Page 27 of The Murder of Thomas Cardwell
“Aha!” Penelope nodded. “Very true.”
Stokes had been flicking through his notebook. “For my money, Bobby Cardwell is definitely not our murderer. He might be twenty-something, but he’s younger in some ways, and hischaracter is not yet fixed, and it seems he looked up to Thomas and valued what Thomas was doing for the family.”
“And,” Penelope said, “that’s another reason Gibson wouldn’t have killed Thomas, either.” She looked at the others. “No matter any arguments, from all he let fall, Gibson, too, valued what Thomas was doing to keep the family afloat.”
“Indeed.” Barnaby, too, looked around at the others. “So where does that leave us now?”
Stokes blew out a breath. “Well, if it wasn’t one of the family, and we seem to have accepted that it wasn’t, and it also wasn’t the Hemingways, then we have to assume that the nefarious activities that moved Thomas to write to Roscoe, which are presumably the reason Thomas was killed, stem from some other client of Thomas’s.”
“We’ve heard nothing to suggest that Thomas had recently ventured into some unexpected circle that might have led to such a discovery,” Penelope pointed out.
“That suggestion of Gibson’s,” Jordan said, “that Thomas might have notified the client involved that he was preparing to go to the authorities in the hope said client would do the right thing and rectify the matter themselves, might well have been what happened.” He glanced at the others. “Such behavior on Thomas’s part fits with the rest of the family’s views of his character.”
Barnaby stated, “The most likely avenue through which Thomas learned of nefarious activities being afoot is through his work for his clients. That’s indisputable. And Gibson’s suggestion of Thomas contacting the about-to-be-exposed client also fits the timing of the letter to Roscoe and Thomas’s murder.”
Stokes was nodding. “Our unknown man presumed to be the murderer is the about-to-be-exposed client.”
Penelope straightened on her chair. “We need to check Thomas’s ledgers and search for any correspondence—copies of recent letters and so on. There might well be a major clue hidden in his account books.”
“I agree,” Jordan said.
Stokes frowned. “Wouldn’t the murderer—presuming he was this client—have removed any telltale ledger? Surely that will be long gone.”
Jordan’s brows rose. “Perhaps, but that might be a clue in and of itself.” He glanced at Penelope. “There should be a master list somewhere in Thomas’s office. And Ruth could well have one, too, given she did all the accounts.”
Penelope smiled. “So if we check all the remaining ledgers against the master list and discover some are inexplicably missing…”
Jordan grinned. “That will point to the murderer.”
Barnaby, Penelope, and Jordan all looked at Stokes.
He regarded them impassively, then pushed back from his desk. “Right, then. It’s back to Cardwell’s office to trawl through his files.”
Along with his three coinvestigators, Barnaby returned to Broad Street.
On descending from their carriage, they found Gelman chatting to Walsh, who was presently on guard outside Cardwell’s office door.
Walsh came to attention and reported to Stokes, “No one’s approached, sir. And Morgan said all was quiet overnight.”
With a general nod to all, Gelman added, “There hasn’t been anyone eyeing the place, either. No attention at all.”
“Good,” Stokes said, then he grimaced and glanced at Barnaby, Penelope, and Jordan. “I’m not sure if that means the telltale ledger is already gone, but”—Stokes waved them to the door—“let’s see if we can locate this master list and work out what’s what.”
Penelope led the way inside, and the three men followed.
“The master list.” Penelope went straight to the desk. “The desk drawers are the most likely place for it.”
She started pulling out the drawers on one side of the desk, while Jordan claimed the drawers on the other side.
With Stokes, Barnaby halted facing the desk and waited.
Penelope straightened and held up several sheets pinned together. “Is this it?”
Jordan joined her in scanning the first sheet, then took the collection and flipped through the other pages. His face lit, and he smiled at Penelope. “It is. Good find.”
“So now…” She glanced at the shelves and the many ledgers they held.
“Now,” Jordan said, separating the pages and laying them across the blotter, “we start at one end of the office and work our way around, checking each set of ledgers against this list until we confirm that they’re all here or that one is missing.”
