Finished Off (A Bellehaven House Mystery Book 2) (12 page)

"It was. Most upsetting." Clark drew a deep breath. "Anyway, as assistant manager, it was left to me to take over his duties. It didn't take very long to uncover the discrepancies in his records. Mr. Lewis had embezzled a considerable amount of funds and deposited them in his own account."

"I see." Meredith took a moment to digest this news. "How well did you know Mr. Lewis, outside of the bank, I mean?"

"I knew very little about his personal life, save that he had a wife and two children." Clark clicked his fingers. "Oh, and a brother. Maybe he can tell you whatever it is you want to know. He and his wife live at the other end of Witcheston, in a flat over Spicers, the ironmongers. I don't think they had much to do with each other. George Lewis spent most of his time with his own family, from what I heard."

Meredith stared at him. "Mr. Lewis had a brother? I was under the impression there was no other family."

The manager shrugged. "As I said, they didn't have much to do with each other."

Meredith had to wonder why Emma's uncle hadn't offered to give her a home. "This is all such a tragedy." She sighed. "A whole family gone . . . that little baby . . . such a terrible way to die."

"Yes, well, I'm afraid I can't help you any further." Clark leapt to his feet, startling her. "I'm a very busy man, Mrs. Llewellyn, as I'm sure you can appreciate."

"Oh, yes, of course." Feeling somewhat belittled, Meredith hastily rose to her feet. "I shan't trouble you any further. Thank you for your time."

His tone still curt, he showed her to the door. "Not at all. I wish I could say it was a pleasure, but frankly, any conversation about that man is quite disturbing."

Bidding him good day, Meredith left the office and made her way out of the bank. Deep in thought, she paused on the pavement, trying to come to terms with what she'd heard. George Lewis was an embezzler. It must have been kept quiet, since Mrs. Philpot hadn't mentioned it.

She thought about the elegant house that had been so cruelly damaged by the fire. It seemed the Lewis family had a comfortable living. Why would George Lewis find it necessary to embezzle money? Gambling losses, which he'd tried to hide from his wife? A business failure of some kind? Had he been paying someone to keep quiet about something he didn't want revealed?

So many possibilities, always assuming that the fire was not an accident and the family had been killed by someone, which was pure conjecture at this point since she really didn't know for sure.

If it wasn't for Emma, she'd just let it all slide. After all, if George Lewis was the kind of man who stole money for whatever reason, maybe it was just as well the child would not be spending eternity in his company.

Then again, she only had to think about Emma's beseeching eyes and she knew she had to pursue this thing to the bitter end. Or at least explore every possibility until she knew for certain what it was Emma was trying to tell her.

Chapter 9

"There you are, m'm." Reggie suddenly appeared in
front of Meredith, cap in hand. "I had to take Major around the town. He got a little skittish standing at the curb here." Reggie winced as a motor car backfired in his ear.

So absorbed had she been with her thoughts, Meredith hadn't even noticed the carriage wasn't waiting for her outside the bank. "Where is he? Where did you leave the carriage?"

"Don't worry, m'm. Major's safe as houses, tied up in the courtyard of the Pig and Whistle."

She frowned. "I assume that's a public house."

"Yes, m'm. I'd suggest you join me in the ladies' lounge for a pint, but it's a bit rowdy right now. I don't think it'd be your cup of tea."

"Quite right, Reggie." She tilted her head to one side. "Do they have food at this Pig and . . . what was it?"

"Whistle, m'm." He pursed his lips and whistled a few notes. "Nice place." He looked more closely at her. "You peckish, m'm? They do have tables outside if you want a bite to eat." He glanced up at the sky. "Bit nippy with that wind and all, but it's sheltered in the beer garden."

"Well, since we'll both miss the midday meal at Bellehaven, I think a sandwich and a glass of cider would be very nice."

"Right you are, m'm." Reggie grinned at her. "Right this way."

She trotted to keep up with him as he led the way down several streets until they had left the hustle and bustle of the town behind.

"There it is, m'm." Reggie pointed ahead to the heavily beamed walls of the pub looming above the hedges. "The Pig and Whistle. Built two hundred years ago, so they say."

"Really." Meredith paused in front of the sturdy building to catch her breath. Tobacco smoke poured from the lower windows and was immediately snatched away by the wind. The babel of raucous voices inside convinced her to brave the chill and sit out in the beer garden to eat her sandwich.

Reggie escorted her to one of the tables, over which a red and white striped umbrella shaded her from the sun. "I'll be back in half a mo'," he told her. "Roast beef all right for you?"

She nodded her thanks, and watched him hurry off toward the side door of the pub. While he was gone, she thought about the news Howard Clark had given her. George Lewis must have had a compelling reason to risk embezzling money. He must have known it would come to light eventually. If she knew the reason, she might be closer to finding out what really happened the night the house caught fire.

Perhaps Mr. Lewis's brother could help her. It was odd that he and his wife didn't take Emma in. What kind of brother was he to allow that helpless child to be taken to an orphanage?

She would visit him that very afternoon, before she returned to Crickling Green. She wanted to meet the man who could so easily turn his back on his brother's child.

Not only that, he might be able to shed light on George
Lewis's financial situation. There could have been many reasons why he would have needed money so desperately. She frowned, trying to imagine the kind of circumstances that would compel an apparently respected, honorable man to steal.

Reggie interrupted her thoughts, returning with hefty roast beef sandwiches, her glass of cider, and a foaming glass of ale. Sitting opposite her, he gave her a rueful grin.

"Can't hear yourself think in there," he said, nodding at the pub, where echoes of the uproar inside floated across the grass. "Good job you decided to sit out here."

"It's very pleasant out here." Meredith helped herself to a sandwich, wondering what Sylvia Montrose would say if she saw the sedate headmistress of Bellehaven sharing lunch in a beer garden with the handyman.

For some reason a vision of Stuart Hamilton popped into her mind, and for a brief instant she wondered what he would think of her rather indelicate behavior. Not that it mattered to her, she hastily told herself, and concentrated instead on what Reggie was saying.

". . . so I gave him a drink and a slap on his rump."

Meredith raised her eyebrows. "I beg your pardon?"

Reggie looked confused. "Major. I was saying as how I felt sorry for him, so I gave him a drink of water."

"Oh, I see." Meredith took another bite of the sandwich.

"He does good for an old horse."

"Yes, he does." She reached for her cider and took a sip. It warmed her with a pleasant sensation as it went down.

"Course, it must be hard on him, all this unaccustomed exercise."

Something in Reggie's tone alerted her, and she peered at him. "Are you worried about Major?"

Reggie had just bitten a chunk out of his sandwich, and he chewed on it with fierce determination until he could swallow. "Well, m'm, to tell the truth, I was wondering how he would hold up if you intended to do much more running around like this."

He must have seen her expression change, since he added quickly, "Not that I'm not enjoying it, m'm. It's right nice to be out and about instead of cooped up in the school all the time. Not that I mind that, of course. I mean, I like my job and all, but it makes a change, dunnit, to get out now and again, and . . ."

His voice trailed off as she continued to look at him.

"It's none of my business, m'm. Forget I said anything."

Feeling sorry for him, she put down her sandwich with a sigh. "Reggie, I know you're concerned about Major, and I don't blame you. I've been thinking about him myself. I've considered asking Mr. Hamilton if we may acquire another horse, so that Major has a chance to rest now and then."

Reggie's face filled with hope. "Does that mean you'll be doing some more running around then, Mrs. L?"

Meredith paused to consider whether or not she objected to being reduced to an initial, then dismissed the matter as trivial. There was something far more important to be addressed, and she needed to take care of it right then and there.

It was becoming increasingly apparent that she could not keep her investigating venture a secret from Reggie for long. What's more, knowing her handyman's lively curiosity, in attempting to find out exactly what she was up to, he could very well expose her activities to the wrong person.

Deliberately she erased the vision of Stuart Hamilton. The only safe avenue open to her was to take Reggie into her confidence. As much as he needed to know, anyway. She could only hope that she could trust in his discretion.

Realizing that he was still waiting for her answer, she took another sip of cider. "Reggie, I need to tell you something, but before I do, I must ask for your sworn oath that it will go no further. I must insist on complete and utter secrecy, no matter who may ask you questions. Do I have your word?"

Reggie's dark blue eyes gleamed with excitement. Laying
a hand on his heart, he declared in a solemn voice, "I swear on my dear departed mother's grave that no secrets you tell me shall ever pass me lips. Not to another living soul. So help me."

Satisfied, she gave him a brief nod. "I'm taking you into my confidence, Reggie, because there may be a time when I need you by my side. But if word of any of this gets out, it could be the end of employment at Bellehaven for both of us."

Practically jumping up and down with anticipation, Reggie leaned forward. "Is it illegal, then? You're breaking the law?"

"Oh, good heavens, I hope not."

"Like when you went inside that burnt house?"

She stared at him. "That was illegal?"

He shrugged. "Well, I don't know for sure, of course, but it could be."

Horrified, she quickly swallowed a mouthful of cider, then choked on it when it stung her throat. "But the house wasn't locked or anything," she said hoarsely when she could speak.

Reggie looked doubtful. "Well, it could be all right, then, I suppose, but—"

"Well, never mind that now." Meredith hunted in her handbag for her handkerchief, found it, and delicately dabbed her mouth. If she had broken the law, it was too late to worry about it now. Tucking the handkerchief back in her handbag, she said more calmly, "The point is, I'm conducting an investigation into the deaths of the Lewis family."

The shock on Reggie's face was comical. "You're working for the bobbies?"

"No, no!" She held on to her glass for comfort. "This is entirely on my own, for my own reasons."

Reggie frowned. "Who's the Lewis family?"

"The people who died in that house fire."

His face cleared. "Oh, them." He thought about it, then frowned again. "You knew them?"

"Not exactly." She paused, then decided it wasn't com
pletely a lie, though she did seem to be bending the truth a lot lately. She added, "I am well acquainted with a member of the family, however."

"Oh, all right then." His frown returned. "Why did they ask you to investigate? Why didn't they go to the bobbies?"

"Because the . . . ah . . . constables don't believe it wasn't an accident."

"It wasn't?" Reggie eyes widened. "How'd you know that?"

"I don't, for certain." She met his gaze steadily. "That's what I'm investigating."

"Ah, I see." He sat back. "I think. So that's why you're doing all this running around."

"Yes. I have people I need to talk to about the family. Which brings me to the subject in hand. Are you familiar with an ironmongers named Spicers?"

"Spicers? Yeah, I've seen it in the High Street in Witcheston."

"Yes, well, apparently other members of the family live in a flat over the shop. I'd like to go and talk to them before we return to Bellehaven."

Reggie looked worried. He pulled a pocket watch from the back pocket of his trousers and peered at it. "It's getting late, Mrs. L. Don't you have to be back at the school to take classes?"

"Not this afternoon. I gave the students an assignment to do in their rooms instead. Just in case I was delayed in returning to the school."

He nodded, and put the watch back in his pocket. "I have just one question, m'm, if you don't mind."

She smiled at him. "Fire away, Reggie. I'll answer if I can."

"Is this investigation of yours likely to be dangerous? I mean, should I be carrying a pistol or something, in case we get into trouble?"

She almost laughed. "Reggie, I assure you, we won't be in any more danger than losing a handrail. I promise you won't need a pistol to defend me."

He looked vastly relieved. "Well, then, I'm your man. Just tell me what you want me to do and I'll be there."

"Right now all I want you to do is drive me to the iron-mongers. That's if you think Major is up to it?"

"What?" He shook his head. "Oh, yes, m'm. He'll be fine. He's had a rest, though I think he'll be happy once he gets back to his stable again."

"Yes, I really must tackle Mr. Hamilton about another horse." She finished the last of her sandwich, then drained her glass. The cider had warmed her tummy and relaxed her, giving her the comfortable feeling that she was capable of tackling anything that came her way.

True, her head felt a little light when she stood up, and her step was a trifle unsteady as she followed Reggie around to the courtyard, but altogether she felt quite pleased with herself, and the way she was handling this adventure.

To be quite honest with herself, she found it all most exhilarating. She couldn't wait to meet George Lewis's brother and find out why he might have been driven to steal a great deal of money, and risk everything worth having in his life.