The Loss of the Jane Vosper (12 page)

She was a small, dark, vivacious woman with a capable face and a pleasant manner. Jeffrey had seen her on one or two previous occasions and had been attracted by her lively conversation and bright smile.

But this afternoon she wasn’t smiling. Her features, instead, were pale and drawn with anxiety. Eagerly she asked if Jeffrey had heard anything more.

‘John’s always so careful,’ she went on, ‘to let me know if he’s making any change in his plans. He seldom stays away at night unexpectedly, but if he does he always rings me up. It’s not even as if we weren’t on the telephone: we must be for his job. I can’t understand it. I’m perfectly certain he would have let me know if he could.’

Jeffrey murmured sympathetically.

‘And last night in particular, he had an engagement. He was going to a debating society that he’s fond of. He was going to take part in the debate. It’s not that he was so very specially keen on it, but all the same he wouldn’t have missed it if he could have helped. I’ve been to see the secretary. They were expecting him last night, and he didn’t turn up or send any message.’

For the first time the possibility of something serious having happened entered Jeffrey’s mind. If all this were true, as of course it must be, the circumstances were more disquieting than he had realized. It was easy to suggest reasons why the detective should have been prevented from returning home, but it was scarcely possible to explain why, if nothing were wrong, he had not sent his wife a message.

Jeffrey moved uneasily. ‘He might have met with some slight accident,’ he suggested slowly. ‘He might have been taken to a hospital and they mightn’t have yet got in touch with you.’

Mrs Sutton shook her head. ‘No,’ she answered, ‘I thought of that. But I don’t believe it’s possible. I happen to know that his name and address and telephone number were in his pocketbook. If he had been taken to hospital I’d have heard of it.’

Her earnestness impressed Jeffrey. He had to admit to himself that things were not looking at all well. He wondered where Sutton could have gone after parting with Hislop at Baker Street. Then he remembered what at first had slipped his memory – the rumour about the breaking up of the
Jane Vosper
. Had the man gone down to the shipping office in the hope of learning something about that?

In Mrs Sutton’s presence he rang up the Southern Ocean manager. He was trying to get in touch with his inspector, Mr Sutton. Could Mr Clayton kindly inform him if he was there?

Clayton replied himself. He would have enquiries made, and answer in a few minutes.

While waiting, Jeffrey tried the London Docks. Here there was a similar delay, but presently there were replies from both places. Sutton had not been seen at either of them for a couple of days.

All this did not tend to reassure Mrs Sutton, who, Jeffrey could see, was on the verge of tears. She was obviously acutely uneasy, and at last Jeffrey began to think that murmured reassurances were only exasperating her. He turned to her and gravely asked her if she was afraid of anything?

In her turn she hesitated, as if she didn’t like to put her thoughts into words. ‘It’s his job,’ she said at last. ‘God knows he’s been fair and straight with people – I mean people suspected of crime. But in his job you can’t escape making enemies, and that’s a fact. Because of what he’s done – done rightly and in the course of his job, I mean -many a man’s gone to prison. They won’t forget that, some of them.’

‘I don’t know that you’re right there, Mrs Sutton,’ Jeffrey protested. ‘It’s not a subject I know much about, but I have read more than once that criminals don’t resent the efforts of police and detectives. They recognize they are not following them out of malice, but only because it’s their job. I see, of course, what you’re hinting at, but I really don’t think you need have any fears on that score.’

‘Then what has happened?’ she returned quickly. ‘Is there any other way in which you can account for it?’

This proved a very searching question. Jeffrey found it extremely hard to tackle. For some minutes they discussed it, and then he asked her plump and plain if she would like him to report the matter to the police?

It was obvious at once that this was what she wanted. While she had hesitated about making her fears public, she was now so frightened that she would only be satisfied if some drastic action were taken. Jeffrey stretched out his hand to the telephone, then withdrew it and turned to her.

‘His job must have brought him into contact with the police,’ he said. ‘Is there anyone, say at Scotland Yard, who knows him, or with whom he was friendly?’

‘There were a number,’ she answered. ‘There was one officer at the Yard he knew well; but, of course, since his promotion he hasn’t seen so much of him. That’s Inspector French – now Chief-Inspector.’

Jeffrey nodded as he again picked up his receiver. He asked for Whitehall 1212, and then after a short delay went on: ‘Is Chief-Inspector French in the building…? Yes, please put me through. Mr Jeffrey, manager of the Land and Sea Insurance Company.’

There was a short further delay, then a strange voice said, ‘Chief-Inspector French speaking.’

Jeffrey told his story and the strange voice said, ‘Very good, sir, I’ll look into it. Perhaps you would ask Mrs Sutton to wait at your office till someone arrives. It would be quicker to see her there than elsewhere, and I presume you could grant the use of a room?’

Jeffrey said he would be pleased to do so, and French replied that someone would be sent at once.

Though Chief Detective-Inspector French had replied in a formal way to Jeffrey’s call, he was distressed enough by the message.

He had not been exactly intimate with Sutton, but he had met him in connection with various cases and had developed a genuine liking and respect for him. Though Sutton had never been in the police force, he was a fellow detective, working through different machinery it was true, but still working towards the same great end as was French himself. If anything had happened to him, French would treat it almost as a personal matter.

And it might well be that something had happened to him. Those guilty of insurance frauds were as dangerous a type of criminal as any other, and men in Sutton’s position were much more vulnerable to attack than were the official police. They worked alone. They had behind them no great organization such as that which sustained French and his colleagues. Their discoveries were much more likely to be known only to themselves than in the case of a Yard officer, who worked as a member of a team rather than as an individual. Correspondingly their ‘removal’ was much more likely to safeguard a dangerous secret than would the murder of a policeman.

Another reason why French took a personal interest in the matter was that on one occasion when they were both engaged on the same case, Sutton had taken him home to supper. There French had met Mrs Sutton and her two daughters. He had liked all three, and now that they were in trouble he felt it was up to him to see that everything possible was done to help them.

French was feeling very keen and fit. It was not long since he had returned from his annual holiday – long enough to have got rid of the holiday slackness, but not long enough to have lost the benefit of the change.

He had had a splendid holiday, one of the best he had ever taken. He had not gone to Amsterdam, as he had intended at the conclusion of the case of the jewellery stolen from Nornes, Limited. A friend had recommended south-western France, and he and Mrs French had gone on a General Steam Navigation boat to Bordeaux, and from there had worked south to Biarritz and along the Pyrenees as far as Bagnères-de-Bigorre. They had spent a few days at Cauteret and had loved exploring the beautiful valley and its surrounding hills, and they had been thrilled by the drive up into the mountains to the Cirque de Gavarnie. But it had been hot in the plain: too hot for pleasure.

French’s first consideration on receiving notification of a possible crime was to decide whom he should send to make the preliminary enquiries. But in this case with its personal reflex he quickly determined to go himself. If necessary as the matter developed he could put someone else in charge. But he felt he would like to hear the circumstances at first hand.

He went along the corridor to Sir Mortimer Ellison’s room, reported the call, and obtained the Assistant Commissioner’s approval of his plan. Then calling Sergeant Carter, he set off. They took the District Railway to Mark Lane and walked to the Land and Sea Company’s offices in Mincing Lane. There French asked for Jeffrey, and was immediately shown into his office. Jeffrey was alone.

‘I asked Mrs Sutton to wait for you,’ Jeffrey said when greetings had passed. ‘Perhaps you would like to see her first?’

‘Yes,’ French answered. ‘I won’t be very long with her, and then she can go home. Then, sir, I should like a word with you, if convenient.’

‘I shall be here,’ Jeffrey agreed, ringing for his pretty secretary to take the visitors to the waiting-room.

Mrs Sutton jumped up as they entered and came forward with hands outstretched. ‘Oh, Mr French,’ she exclaimed, ‘I’m so glad to see you. I’m in such trouble. Have they told you?’

‘They’ve told me that Sutton didn’t turn up last night and that you’re anxious about him. But, my dear lady, you mustn’t be upset. A thousand things may have prevented him getting home.’

‘Oh, no, it’s something serious,’ she declared. ‘I know it! I feel it! He was so good that way. He never stayed away without letting me know. Something dreadful has happened.’

‘Now, now,’ said French cheerily, ‘that won’t do at all. You mustn’t meet trouble halfway. Tell me all about it and we’ll see what can be done.’

‘There’s nothing to tell: that’s just the difficulty. Nothing except the one thing – that he didn’t come home last night, and that there’s been no news from him.’

‘Don’t you worry, we’ll soon find him for you. But I shall have to ask you a lot of questions, just as I would do in any other case.’

‘Anything! Anything I can do! And I’m so grateful to you for coming so quickly and undertaking the search.’

‘We’ll do our best for you. You may be sure of that. Well, now, let’s begin at the beginning. When did you see Sutton last?’

‘At breakfast yesterday morning. He left at his usual time: everything just as usual. He never comes in for lunch, and he was due for supper at seven. But he never came.’

Soon French had the whole story; and he had then to admit that Mrs Sutton was right: it contained only the one outstanding fact – that the man was missing. French took notes of what he was told – the normality of everything in the immediate past, the fact that Sutton had intended to be in punctually to supper on account of his debating society’s meeting, his unfailing habit of ringing up when detained, his practice of keeping his name, address and telephone number in his pocketbook, the serge suit he was wearing of grey with a tiny check pattern. Then French began to ask more general questions.

‘What cases has he on hand at present, Mrs Sutton?’

‘He was acting for this company on that steamer case, the
Jane
Vosper
. You may have seen about it in the papers?’

French had read of it, but had not followed it closely.

‘It was sunk, the steamer,’ Mrs Sutton went on. ‘Explosions took place on board, and they thought they were done on purpose. The Land and Sea had insured part of the cargo, and John was trying to find out if there was foul play, so that perhaps the Land and Sea wouldn’t have to pay.’

‘That all?’

‘No, he was on a fire case for the Land and Sea as well. Also a case for Appleby’s of Henrietta Street. You know them: another insurance company. A fire, too. He didn’t think anything was wrong there. And there was a personal injury case for Johns and Wilcox. I think those were all.’

French noted the names. ‘Any recent letters, or phone messages, or callers?’

‘You can look through his desk. There was nothing that he made any remark about. And I don’t think there were any phone messages. But Mr Murphy was in the night before last.’

‘Mr Murphy?’

‘Mr Peter Murphy. He’s in the same line of business as John: an insurance detective. He acts for Lloyd’s, I think, though I’m not very sure. He’s an Irishman, and a very nice man. He and John were good friends.’

‘That the only recent caller?’ said French, noting Murphy’s name.

‘The only one.’

‘Very good. I think that’s all I want at present. You go home now and I’ll follow you and have a look through his desk. You haven’t a photograph of him, I suppose?’

‘Not here, I haven’t. But there are some at home.’

‘Then I’ll get one when I call. Well, Mrs Sutton, that’s all we can do here. I hope we’ll soon have some good news for you.’

‘I’m so grateful,’ she said as she got up. ‘It is an ease to my mind, your knowing about it.’

‘Doesn’t look well to me,’ French said to Carter when the woman had left. ‘I read about that
Jane
Vosper
case, and it’s a big case. If a bunch of crooks are willing to sink a ship in mid-Atlantic and run the risk of drowning thirty or forty men, they wouldn’t hesitate long to put an insurance detective out of the way if he got to know too much.’

‘ ’Fraid I didn’t read about it, sir. It was when I was on my holidays.’

‘Better employed, I suppose. Well, we’ll go and hear what this Jeffrey has to say while we’re here.’

Jeffrey was very willing to tell them all he could, and not only because Sutton was his employee, though he was sincerely concerned about him. But he felt that any information Scotland Yard could obtain about the missing man might also be information about the loss of the
Jane
Vosper
. By all means this chief-inspector must be helped in every possible way.

Accordingly he gave French all particulars about the case so far as he knew them. He described the negotiations which had led to his company’s insuring the sets. The Weaver Bannister people had first written, mentioning the consignment they were sending to South America, and asking for a quotation for its cover
en
route
. The Land and Sea Company had replied, asking for a description of the goods and a declaration of their value. This had been given, and a rate had been quoted, accepted and paid. His company was now facing the question of liability.