle the problem.’

‘He would measure a mouthful of water in one of his kitchen jugs, look at the label on the bottle to find out the total volume of the bottle then get a pencil and paper and work out the figure required,’ speculated Freddie.

‘Even duller!’ responded Thadeus. ‘How about a medical student?’

‘A medical student would drink the whole bottle carefully counting the number of mouthfuls. Before completing the task he, or she, would fall over in a drunken stupor and reassess the position next morning.’

‘Here’s to medical students!’ cried Thadeus, filling two small Brandy glasses with Drambuie.

Freddie took a glass and raised it to her lips. ‘Cheers. Here we go.’

They both slept well that night.