Page 59 of Speculations in Sin

“I had a bit of leave coming,” Mr. Kearny said in answer tomy silent question. “I always take a day out now and then, to take care of personal business I don’t often have time to do. Send money to my mother, and that sort of thing.” He laughed weakly, as though fearing we’d mock him for being kind to his mum.

“Most admirable,” I assured him.

While I very much wanted to quiz Mr. Kearny about Daalman’s, I also wanted to be alone with Joanna and tell her about my visit with Sam. I noted the children were absent—presumably, Joanna had sent them upstairs when Mr. Kearny arrived. A muffled thump above us confirmed that.

“I will do anything to help old Sam,” Mr. Kearny said. “I know in my heart he isnota murderer. Magistrate thought nothing of my vouching for him though. The man made me admit I had no idea where Sam was in the small hours of Monday morning.”

“Well,Iknow,” Joanna said angrily. “He was asleep in his bed. In the morning, he went out, yes, but to purchase eggs from a grocer. I tried to tell the constables this when they ran roughshod all over my house. Everyone here can attest that he brought the eggs home. Quite good ones too.”

A vicious prosecutor could make the case that Sam had thrown away all the eggs in the house to invent an excuse to leave on this early errand. He claimed he had to walk all the way to Leadenhall Market to find a vendor, which was why witnesses had seen him near Daalman’s early that morning.

“Mr. Millburn does not have a key to the strong room,” I pointed out. “After Mr. Stockley was killed, the door was locked again. Sam could not have done that, could he?”

Mr. Kearny flushed. “As it happens, I heard yesterday that the police inspector who came to Daalman’s to go throughMillburn’s things found both keys to the strong room hidden under his desk. In a sort of cubby under the desktop.”

Joanna made a noise of distress. “It is nonsense. Sam would never have stolen those keys.”

Mr. Kearny looked unhappy. “I am so sorry, Mrs. Millburn. I didn’t mean to spring that upon you.”

“Anyone could have put them under his desk,” I said. I vowed Sam didn’t know anything about them. He certainly hadn’t betrayed any guilt about keys this morning. Was bewildered by the whole business, instead. “Quite a number of people work in the junior clerks’ room, and more must go in and out.”

“That is true.” Mr. Kearny seized on my argument in relief. “Everyone enters the junior clerks’ room. All the senior clerks, the bankers—me included. Even Mr. Zachary from time to time, though he usually sends an errand boy to pick up or deliver papers for him.” He perked up. “One of the boys could have hidden them in his desk.”

“Is there anyone you can trust to remember who was near Sam’s desk?” I asked. “It would also be very helpful to have a list of who went in and out the day of Mr. Stockley’s murder.”

“Not certain if any of that lot aretrustworthy,” Mr. Kearny said with good humor, then lost his smile when he caught Joanna’s anguished glance. “I beg your pardon. There are one or two gentlemen who are honest and bright. I can ask them.”

“Doyouhave a key to the strong room?” I asked. I widened my eyes, as though ready to be awed that he was important enough to possess one.

“I do indeed.” Mr. Kearny preened a bit under my gaze. “Here it is.” He reached into his waistcoat pocket and pulled out several keys on a chain. “This one.”

He lifted the largest key, which was thick and sturdy. I wishedDaniel was here—he could probably tell what sort of lock the key fit and what year it had been installed.

“It looks old,” I said.

“It is an old building,” Mr. Kearny said. “That particular strong room doesn’t hold much of importance anymore. Historical papers and that sort of thing. Anything we need nowadays is in a newer strong room, installed probably ten years ago, on the second floor.” He held up a key that looked a bit more modern, its metal still shiny. “This one goes to that.”

I let myself look impressed. My point in having Mr. Kearny reveal his keys was to check whether or nothiskey had been slid under Sam’s desk to incriminate him. As a friend of Sam’s, he could have had more opportunity to get close to the desk.

Keys could be copied, I reminded myself. Mr. Kearny wasn’t in the clear yet.

“As a matter of fact, I was one of the fellows who opened the door upstairs and found Mr. Stockley,” Mr. Kearny said, his color rising once more. “I’d come in late myself—I live with my family out Harrow way, and I was stuck on a train that wouldn’t move for some reason. Miss Swann, when she saw me try to slip in, ordered me upstairs. Chandler, head of the junior clerks’ room, was already waiting on the third floor along with another banker, Mr. Kendell, who has a strong room key. Miss Swann bade Kendell and me to unlock the door for her. She was quite angry that she had to ask for our help, but good job she did, seeing as there was Mr. Stockley with his head all bloody, flat on the floor. Begging your pardon, Mrs. Millburn,” he added hastily.

Joanna had gone wan, but drew a resolute breath. “It is quite all right, Mr. Kearny. I can weather it.”

“The keys are different?” I asked. “Miss Swann needed you and Mr. Kendell both to open the door?”

“Yes, that’s right.” Mr. Kearny happily returned to the subject. “All the strong rooms are like that—the newer ones that hold the bullion need three. So that one of us doesn’t enter in the middle of the night and rob the place down to the ground. If I want to get into the strong rooms, I have to wait until a keeper of the other key is free. A nuisance, but it’s wise, I think.”

“Who is allowed the keys?” I itched to open my notebook and write, but I thought it better not to in front of Mr. Kearny. He might not be as forthcoming if he knew I’d scribble down all he said.

“Only those well trusted in the firm,” Mr. Kearny said, pride in his answer. “Mr. Zachary does not bestow them on just anyone. A man has to be in the firm for years before Mr. Zachary has a key made for him.”

“Mr. Zachary must have all the keys, then,” I said. “He’d need an original for it to be copied.”

“He does. Keeps them in a little box behind a wall panel in his office. I know this because I opened the door too soon once when he called me in to chat, and he was just locking up a cabinet and hiding it with the wall panel. He has a key to the keys.” Mr. Kearny chortled.

Interesting. So, Mr. Zachary was the only one in the bank who could have unlocked and locked the strong room door alone. I doubted he’d sacrifice any of his precious keys to slide them under Sam’s desk, but he could have had spares made at any time. So, for that matter, could anybody entrusted with one.

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