As if by Magic (10 page)

‘Where there's no foreign opposition?' asked Jack.

Lloyd nodded. ‘Exactly, Major. Cairo to the Cape is a possible and potentially lucrative route. Van Ryneveld flew it in 1920 and since then a good few others have gone the same way. However, it's one thing to fly it as a special expedition and quite another to set up a commercial air route. Mr Culverton would have done it, though.' He drew a deep sigh. ‘I don't know what we're going to do without him. He had such vision! He had a route planned to India.'

‘India?'
repeated Jack incredulously. ‘You can't fly a commercial aircraft to India.'

Lloyd smiled at Jack's reaction. ‘Mr Culverton had every intention of doing so. It would, gentlemen, be the proverbial goldmine.' He indicated the route on the map. ‘Look. Down through the Red Sea to Aden, on to Kamar Bay and then either to Karachi or Bombay.'

‘But that last leg's a journey of around a thousand miles,' said Jack. ‘There's no commercial aircraft that can tackle that distance.' He paused. ‘I suppose an airship could do it. Is that what Mr Culverton had in mind?'

Mr Lloyd smiled once more. ‘No, he wasn't thinking of an airship. Mr Culverton was working in close association with the Lassiter Aircraft Company. Mr Nigel Lassiter, with funding from Mr Culverton, is developing a flying-boat which will be quite unlike any seen before. Mr Lassiter is probably the best designer in Britain today. In my opinion he's nothing short of a genius.' Lloyd took a cigarette from the box on the desk and lit it thoughtfully. ‘The trouble is, it's all a race against time and now Mr Culverton's dead I don't know if it'll ever happen. There are two other investors, Dr Roger Maguire of Harley Street and Martin Ridgeway of Croft and Ridgeway, the merchant bankers, but compared with Mr Culverton their stake was very small beer. Mr Lassiter's flying-boat is near completion but time is running very short.'

‘What's the hurry?' asked Rackham. ‘Is anyone else in the running?'

Lloyd shook his head. ‘No, it's not that. Nobody else, as far as I know, has even considered a route to India. It's the government that's the problem. There are too many British airlines and the foreign companies, who receive assistance from their governments, are gradually chipping away at British concerns. So there's a plan afoot – it should come off next year – to amalgamate all the major British airlines into one government-backed company. Now if Mr Culverton could have got the India route established, the chances are it would have been taken over as a going concern and he would have been appointed as a director of the new company.' He shrugged. ‘A great deal depends on Mrs Culverton. Without the funds from this company I doubt if Mr Lassiter will be able to complete the project. Not for some time, anyway.'

‘Is she likely to withdraw funding?' asked Jack. ‘I mean, if the flying-boat is nearly ready, why should she? You said the route was a goldmine.'

Lloyd paused before answering. ‘I am not, you understand, making any sort of criticism of Mr Culverton. However, if I was called upon to advise Mrs Culverton, I would suggest that a formal contract be drawn up between us and Lassiter's before she continued. We have plunged huge amounts of money into the aircraft and I am unclear as to the exact nature of the return. I have tried to ascertain the details of the arrangement before now but without success.'

‘What if she simply pulls the plug?' asked Jack.

‘You mean if she stops the funding altogether?' Lloyd paused again. ‘I don't know,' he said eventually. ‘In that case it would be unlikely that Mrs Culverton would get the directorship of the new government-backed airline but, as you can imagine, that's rather unlikely anyway. Even today, people would be unwilling to accept a woman in such a role. As a matter of fact, we might be better off. As I say, we are putting a great deal of money into this aircraft of Lassiter's and I can't deny the company is suffering as a result. Work that should be done as a matter of course is not being carried out . . .'

‘Such as checking the undercarriage of an aeroplane landing in Paris?' asked Jack softly.

Mr Lloyd blenched. ‘You did not hear me suggest any such thing, Major Haldean.' He pulled nervously on his cigarette. ‘However . . .' He left the sentence hanging in the air. ‘Mr Culverton in many ways played things close to his chest. I will be in a better position to advise Mrs Culverton once I have checked the documents I have not hitherto been able to see. My feeling is that the business is essentially sound. We might find that in these changed circumstances we are well advised not to pioneer a new route but to stick to the routes we have already established. However, that decision is not mine to make.'

Rackham drew himself forward in his chair. ‘I'd like to ask you about the last time you saw Mr Culverton, sir. That was Wednesday, 31st October.'

‘That's correct. I left the building at five thirty. Mr Culverton was still here.'

‘How was his manner that day, sir? Was Mr Culverton his usual self?'

Lloyd frowned. ‘I thought you'd ask me that, Inspector, and I've been trying to think how best to answer. At first sight his manner was perfectly ordinary but a couple of times during the day he seemed abstracted.'

‘Was he annoyed or irritable?'

‘No, not especially.' Lloyd's frown deepened. ‘He seemed pleased about something. It's difficult to describe exactly. It was as if he had a scheme in mind, something he was looking forward to.' He shook his head impatiently. ‘I can't tell you any more. Mr Culverton was not given to confidences and it was just an impression.'

‘It's worth bearing in mind though, sir,' said Rackham. ‘Was it customary for Mr Culverton to work late?'

‘Fairly customary. He lived in Richmond, as you know, Inspector, but he had rooms at his club, the Mulciber in St James's, and usually stayed there during the week.'

Rackham nodded. ‘Mrs Culverton said as much when I spoke to her earlier on.'

‘He often changed here, as a matter of fact.' Lloyd walked across the room and opened a door in the far wall. ‘This is all fitted out as a dressing room. There's a bath, a wash-basin, a dressing table, wardrobes and everything he needed.'

‘Did he change here on Wednesday night?' asked Rackham.

Lloyd thought for a moment. ‘Yes, he would have done. He told me to see the charwoman on my way out and tell her to do this room last. That meant he was going to be using it.'

‘Did you know he was supposed to be flying to Paris on Thursday?'

‘No, Inspector. The first I knew of it was a note I received the next morning. I still have the note, in case you want to see it, but the gist is that he was leaving for Paris on Thursday morning. He asked me to cancel his appointments for the next couple of days and inform Mrs Culverton he had been called away. He said he would advise me later as to his return. He didn't actually say that he was going to Paris as a result of the accident but that must have been the reason. If you recall, the accident happened at four o'clock and I imagine the Paris office contacted Mr Culverton in the course of the evening.'

‘That's something we can probably check,' said Rackham. ‘Have you any idea what he did when he left the office?'

‘I thought of that, too,' said Lloyd. He walked to the desk and took a book from the drawer. ‘This is his appointments diary.' Lloyd opened the book and turned it round so Jack and Rackham could see.

‘Wednesday 31st October,'
read Rackham. ‘There's a couple of meetings and so on during the day but the entry for the evening reads,
Dinner – Mulciber – N.L. and R.M. – 7.30. Paris
.'

‘Who are N.L. and R.M?' asked Jack.

‘I imagine that's Mr Nigel Lassiter and Dr Roger Maguire.'

Rackham looked pleased. ‘Well, if they did have dinner with him that's another part of the evening accounted for.' He closed his notebook. ‘I think that's about all we can find out here.' He glanced at Jack. ‘Is there anything you'd like to know?'

‘I wouldn't mind looking round for a few more minutes, if that's all right with you, Mr Lloyd.'

‘Be my guest. If you can dispense with my services for the time being, I'll be in my office. I have quite a lot of work to catch up with, as you can imagine.'

‘Just before you go,' said Jack, ‘can you tell us the names of any of Mr Culverton's friends?'

Lloyd looked blank. ‘I really can't say, Major. As far as I know, Mr Culverton had no close personal friends. He was devoted to the business and any social engagements were usually connected with the firm in some way.'

‘So no interests or hobbies at all?'

Lloyd very nearly smiled. ‘No, Major. If you had known Mr Culverton you would realize how improbable a suggestion that is.' He walked to the door. ‘I shall be in the next room if you require anything further.'

Lloyd left the two men together. ‘Mr Culverton sounds a barrel of laughs,' said Rackham. ‘What did you want to look for in here, Jack? Anything in particular?'

Jack hitched himself on to the massive desk. ‘Some sort of clue as to who he was, I suppose. He doesn't sound a very well-loved sort, does he?' He nodded towards the painting behind him. ‘I might be reading too much into it but I don't think our Mr Culverton was a very pleasant bloke.'

‘Someone obviously agreed with you,' said Rackham drily. ‘I'll say this for him though, he clearly had personality. I know his wife left him but she married him in the first place and she was the one with the money, don't forget. He must have had something going for him,'

‘Yes,' agreed Jack. The image of the Holbein portrait was very strong in his mind. ‘I think he was a bully.'

Rackham laughed. ‘He might have been. I don't see how you can possibly be so sure though.'

‘It's the pictures of him. That and Mr Lloyd's reactions.' Jack got off the desk and wandered round it, opening the drawers at random. ‘What can this desk tell us? There's clean blotting paper in the blotter, so no clue there.' He opened a drawer. ‘Pens, paper-clips, a hole-punch and so on,' he said, rummaging through the contents. ‘Headed notepaper, a box of cigars and two lighters. There's something else right at the back. It's a box of some sort.' He pulled it out. It was about the same size as a cashbox but made of highly ornamented polished rosewood.

‘That's a striking thing,' said Rackham. ‘I wonder why he buried it at the back of his desk?' He picked it up. ‘How does it open? It seems to be a solid block of wood. There's no keyhole.'

‘Try pressing the sides in,' said Jack. ‘That might do it.'

They both tried but the box stayed obstinately shut. ‘I think I'll leave a receipt with Mr Lloyd and take this with me,' said Rackham. ‘You never know, it looks as if it might be important. Someone at Scotland Yard ought to be able to open it.' He looked round the room. ‘What next?'

‘His dressing room?' suggested Jack.

He led the way to the dressing room Gilchrist Lloyd had shown them and into the bathroom. It was fitted out as luxuriously as the office, but with pink rather than green marble, gold taps, a full-length gold-framed mirror and soft white towels. A huge white bath stood against the wall. Jack opened a door off the bathroom. ‘The lavatory. Good God!'

‘What is it?' asked Rackham eagerly.

‘He's got pink curtains to match the wall. Now that really is a bit much.'

‘Honestly, Jack,' complained Rackham. ‘I thought you'd found something.'

‘Well, it is a bit much. Don't you think?'

‘I think he certainly liked his home comforts,' said Rackham. He looked at the shelf by the wash-basin which held gold-and-tortoiseshell-backed brushes and combs with the initials A.C. inscribed on them, a collection of little bottles, a soap-dish, shaving brush and razor. ‘I'll take a couple of those bottles with me. They should have his fingerprints on them.'

Jack looked at the shelf. ‘I bet even my cousin Isabelle hasn't got as much stuff as this.' He opened a bottle and sniffed it. ‘Cologne. Rather a nice one if you like that sort of thing. Soap in a very fetching little dish and various unguents, all from Floris. Well, he certainly went for the best.' Jack picked up the shaving brush and held it idly. ‘A hugely expensive shaving brush and a razor. He went in for the safety variety, I see. It's easier to shave yourself with one of those.'

‘I'm surprised he didn't get his valet to shave him,' commented Rackham.

Jack put the brush back on the shelf. ‘It's a bit far to pop down to Richmond for a wash and brush-up.'

Rackham shook his head. ‘His valet stayed at the Mulciber Club during the week. Mrs Culverton told me. He's on my list of people to interview.'

Jack turned to look at his friend. ‘His valet stayed at the Mulciber Club? But . . .' He frowned at Rackham. ‘That doesn't make sense.'

‘What d'you mean?'

Jack indicated the bathroom shelf. ‘Look at all this stuff, Bill. The bloke must have been as vain as a peacock. At the very least he was unduly careful of his personal appearance, wouldn't you say?'

‘Undoubtedly so.'

‘Then why does a man who goes to such lengths about his looks change here when there's a valet waiting for him at the club where he's going to spend the evening? If you have a valet, the evening is when you need him most. He could have been going to see someone else first, I suppose, and had to change for that, but if he was meeting Nigel Lassiter and this Dr Maguire at half past seven it doesn't give him much leeway.'

Rackham started to speak, then stopped. ‘That is odd,' he said eventually. ‘That really is odd. I wonder if he was meeting anyone else first? I have to talk to both Nigel Lassiter and Roger Maguire anyway, so I'll ask them. They might know. Is there anything else you want to have a look at?'