Shocking deceptions penr.., p.17
Shocking Deceptions (Penrose & Pyke Mysteries, #9), page 17
“Presumably they could have visited the locksmith too,” Wallace said, “since Tillman was also Vale’s tenant.”
“Correct. According to Matthew’s sister, the boys were fascinated by locks. She also said that Rosannah Vale, or Rosannah Crabtree as she was a decade ago, shared their interest. Rosannah was known as a clever and headstrong young lass who slipped out of the house to wander about town, visiting both the bakery and the locksmith.”
“I overheard Rosannah Vale and her brother Barnabas arguing about money,” Grace said. “Matthew Vale’s property business is in financial trouble, as it was in his father’s time. Barnabas refused to give his sister any financial assistance. As soon as his father dies, he plans to sell up and leave Dunedin, which might explain his lack of concern for his patients. Barnabas made it clear his father’s death couldn’t come soon enough.”
Wallace got up to pace the room, as he did when he was considering fresh evidence. When pacing proved impossible, the office being crammed with four people and a border collie, he sat again, taking his frustration out on an innocent pencil. “I don’t like the cut of Doctor Barnabas Crabtree’s jib. He sounds like the worst kind of charming swindler to me, with a taste for violence as well. Nasty business beating a boy like that. If he is behind these burglaries and Gus Fenton’s murder, I’m not surprised he is eager to move on. Is his father on his deathbed?”
“Franklin Crabtree suffered brain damage and partial paralysis from an apoplectic seizure several months ago,” Grace said, “but he is not at death’s door by any means. In fact, he does have lucid periods, so it might be worth talking to him. You’d have to take it gently. I can give you advice on how to gain the trust of a man in his condition.”
Wallace gave the pencil a final stab, breaking the tip through a pile of papers stamped “urgent”. “I fear for Franklin Crabtree’s safety if his son is hovering over him, waiting for him to die. If Barnabas Crabtree killed Gus Fenton, he has nothing to lose by hastening another man’s meeting with his maker.”
“If we are to talk to Franklin,” Declan said, “we’ll have to get him away from the house, in case his son overhears.”
Grace nodded her agreement. “Lancaster, the butler, who also acts as Franklin’s carer and valet, is taking his employer for a walk at two o’clock. Detective Inspector Wallace, I wonder if Franklin Crabtree might respond better to a woman, because he would feel completely safe in the hands of a sweet, harmless lass like me.”
The snort of laughter that burst from Charlie was echoed by the response of the two policemen.
Grace waited until they recovered. “If you gentlemen are quite finished maligning my sweet, innocent nature, I have another idea to throw in the cauldron.”
“Please proceed, dear lady,” Wallace said. “A gentleman must not ignore the entreaties of delicate, retiring wee lassies such as yourself, whom others are foolish enough to overlook.”
Grace ignored the jibe, but she looked pleased all the same. “When we went for Lily’s consultation with Doctor Crabtree, our valuables were left in a locked cabinet in the waiting room, in case metallic objects such as coins and keys interfered with the electrical treatment. All three of us were in the consulting room for an extended period, but both Doctor Crabtree and Rosannah Vale left for periods of time. It cannot be a coincidence that each of the burglary victims was also a patient and thus presumably did the same.”
Wallace caught on immediately. “One of them could have taken an impression of the patients’ house keys in wax to make duplicate keys for the burglaries. Who else had access to the locked cabinet?”
“Lancaster had a key. I don’t know about the housekeeper or the other servants. Presumably, Mr Crabtree Senior has access to all the keys to his own house, although I suppose it is possible his son installed the locked cabinet when he set up the consulting rooms.”
Wallace’s palms rasped together with glee. “Doctor Crabtree looks more suspicious by the minute.”
“Rosannah Vale also had access to the keys,” Declan said, “and she was one of the auction organisers. Matthew and Rosannah both knew Gus, and Matthew Vale’s business is failing, which means they are desperate for money. They would have to be working together, because Matthew had no access to the patients’ keys.”
“Actually, he might,” Charlie said. “Matthew Vale conducts his business meetings in a hire-by-the-hour office in the city, which means he might be at home during many of the patient consultations. It would be easy enough for him to unlock the cabinet while the patients were busy with Doctor Crabtree. Rosannah’s character is of interest too. Matthew’s sister implied Rosannah came by the money to buy cream buns using her ‘sticky fingers’, which I presume means she wasn’t above dipping into her parents’ purses as a child.”
Grace had her keys out of her bag, examining them. “No traces of wax. Not surprising perhaps, since the burglary mastermind would be lying low at present. However, the hair I placed across the clasp of my purse is gone. Someone has been prying through my possessions.”
Charlie reached out to stop her hand. “Don’t touch that calling card case.”
Grace held the edges with the tips of her fingers. “Well, what do you know? A nice clear fingerprint. A smaller hand than mine. Mrs Rosannah Vale has some explaining to do. A shame – she seemed such a nice lady. Fortunately, I made sure I only had an old card with me, in my maiden name, so as not to be associated with a well-known private detective.”
Charlie groaned. “I gave my name as Mr Penrose to Matthew Vale, but I had to give my full name when he became suspicious. They’ll make the connection soon enough, I expect, especially if Matthew and Rosannah Vale are working together. Grace and I should talk to Franklin Crabtree and the butler as soon as possible, before word spreads of our interest in the household.”
“Excellent,” Wallace said. “At this stage, I don’t want to give our game away by bringing any of them in for a formal interview at the police station until we have solid evidence. Kelly, you’ll still need to track down Jack Turner, because we cannot rule out anyone at this stage. Visit the Crabtrees’ house first to ask if any of them have seen the lad, being sure to emphasise that Turner is the prime suspect in a series of burglaries.”
Declan was already on his feet, raring to arrest the troublesome fugitive. “Clever move, sir. Crabtree won’t panic and run if he thinks we are focusing on somebody else.”
“Take Blaze,” Charlie said, making a fuss of his border collie so she knew she would be missed.
When Declan departed, Wallace turned back to Grace. “How is your investigation of Barnabas Crabtree’s medical practice going? It would make my day if you gave me sufficient grounds to question him about possible medical malpractice.”
“I need to consult Doctor Harvey and talk to Lily about her experience. Expect to hear from me later today. But now, we must hurry if we are to catch Franklin Crabtree on his walk.”
Charlie left the police station in a sombre mood. He didn’t want his wife to venture within a mile of any of the residents of York Place on her own, but an elderly invalid struggling to keep his grip on life ought to be safe enough if he stayed close.
They were each occupied with their own thoughts until they reached the Roslyn Cable Car, which would take them up the hill to the Imperial Ground. When they were seated, Charlie leaned close to his wife and said, “Grace, what did I miss in relation to Jack Turner? Declan seemed uncharacteristically out of sorts.”
“DS Kelly was given the run-around by Jack’s admirers, the maids at his various workplaces. That lad may be a quiet one, but he has his charms. Not like Doctor Barnabas Crabtree, whose charms are laid on with a trowel but stop at the outer layer of his epidermis.”
“Favouring the underdog, as always, Grace. I can’t complain about that.”
“It’s not that I favour the underdog, but rather that I prefer men whose charms come from an honest, caring place within. I don’t object to a handsome exterior, as my choice of husband shows, but I prefer a man who doesn’t realise he’s attractive, not a blood-brother to Narcissus.”
The sweetness of his wife’s words and the soft swirl of her fingertips on his palm almost caused Charlie to overlook the critical point, as she probably intended. “I heard enough of the discussion in Wallace’s office to know you talked to Jack Turner, even though he is the subject of a manhunt and a potential murderer. Please tell me my irreplaceable wife and baby were not alone with him.”
Grace wriggled against him beguilingly. “You agreed Jack Turner was innocent. And I didn’t seek him out. I followed Lancaster discreetly, because he was acting suspiciously by sneaking out of the house carrying a bulging sack. You would have done the same if you had been there.”
“That’s different.”
“Why is it different, Charlie? I’m part of the investigation team, am I not? Lancaster has about as much fight in him as a cream puff, and I was careful to keep my distance. How was I to know that he was taking food to Jack, who was living rough in the Town Belt?”
Charlie counted to ten and then added another twenty for good measure. “You followed a potential suspect to a clandestine meeting with a wanted fugitive in a secluded spot, then wandered over to pass the time of day with them both?”
“You make it sound far more reckless than it was.” Grace looked up at him with doe eyes. “I hope you don’t think I am going to turn into a subservient, housebound wife just because we might be having a baby in a few months’ time.”
Whichever way Charlie replied to that, he knew he was on quicksand. Of course he didn’t want his wife to change, but wasn’t a degree of change inevitable when she became a mother? Fortunately, Grace treated the question as rhetorical and carried on speaking.
“Anyway, I waited until Lancaster left, so I wouldn’t be seen. Unfortunately, Jack heard me before I could sneak away. He’s harmless, honestly, but he’s also terrified he’ll be suspected and put through the wringer by the police again.”
“How can you be absolutely certain Jack Turner is innocent?” Charlie asked. “Franklin Crabtree might be shielding Jack because he is complicit in the crimes too.”
Grace trailed a soft finger up his wrist. “It’s just as well we’re going to talk to Franklin then, isn’t it, my love?”
“For the sake of your poor, fearful husband,” Charlie said, capturing her wandering fingers in his fist before he could give in to her persuasive techniques, “perhaps you could refrain from meeting potential suspects alone in the future.”
“I’ll try, Charlie. Truly, I have no desire to take any unnecessary risks.”
Her other hand slid down to her belly, which told him she understood the risks and meant what she said. However, the precise definition of “unnecessary risks” might have to be the subject of further discussion. Meanwhile, they had interviews to conduct.
“While you talk to Crabtree Senior, I’ll have a word with his manservant. What’s Lancaster like, Grace?”
“Devoted to Franklin Crabtree. Lancaster does whatever his employer demands of him. If you treat him with sympathy and respect, you might get him to open up. He is a quiet fellow. Aloof, but caring. My bet is that Lancaster knows far more about what is going on in that house than anyone realises. Matthew and Barnabas seem like the sort of people who would talk openly in front of the servants over dinner without registering their presence. Rosannah isn’t so bad when not under her husband’s gaze or her brother’s thumb.”
“Thanks for the tip. You look tired, my love. Why don’t you go home after this? I can relay our findings to Wallace.”
“I wish I could, but I must get back to Doctor Harvey’s surgery. He asked me to investigate and allowed me time off to do so, but I don’t wish to try his patience too far.”
The cable car rattled up the steep slope through the Town Belt and shuddered to a halt at the Imperial Ground.
Charlie hadn’t met either Lancaster or Franklin Crabtree, but he didn’t need to be a detective to spot the lop-sided gait of an older man who was being gently guided around the ground at a snail’s pace by a younger man. They stood out like a pair of dark clouds on a sunny day amongst the young boys playing football and a scattering of ladies and nannies with young children. Once he saw Lancaster’s distinctive round figure, Charlie recalled him from the auction, taking coats from Mr and Mrs Vale in the foyer.
The pair approached a bench that had a view of both the cable car and the football. Lancaster wrapped his charge in the woollen blanket he was carrying, before helping Franklin Crabtree to sit. Before Lancaster could sit too, Charlie drew him aside, introduced himself as a private detective, and asked if he might have a quick word about a confidential matter.
“I have been asked to investigate a complaint by one of Doctor Crabtree’s patients,” Charlie said. “You can imagine my dilemma. I have no wish to confront Doctor Crabtree directly and cause embarrassment if there is no substance to the allegation. As a man of discretion with an oversight of the Crabtrees’ household, I thought it prudent to seek your advice, Mr Lancaster.”
Lancaster stared at him with the bland expression of a man who has perfected the art of seeing everything and saying nothing. However, he couldn’t stop the tiny twitch that pulled at his left eye when the doctor was mentioned. “I have no knowledge of the doctor’s practice, sir. My only role is to greet patients at the front door and see them to the waiting room.” Lancaster saw Charlie glance at the invalid. “This gentleman is not a patient. He is my employer, Doctor Crabtree’s father.”
“I’ll be frank with you, Mr Lancaster. I’ve made preliminary inquiries, which indicate that you are an exemplary employee of long standing, whose loyalties lie with Mr Crabtree Senior. I understand your reluctance to speak to me, but your employer’s fine reputation is at risk too, if his son is found to be at fault.”
Charlie held his breath, but it seemed he hadn’t misread Lancaster’s allegiance to his employer and dislike of his employer’s son. “I’ll only take a few minutes of your time. My wife will sit with Mr Crabtree.”
Lancaster noticed Grace for the first time. “Ah, I see. The young lady who visited the surgery this morning. You’re that private detective fellow who has been in the newspapers, aren’t you? It must be a serious complaint for your services to be engaged. One moment please, Mr Penrose Pyke.”
After returning to ensure his employer’s hat, scarf and blanket were snug, Lancaster walked far enough away that they would not be overheard. He kept his eyes on his employer, who seemed not to have noticed his absence. Lancaster sighed. “Mr Crabtree enjoys watching the cable car come and go. Alas, it is one of his few remaining pleasures, aside from a glass or two of port in the evening and having the newspaper read to him.”
Charlie smoothed his face into a bland imitation of the man before him. “Mr Crabtree has his adult children for company as well.”
Lancaster’s expression didn’t change. “Of course. Mrs Vale has been a devoted daughter through good times and bad.”
Lancaster left a pause, which Charlie didn’t fill with an unnecessary query about the manservant’s failure to mention the son. He had never quite understood how a person could remain expressionless and yet express disdain at the same time. Lancaster was a master of the art.
“You mentioned a patient with a complaint, Mr Penrose Pyke?” Lancaster prompted.
“The patient was concerned that her possessions had been tampered with during her consultation with Doctor Crabtree, despite her valuables being locked in a cabinet. She did not wish to make a fuss, but nor did she wish to ignore it.”
Lancaster held Charlie’s gaze. The allegation had not caught him by surprise. Finally, he blinked. “Just between ourselves, Doctor Crabtree insists on verifying the identity of patients. I believe there were instances in his London practice of patients giving a false name and not paying the consultation fee. Mrs Vale is obliged to follow his orders, but she is no thief, if that is what your client is insinuating.”
“Ah, that explains it. My client will be relieved, I’m sure. Doctor Crabtree has a fine reputation, which might make him a target for cheats.” Again, Lancaster twitched. Charlie continued as if he hadn’t noticed. “I expect it cost Mr Franklin Crabtree a great deal to put his son through medical school in London.” He waited for Lancaster to nod. “Doctor Crabtree’s current occupation is perhaps not ...”
Lancaster filled the pause with the slightest of smiles and a deviation from protocol. “... not a line of work of which his father would approve? Quite so. I hate to see my employer brought so low by his illness, but at least he has been spared a full understanding of his son’s descent to the ungodly fringes of medical practice.”
“Has Mr Crabtree’s brain been so badly affected by his condition that he is unaware of what is happening around him?”
“He has good days and bad days. I confess I consider it a kindness to pretend that Doctor Crabtree is an esteemed medical specialist. His son was a great disappointment to Mr Crabtree in his youth, and thus it gives him pleasure to believe his son has redeemed himself. In fairness to the doctor, I have heard that his patients are generous with their praise for his cures. None of them have complained about his services, as far as I know, so perhaps it was wrong of me to imply that his methods are no more than outright quackery.”
Charlie wanted to ask Lancaster’s views on the other household members, but he doubted a direct question would be answered. Instead, he went for sympathy and a soft approach, as per Grace’s tip. “It must be hard to see your employer so unwell. I do hope you will have the opportunity to stay on to work for the next generation, when the time comes.”
Lancaster took several seconds to frame his response. “Mr Crabtree has been uncommonly good to me. However, when he passes on to heaven, as he could at any time, I feel it is safe to say I shall not remain in my current post once I have paid my final respects at his graveside.”
