Curse of the Poppy (Penny Green Series Book 5) Read online

  I placed my carpet bag on my desk, walked over to the typewriter and showed him how it was done.

  “Did you see that, Potter? It’s rolled onto a cylinder!” said Edgar. “Now, where do I find the letter ‘A’? Why aren’t these keys in alphabetical order?”

  “We’ve discussed this before, Edgar,” I said. “There’s the ‘A’ on the far left.”

  “Actually, I don’t require an ‘A’. I require an ‘M’ for the name Mr Godfrey White.”

  “‘M’ is on the bottom row, over on the right.”

  Edgar pressed it. “And that has put something on the paper, has it?”

  “Yes, you can just about see it behind the ink ribbon.”

  “I can typewrite, Potter!” said Edgar cheerily. “Now where’s ‘R’?”

  I pointed it out to him.

  “And now I press this long rectangular key for a space, don’t I? And now for ‘G’… Don’t tell me, Miss Green, I want to find it for myself. There it is! How’s it looking?” He peered closely at the paper. “Oh, darn it. It’s all in lower case!”

  “Sorry, Edgar, I forgot to explain about the shift key.”

  “What, this one here?”

  “Yes. For an uppercase letter you need to hold the shift key down at the same time.”

  Edgar sat back in the chair looking deflated. “Now I’ve lost all my enthusiasm for the project.”

  “It’s quite easy, Edgar. Just put in another piece of paper and start again.”

  “No, no, I haven’t the time for that sort of fussing about. I’ll find out if Miss Welton is in an amenable enough temper to typewrite it for me. Thank you for your help, Miss Green.”

  I sat back at my desk and leafed through the morning’s edition. I was reading about a new elephant at the Zoological Society’s Gardens when an announcement caught my eye:

  Sir Archibald Duffield will preside over a dinner for gentlemen interested in Indian affairs at the Burlington Hotel on Thursday the 21st of August. The guest of honour will be the merchant Mr. Lewis Sheridan, whose Calcutta company has contributed greatly to the commercial and material interests of India. Among those present will be Lord Wallace, Sir Edmund Nicholl, Sir Thomas Horsman, Colonel Worthing, Mr. Cornelius Redington and Mr. Rajah Rogay.

  I showed the announcement to Edgar.

  “Do you think you might be able to secure yourself an invitation?” I asked.

  “I doubt it. Besides, it would be exceedingly dull.”

  “But you know who Lewis Sheridan is, don’t you?”

  “No, who is he?”

  “Oh, Edgar, I thought you were covering the story of the Forsters’ murders!”

  “I am! What of it?”

  “Then you must know who Lewis Sheridan is.”

  “Oh, wait a minute.” Edgar clicked his thumb and forefinger together as he thought it over. “Yes… it sounds familiar. Yes! It’s that merchant Forster worked for in Bombay, isn’t it?”

  “Calcutta.”

  “That’s it, Calcutta.”

  “It would be interesting to speak to him, don’t you think?”

  “Why?”

  “To find out what he makes of his former employee’s death.”

  “I suppose so. I can’t imagine he’d have much to say other than to express his sympathies.”

  “Can you attempt to get an invitation to the dinner? Your father has plenty of good connections, doesn’t he?”

  “He does, but I don’t see what use there could be in me attending. Mr Sheridan will hardly want to discuss Forster’s death with me, will he? It’s rather a gloomy topic.”

  “It needn’t be an in-depth discussion; it could merely be a few words to express your condolences and ask for his thoughts on the tragedy.”

  “To what end?”

  “He might have some useful information about who may be behind it.”

  “If so he’s probably already told the police.”

  “Not necessarily. People don’t always think to tell the police seemingly trivial pieces of information. Often they think what they know is rather small and of no importance, but when it’s pieced together as part of a bigger puzzle it can be extremely significant. And it’s difficult to find out these pieces of information without asking people. Conversation is often the best way; especially accompanied by a glass of something to loosen the tongue.”

  “I see what you’re getting at, but I don’t think I have any chance of securing a place at that dinner. Why not attend yourself if you’re so interested?”

  “You’re forgetting something, Edgar. I’m a woman.”

  “Oh yes, so you are.”

  “I wasn’t allowed into the East India Club for Inspector Paget’s briefing, so it’s unlikely that I would be invited to this dinner. And it’s not really my story, is it? It’s yours. I’ve already been scolded by Chief Inspector Cullen at Scotland Yard for getting too involved in it all.”

  “Oh dear. I suppose I’ll have to go instead if I can.”

  “You’ll enjoy it. You like dinners, don’t you?”

  “I do like a good dinner, but it’s much more fun when I’m not there for work purposes.”

  “So you intend to request an invitation?”

  “I’ll try, but I don’t know what good it will do.”

  “Edgar, I have just explained it all!” I began to feel exasperated by his lack of interest. “Can’t you see how useful it would be to find out Mr Sheridan’s opinion on the matter?”

  “I can’t say that I do. Forster wasn’t even working for him when he was killed. He left the company last year, did he not?”

  “Yes, he did, but I’m surprised by your laxity, Edgar. You’re a news reporter. Surely you feel compelled to get to that dinner and speak to Mr Sheridan?”

  “It’s simply not in my nature, Miss Green. I can’t say that I care too much for investigative work. That time I went undercover in St Giles’ Rookery represented the worst few weeks of my life. I like the stories to come to me.”

  “But they don’t always do so. Most often you have to go looking for the information.”

  “Only I let the police do that. They have detectives for that sort of thing.”

  “But the police aren’t always looking in the right places.”

  “You’re not criticising your friend Blakely with that comment, are you?”

  “No, not at all. But Inspector James Blakely’s work is constrained by what his superior tells him to do. And having recently spoken with Chief Inspector Cullen about this case I can see that he has no imaginative ideas on how to approach it.”

  “My work is constrained by what my editor, Mr Sherman, tells me to do,” replied Edgar. “There’s really no point in creating extra work for myself.”

  I sighed. “I see that you prefer to take the path of least resistance.”

  “Of course I do. Doesn’t everyone? Everyone apart from you, that is.”

  We were interrupted by the editor’s secretary, Miss Welton, entering the room. She wore a woollen dress, which was buttoned up to her throat, and a pair of pince-nez. She was accompanied by a young woman in mourning dress, whom I recognised as Emma Holland.

  “You have a visitor, Miss Green,” said Miss Welton.

  “Miss Holland!” I rose to my feet. “This is a surprise indeed.”

  “I’m sorry to disturb you at your place of work,” she said, glancing around the room nervously. “I hope you don’t mind me visiting you here.”

  “Not at all. Would you like to take a seat? I’m afraid there isn’t a lot of space.” I pushed all my papers into a pile and removed another stack from a chair so that she could sit down.

  “Take the young lady to a refreshment room, Miss Green,” said Edgar. “This inky den is no place for women’s conversation.”

  “That’s quite a good idea, Edgar. Shall we do that, Miss Holland?”

  She nodded.

  Chapter 25

  Emma Holland and I sat at a table in the oak-panelled tea room of Anderton�
��s Hotel on Fleet Street. The gas lamps were lit, as the only natural light came from a window overlooking a dingy courtyard. The darkness of the room made Miss Holland’s face seem even paler, and I tried to imagine what she must have looked like before grief had held her in its grip.

  “I read your article about the opium den, Miss Green,” she said. “I didn’t realise you had visited the place. What was it like?”

  “Much as I described it, I’m afraid. Extremely dismal.”

  “Oh dear. Why ever did Alfred choose to spend time in such an awful place?”

  “I don’t think it was a free choice he made; he was dependent on the drug, Miss Holland.”

  “Please call me Emma.”

  “And you may call me Penny.” I smiled. “He wasn’t of sound mind when he went to that place, I feel sure of it. Opium has that effect on people.”

  “It’s horrible.” She shuddered. “I hope you don’t mind me distracting you from your work, it’s just that I feel rather helpless in terms of what I can do about my brother’s death. He wasn’t a well man at the end of his life and he may have got himself into trouble, but that doesn’t explain why someone should wish to go into that opium den and shoot him dead.”

  “I wish I had some idea why,” I replied. “Have you spoken with Inspector Reeves about his progress on the case?”

  “I’ve tried, but he hasn’t been a great deal of help. And then he told me that for a payment of three shillings he would take me on a tour of the places where Alfred spent most of his time.”

  I felt angered by this. “What an irresponsible way to behave toward the sister of a murder victim. You declined, I presume.”

  “Of course. I’m not convinced Inspector Reeves is particularly committed to finding Alfred’s murderer.”

  “I’m sure he is.” I secretly agreed with her, but felt I should try to offer some reassurance. “It’s his job to find the culprit.”

  “But how long will it take him?”

  “Hopefully not too long.”

  “I feel rather lost. I’ve never encountered a situation like this before.”

  “Few people have, Emma. It’s natural that you should feel lost.”

  “But you have experience with this type of thing, haven’t you? When I spoke to Inspector Reeves he told me about the other cases you have reported on.”

  “There have been a few.”

  “How were the culprits found?”

  “Each case has been different. The only similarity was the compunction to keep going, no matter how impossible it seemed at the time.”

  “That’s how I feel at the moment. It seems impossible to me that Alfred’s killer will ever be caught.”

  “And that’s why we must never give up.”

  “But it’s rather difficult when you’re reliant on the police to solve it. I wish there was something I could do myself. That’s why I’ve come to see you, Penny. I feel sure that you can do something about Alfred’s murder.”

  I felt a pang of alarm. “I’m not a police officer, Emma. I have no legal powers at all. I would wish to see every murder I report on solved, but my involvement is no guarantee of that.” I felt worried that her faith in my abilities was somewhat misplaced.

  “I realise that, but you have significantly more influence than I do. Who would listen to me? I can’t even convince my parents to take an interest in the case. They washed their hands of my brother a long time ago.”

  “So you want me to help you,” I said, taking a sip of tea.

  “Yes please, Penny.”

  “I may have worked on other cases, but it isn’t always as easy as it sounds. In fact, just a few days ago I resolved not to get too involved in either this case or that of the Forsters. I received a ticking off at Scotland Yard for supposedly interfering.”

  “That sounds rather unjust.”

  “I’m not certain that it was. I am only a news reporter, Emma, and although I have a good friend who is a detective at Scotland Yard there are many other police officers who have little time for me.”

  “Inspector Reeves spoke highly of you.”

  “That is most probably because I paid him three shillings for his opium tour!”

  “So what’s your answer to my request? Are you telling me you cannot help?”

  “I want to, Emma, and I shall, but please don’t rest all your hopes on me as I may be unable to do anything at all.”

  “But you might be able to do something. You have experience of working on some terrible murder cases.”

  “I do, and the experience is useful, but it doesn’t make me an expert. You may be able to do more yourself than you realise.”

  “But I have no idea where to begin.”

  “Do you know if your brother left any diaries or correspondence behind?”

  “There are some papers among his belongings which I collected from his landlord.”

  “Have you looked through them?”

  “I’ve tried to, but I find it too upsetting.”

  “I understand, however it’s important that you read them as we need to find out who your brother was consorting with during the last few months of his life. Please try to read through everything you have and write down the names of any people he has mentioned. It would be particularly interesting to find out whether there was someone he had a disagreement with or anyone he owed money to. We discussed that when we last met, if I recall.”

  “I can do that,” Emma said with a nod. “It won’t be easy, but I think I can manage it.”

  “Good. It won’t be easy, as you say, and you’ll need to do it quickly as Inspector Reeves will soon ask you for your brother’s diaries and correspondence if he’s doing his job properly so that he can do the same. Once he is in possession of them it may be a while before they’re returned to you. If I were you I would go home right away and make a start.”

  Emma nodded. “And when I’ve done it, shall I come and show you what I’ve found out?”

  “Yes, please do. You mentioned that you picked up his belongings from the landlord. Did the landlord have anything useful to say for himself?”

  “No, not really.”

  “It might be worth your while returning to him and asking about your brother’s acquaintances. Perhaps you could take the list of names with you and ask if he has met any of them.”

  “That’s another good idea, Penny, thank you.” Emma smiled. “It’s a relief to feel that there’s something I can do after all.”

  “Of course there is. And if you discover anything else among the papers or from the people you speak to, just write it down. As I discussed with my colleague Edgar earlier, the smallest piece of information can sometimes be surprisingly useful.”

  Emma’s face looked a lot brighter and I realised that, despite my warnings, she was placing all her trust in me. I returned her smile, but it dawned on me that I was now firmly committed to finding out what had happened to Alfred Holland.

  Chapter 26

  As I left the Morning Express offices that evening I found James waiting outside the stationer’s shop again.

  “Were you just passing?” I asked with a smile.

  “No, I confess that I am purposefully here to see you, Penny.” He grinned.

  The sun felt warm on my face as we walked toward the Strand.

  “I must apologise for Cullen’s rude behaviour when you visited the Yard,” he said.

  “Oh you mustn’t apologise for him. I know what he’s like.”

  “But he was unnecessarily obnoxious, and I didn’t like the idea of you being upset by it.”

  “I have come to expect it of him.”

  “But you shouldn’t expect it! Even though I respect the man I consider his behaviour toward you utterly unreasonable.”

  “He was angered by my interference.”

  “You weren’t interfering, Penny.”

  “I’m inclined to think I was a little. I had a think about it afterwards and decided that I need to be far less involved in the stor
ies I am reporting on. I should leave the investigating work to you and the other detectives.”

  “Do you really think so?”

  “Yes, although I came to the decision with some reluctance.”

  “But you don’t really believe that, do you? I hope not, as you’re an extremely useful asset to the police force.”

  I laughed. “You must be the only police officer in London who thinks so!”

  “I’m sure Cullen feels the same. He just has a gruff manner.”

  “He certainly does. I don’t know how you put up with him.”

  “He’s good at his job, and extremely experienced. Anyway, I came here to ask you a favour.”

  “What is it?”

  “I’m struggling to speak to this Chakravarty gentleman.”

  “The one who was defrauded by Forster?”

  “That’s right. He won’t give me any of his time. As I mentioned before, I suspect he’s engaged in some other sort of business which he doesn’t wish to be uncovered. I could become heavy-handed about the whole affair and march him down to the nearest police station but he’s not an official suspect and I would prefer not to do that just yet.”

  “But if he’s not keen on speaking to a detective why should he wish to speak to a news reporter?”

  “I don’t think he would speak to a news reporter, either. However, he would most likely speak to a lady who shows an interest in borrowing some money from him.”

  “And you would like me to be that lady, would you?”

  James’ expression was apologetic. “Would you consider it, Penny?”

  “His suspicions will be raised when I begin asking him questions about Forster, won’t they?”

  “You’re right, they will. The information would need to be coaxed out of him in the course of general conversation. And to hold his interest you’ll need to present yourself as a woman of significant means.”

  “In which case, why would I need to borrow money from him?”

  “Wealthy people are always borrowing money, Penny. What’s important is that he can see that you’ll be able to pay back the sum with interest.”

  “I see. Sadly, I don’t have any clothing that would fit the bill.”