Page 52 of The Murder of Thomas Cardwell
Jordan beamed. “Thank you.”
Confused, Chesterton blinked at him. “What for?”
“For telling us that somewhere, there’s a bank account in your name,” Jordan said, “and that we’ll find the account details hidden somewhere in your rooms. Once we find those details—and trust me, we’ll find them—we’ll be able to do as I said and follow the trail to your masters.”
Still smiling, Stokes pushed back his chair and rose. “On that note, Chesterton, allow us to bid you a good day.”
Caught between disbelief and fear, Chesterton watched them file out of the room.
Stokes paused in the doorway and looked at O’Donnell. “Take him back to the cells.” Stokes transferred his gaze to Morgan. “Meanwhile, you can fetch Walsh and join us in the foyer.”
Both sergeant and constable snapped off salutes, and Stokes followed the others into the corridor and on toward the stairs.
Once in the foyer, Stokes went to the front desk and returned with a large, old-fashioned key.
Barnaby eyed the key. “I think Lambert Street runs south from Whitechapel.”
“That’s what Morgan said.” Stokes turned as Morgan and Walsh came striding up.
Both saluted, and Morgan hopefully inquired, “You wanted us, guv?”
Constable Morgan was one who liked to be doing.
“Indeed,” Stokes said. “I want the pair of you to go down to the Fox—that pub on the Tilbury Road where Chesterton and the three gentlemen used to meet. We need to find evidence that Thomas Cardwell was there last Sunday night. He might have been in disguise, but I can’t imagine it was all that good. See what the staff can tell you—if any of them remember a bloke who could have been Cardwell and, most especially, if anyone happened to notice Cardwell following Chesterton when Chesterton left.”
“The staff must know Chesterton,” Barnaby pointed out. “By all accounts, he’s been a regular there for at least the past few months.”
“The three gentlemen are also regulars, even more so than Chesterton,” Penelope said, “so the staff will definitelyremember them. As for Chesterton, all you need to mention is that shock of carroty-red hair. The staff are sure to remember that.”
Morgan grinned and saluted again, this time to the entire group. “Right you are, sirs, ma’am. We’ll head down there immediately. They should be just opening up when we arrive, and that’s a good time to chat, before they get too busy.”
Stokes grinned. “You’re the expert.” He tipped his head toward the street. “Off you go.”
With jaunty nods, the pair strode for the doors.
Stokes turned to the others. He weighed the heavy old key in his palm, then slid it into his pocket. “Right, then. Let’s head to Lambert Street and see what we can find.”
Half an hour later, Stokes used the old key to open the door of Chesterton’s flat above a bakery on Lambert Street.
The scent of freshly baked bread permeated the space as the four investigators walked into the small parlor and looked around.
“There.” Jordan tipped his head at a simple desk set between two windows. He walked across and drew out the wooden chair set before it. “I’ll search here, but he might have had the sense to hide his account book in some unlikely place.”
“I’ll help with the desk.” Penelope dragged a second chair over to the side of the desk before one window. “The light’s better here.”
Stokes humphed. “I suppose that leaves Barnaby and me to search all the unlikely places.”
When the two already pulling out the drawers of the desk made no comment, Stokes exchanged a wry look with Barnaby,and together, they moved to examine the few other pieces of furniture in the room.
Penelope helped Jordan gather all the notebooks and loose sheets stuffed into the desk drawers and poked into the double row of pigeonholes above it. They piled their finds on the blotter, amassing a considerable stack.
Once they’d gathered every last shred of paper, Jordan studied the pile. “Right. Let’s have at it.”
“You take half”—Penelope suited the action to the words and divided the pile roughly in two—“and I’ll take the rest.”
They started by examining the notebooks.
“Household accounts,” Penelope declared in a somewhat intrigued tone. “I’m surprised a single gentleman keeps track.”
