Stabbing Set with Sapphires Page 8

  Miss Kleinman motioned for Miss Fairfield to get Mr. Morris as soon as Mr. Tolland agreed and went to the vault before he could change his mind. She returned with a black velvet jewelry box as Miss Fairfield and Mr. Morris were arranging themselves at the table. She opened the box and set on the table in front of Mr. Tolland.

  Mr. Tolland lifted the Heart of Night out of the box and put the first of the lenses down on his loupe. He studied the stone then furrowed his brow and adjusted the lens. After a few moments, he put an orange lens I hadn’t seen him use before in place. That seemed to clear things up, and he went through the rest of the examination in the order I had become accustomed to seeing.

  Mr. Tolland was just putting the loupe away when Mr. Kleinman darted into the room. “Sorry, sorry,” he panted. “The police were at my door this morning, trying to get me to identify some bits of junk they found. I couldn’t very well turn them away. Believe me, I tried.

  “It’s all right, Daniel. We were able to begin without you. Thank you for your help, Mr. Morris.”

  “Of course, of course.” Mr. Morris stood and went back to the selling floor.

  Mr. Kleinman took the chair Mr. Morris had vacated, still out of breath. He kept looking from his sister to the insurance man and back, like he was waiting for one of them to reprimand him for being late.

  “It should be enough for my brother to read the description, correct?”

  “Certainly. The piece is right here; he merely needs to affirm that this is indeed the piece in question.”

  “I...I...”

  “Daniel, you really must guard your health more carefully if this is how out of breath you become running here from the Underground station. Now, here’s the paper. Read it and let Miss Pengear get to the typing.”

  Mr. Kleinman took the page and read it, then handed it back to Mr. Tolland. “Yes, that is a good description of the piece in question.”

  “Excellent. Miss Pengear.” Mr. Tolland held the paper out and to me, and everyone waited while I typed it up.

  When I looked up to hand the page back, I noticed Mr. Kleinman’s breathing had calmed down, and he was almost himself. Apparently he felt he’d gotten the worst of his punishment for being late over with. The paper was signed; then Miss Kleinman handed it back to me.

  “Would you make the copy now, Miss Pengear? Then Mr. Tolland can take the original with him when he leaves. I would feel better knowing the policy was in force on this piece as soon as possible.”

  “Of course.” I put another form in my machine and started typing while Miss Kleinman brought the Heart of Night back into the vault. When the second form was signed, Mr. Kleinman escorted Mr. Tolland to the door, and Miss Henderson went back to the sales floor. Miss Kleinman folded the copy of the policy and tucked it into her pocket. “Well, that’s a relief, at least. That’s all for today, Miss Pengear. We can resume on Monday. I hope.”

  ~ * ~ * ~

  Outside the shop, I headed towards the Underground station, but I was feeling restless. Miss Crawford was still missing. I was sure Inspector Wainwright was doing his best, but he was probably looking into Charlie Donovan, whom I doubted was the culprit.

  It seemed like there should be something else I could do to help. I went through what I knew of the night of the kidnapping in my mind. Miss Crawford had spent a seemingly normal day at work, gone to a pub, felt ill, and been put in a cab home. I didn’t think I could find the cab. That was the sort of thing Scotland Yard was very good at. I’d already talked to both Miss Eaton and Miss Henderson. There didn’t seem to be any other leads. Unless there was something at the pub. It would be closed this early. Maybe something would strike me. And it was better than sitting around my flat, brooding. I went back to the bookshop and looked up the White Oak.

  ~ * ~ * ~

  When I arrived, the pub was closed, which wasn’t a surprise, but at least I was able to get a look at the neighborhood. Respectable was the first word that sprang to mind. The sort of place office workers would go to if they didn’t want to fix something back at their flat.

  There was a young man by the door sweeping the front step. It was worth a try. I wandered over.

  “Closed, miss.”

  “I noticed. I wanted to ask if there’s anyone here today who was here on Tuesday night.”

  “This about that girl?”

  “The one who went missing, yes, it is. I’m a friend of hers.”

  “Went missing? Wish I could help more then, but like I told the others, didn’t see much.”

  “What did you see?”

  He sighed and stopped sweeping so he could lean on the broom. “Toff came in and started chatting her up. She told him where to go. He left.”

  “Could he have put something in her drink?”

  “Him? No. Standing on the wrong side of her.”

  “Could someone else?”

  “Would think the friend would have seen.”

  “But you didn’t?”

  “Wasn’t watching the drink. Was watching him, in case I needed to throw him out on his ear. If he hadn’t left when he did, I was ready to stand over him.” He straightened up, and I saw how menacing he could be if wanted to. Then he collapsed back against the broom. “But he left.”

  “What did he look like?”

  “Didn’t see his face well, but he was kind of thin and reedy. Not much to look at. Thin little nose, weak chin. Brown hair. He strutted. That’s how I’d know him again. Thought a lot of himself, I think.”

  “Did you see her leave?”

  He shook his head. “Da was tending bar so I was watching the food. Lots of folks come for our fish and chips. We were busy. I tried to look over to see he didn’t come back, but I didn’t see them leave.”

  “Did you recognize the toff?”

  He smiled a little. “Sounds funny when you say it. No, never seen him before. And he hasn’t been back. I’ve been watching for him. If he comes, Constable Redmond’ll know in five minutes. Less if he’s in the middle of his beat.”

  “Thanks for telling me. I’ll let you get back to work.”

  “Hope they find her, miss.”

  “Thanks.”

  As I walked back to the Underground station, I wondered what I’d learned. Not much. His story fit with Miss Henderson's version of things, but it didn’t bring me any closer to finding out where she’d gone.

  Chapter 9

  I SPENT A RESTLESS SUNDAY meandering from one thing in my flat to another, unable to settle to anything. There were too many unanswered questions at Kleinman and Company, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that something worse was coming. I was dreading hearing that Miss Crawford’s body had been found in some alleyway or floating in the Thames. I finally gave up trying to do anything productive and sat down with a cup of tea to read a book and brood between chapters.

  Monday morning, I was up early and ready to get to the shop and hear the latest on Miss Crawford. I wasn’t sure if Inspector Wainwright would have sent word to let me know if she was found, but surely someone at the shop would know. As I was coming out of the Underground, I spotted Miss Peters crossing from the omnibus stop. That seemed a good place to start. I waited for her by the corner.

  “Any word on Miss Crawford?”

  She shook her head. “I was going to ask you. Do you think they’d telephone if she was found?”

  “I don’t know, but I would hope so.”

  She sighed. “Don’t tell the others, but I’m starting to look for another position. I don’t know that I’ll really leave, but all of these robberies, and then Miss Crawford, I just don’t feel safe here anymore.”

  “I’m sure they’ll solve it.”

  “But doesn’t it seem odd that it’s so focused on us?”

  It did seem odd, but I didn’t want to worry her. “Maybe the thieves found a way in that wasn’t blocked afterward. I’ve heard of that happening when a flat is broken into; they just keep coming back. Maybe that’s what this is.”

  “I su
ppose.” She didn’t sound convinced, but then neither was I.

  When we arrived at the shop, we found Miss Kleinman standing in the small courtyard by the employee entrance. She looked up when she heard our footsteps.

  “Miss Pengear. Yes, just who’s needed.”

  I had a sinking feeling in my chest. “What’s gone wrong?”

  “I don’t know. Look here.”

  I crossed the yard and stood by Miss Kleinman. The small window on the door had been shattered. A few shards of glass lay on the front step, sitting on a set of muddy footprints, but the majority of it must have been on the inside.

  “I don’t know if I should go in or... The door is still locked. The window’s broken. That’s not how the others got in.” She looked at me.

  I could tell she wanted me to say that everything was probably all right. She couldn’t have two sets of burglars. It was probably the wind or a tree branch, even though the evening before had been calm and there wasn’t a tree anywhere around us. “I saw a constable as I came up from the Underground. We can go get him and have him with us when we go in. Just to be safe.”

  “I wouldn’t want to disturb him for nothing.” And she so wanted this to be nothing.

  “It would be safest. And I’m sure he won’t mind being disturbed if it is nothing. This is his job, after all.”

  Miss Kleinman sighed. “Miss Peters, would you go see if you can find the constable?”

  “Of course. I’ll be right back.” She walked briskly back to the main street. I had the feeling she didn’t want to be near the broken window just in case there was something sinister inside.

  Miss Kleinman leaned against the wall. I stayed where I was, although I was itching to look over the area before the police arrived, just in case it was related to the robbery.

  “You don’t suppose the kidnapper came back, do you?” Miss Kleinman didn’t look away from the door.

  “I hope not. Or maybe I hope so, if he left any more clues to who he is. That’s the way a lot of criminals are caught according to my friends at Scotland Yard. They commit a well-planned crime but get careless and leave too many clues at the next crime scene.”

  Miss Kleinman pushed away from the wall and looked at the door again. “We can’t have a third criminal involved. It just can’t be possible. Is there something about our shop that’s attracting them?”

  I hesitated. That was the same thing Miss Peters had asked. I knew Miss Kleinman wanted me to reassure her, but I also knew she wanted practical help, and at the moment the two seemed mutually exclusive. “Has there been anything different about the shop? Anything that would attract attention?”

  Miss Kleinman turned to look at me. “Not that I know of. What sort of things would that be?”

  “I don’t know. A story in a newspaper. Someone famous wearing one of your pieces. Acknowledgment in an industry publication. Anything that could make a thief think you were worth the trouble or a rival want to sabotage you.”

  Miss Kleinman shook her head. “It makes me rather glad we’ve never been truly successful. Our clients are wealthy, but not anyone of note.”

  “And no one knew about the Heart of Night?”

  “No one outside the shop. I only showed you because I knew of your work with Scotland Yard, so I knew you could be trusted. Of course, all of the staff knows, and someone could have let something slip. And it is possible that Lady Suffolk told someone herself. But then, why wasn’t the Heart of Night taken?”

  I sighed. “No one came to the shop after it closed on Saturday? Then they weren’t disturbed while they were here, so that can’t be the excuse. They would have just kept hunting until they found it.”

  “So it wasn’t to get the Heart of Night, then.” She sighed. “How do we find out what it was?”

  I was trying to think of a comforting answer when Miss Peters returned with Miss Eaton and the constable following.

  The constable tipped his hat to Miss Kleinman and me. “A broken window, I’m told?”

  “I’m sure it’s nothing. We really shouldn’t have bothered you.” Miss Kleinman was trying for her usual control, but I could hear it slipping.

  “No bother at all. Let me have a look. It might just be some urchins with too many rocks and too much time, but always best to be certain.” He went to examine the door, starting with the broken window pane, then he moved on to the shards of glass, and finally knelt down and looked at the lock. “Ma’am, do you have a key to the front door?”

  Miss Kleinman slid the keys around on her ring. “Yes, of course. But it is bolted from the inside. Do you think we should go in that way?”

  “I think it might be best. Just until we know for sure that there’s nothing to see here.” He let Miss Kleinman lead the way around the shop to the front door and waited while she slipped the key into the lock and worked the device to unlock the main lock. “Now the bolt?”

  “Leave it to me. Whereabouts is it?”

  Miss Kleinman traced the area of the bolt with her finger then stepped back as the constable pulled a brass box out of his pocket. He held it against the door and relaxed his grip. The box fell away, and he caught it and moved to a new spot. He kept at it until he found a place where it stuck.

  “Magnets?” Miss Kleinman asked.

  “Exactly. And a little bit of mechanics in this bit.” He attached a long, thin rod to the box, then adjusted the length and slid a thin slice of metal into the edge of the door. When he slid the box along the door, we could all hear the bolt slide out of place.

  “Now why didn’t the inspector bring that up when he was telling us how to stop another robbery?” Miss Kleinman was now more annoyed at Inspector Wainwright than worried about the broken window.

  “Well, it’s not a common thing for a criminal to have. Very illegal to sell them to anyone outside of Scotland Yard. If you’ll allow me...” He pushed the door open and entered before us. “Now, how do I get to the door we were looking at?”

  “Behind the counter there. Here, I’ll show you.” Miss Kleinman led the way to the back of the sales floor, but the constable pushed ahead of her when they arrived at the door to the back room. “Better safe than sorry, ma’am.”

  Miss Kleinman let him go first but followed right behind him. I followed her. Miss Peters and Miss Eaton followed me. I could tell from the way he looked over his shoulder that the constable would rather we had all waited on the sales floor, but he didn’t want to worry us by saying so.

  The constable stopped at the first door, the one leading to the vault room, and paused. I could see he was looking at the lock. “Ladies, I’m going to have to ask you to stay here.”

  None of us listened. Miss Kleinman gave him a moment to start down the short hall to the foyer then followed, me right behind her, and Miss Peters clutching at Miss Eaton’s hands like they were entering a haunted house behind me. The constable stopped at the end of the hall and looked through the partially open door to the vault room foyer. “Ladies, please go back into the shop. Is there someplace where you could make some tea perhaps? Maybe a lounge?”

  Miss Peters and Miss Eaton froze. Miss Kleinman opened her mouth to ask a question but didn’t seem to know what to say. I stepped forward to look around the door.

  “Miss...”

  “You’ll need an identification.”

  The constable looked at me for a moment, saw I knew what he’d seen, and said, “All right, but only from the hallway.” He put a hand on my arm and let me look around the doorframe.

  There was a figure slumped over the table against the wall. Tools were spread out around him: a hammer, a set of thin screwdrivers, a pair of scissors, and shards of what looked like dark blue glass, but I couldn’t tell what he’d been doing when he’d been stabbed in neck with a thin knife. At least I assumed that was how he died; I could see the silver handle of the knife sticking up just below his hairline. I thought it was blood-soaked until I realized that was the red enamel decorating the handle.

  “His
name is Mr. Morris. He’s a jewelry designer here.”

  “Very good. I’ll have to call the Yard in.”

  “There’s a telephone in the office,” Miss Kleinman said softly. “I’ll show you where it is. Come along, girls. Tea sounds like a very good idea now. In fact, would one of you like to run to the bakery and get us something sweet to go with it?” She started to herd Miss Eaton and Miss Peters down the hallway.

  The constable had his notebook out already. “You mentioned an inspector?”

  I answered so Miss Kleinman could keep talking about tea and sweets and other neutral subjects. “Inspector Wainwright. There were two robberies here last week and one of the employees is missing, which was why we were being so cautious.”

  “Is she a suspect?”

  That was a possibility I hadn't thought of; I'd been so worried about finding her. “I doubt it. She seems to have been kidnapped the night before the first robbery.”

  “All right. I’ll contact him, then.” From his level of enthusiasm, I suspected he had been on the wrong side of Inspector Wainwright before.

  “You don’t want to make certain the killer’s not still here?” I tried not to sound too nervous, but listing off the other crimes like that made it sound dangerous to even be in the building.

  “I’m not qualified to give an actual time of death, but my amateur opinion is sometime over the last couple of days, not hours. Maybe Saturday night or yesterday morning. It would be very unlikely for the killer to still be here. But I’m happy to look around first if it would make you feel better.”

  I shook my head. “Call in Inspector Wainwright, then. Looking will just make them nervous.” I nodded towards the others on their way to the lounge.

  “Once I’ve placed the call, I will check. Will there be other staff members arriving and expecting to use the back door?”

  “There will. And soon.” I knew a chance when I saw one. “Would you like me to go and wait for them?”