your office a second time,' said Blakemore, turning another page of his notes, 'when he claims you offered him sixty-eight pounds and ten shillings if he would keep his mouth shut about Clifton.'
'I've never heard such an outrageous suggestion.'
'Then let us consider the alternative for a moment, sir. Let us suppose that Tancock did come back to your office with the intention of robbing you some time between seven o'clock and seven thirty yesterday evening. Having somehow managed to get into the building unobserved he reaches the fifth floor, makes his way to your office, and with either your key or Miss Potts's unlocks the safe, enters the code, removes the envelope, slits it neatly open and takes out the money, but doesn't bother with a box of gold coins. He leaves the safe door open, spreads some of its contents on the floor and places the neatly opened envelope on your desk, and then, like the Scarlet Pimpernel, disappears into thin air.'
'It needn't have been between seven and seven thirty in the evening,' said Hugo defiantly. 'It could have been any time before eight this morning.'
'I think not, sir,' said Blakemore. 'You see, Tancock has an alibi between eight and eleven o'clock last night.'
'No doubt this so-called "alibi" is some mate of his,' said Barrington.
'Thirty-one of them, at the last count,' said the detective inspector. 'It seems that having stolen your money, he turned up at the Pig and Whistle public house at around eight o'clock, and not only were the drinks on him, but he also cleared his slate. He paid the landlord with a new five-pound note, which I have in my possession.'
The detective removed his wallet, took out the note and placed it on Barrington's desk.
'The landlord also added that Tancock left the pub at around eleven, and was so drunk that two of his friends had to accompany him to his home in Still House Lane, where we found him this morning. I am bound to say, sir, that if it was Tancock who robbed you, we have a master criminal on our hands and I'd be proud to be the man who puts him behind bars. Which I suspect is exactly what you had in mind, sir,' he added, looking directly at Barrington, 'when you gave him the money.'
'And why on earth would I do that?' said Hugo, trying to keep his voice even.
'Because if Stanley Tancock was arrested and sent to jail, no one would take his story about Arthur Clifton seriously. Incidentally, Clifton hasn't been seen since yesterday afternoon. So I shall be recommending to my superiors that the hull be opened up without further delay so that we can discover if it was a false alarm and Tancock was wasting everyone's time.'
Hugo Barrington checked in the mirror and straightened his bow tie. He hadn't told his father about the Arthur Clifton incident or the visit from Detective Inspector Blakemore. The less the old man knew the better. All he'd said was that some money had been stolen from his office and one of the stevedores had been arrested.
Once he'd put on his dinner jacket, Hugo sat on the end of the bed and waited for his wife to finish dressing. He hated being late, but he knew that no amount of badgering would make Elizabeth move any faster. He'd checked on Giles and his baby sister Emma, who were both fast asleep.
Hugo had wanted two sons, an heir and a spare. Emma was an inconvenience, which meant he'd have to try again. His father had been a second child and lost his older brother fighting the Boers in South Africa. Hugo's older brother had been killed at Ypres, along with half his regiment. So, in time, Hugo could expect to succeed his father as chairman of the company and, when his father died, to inherit the title and the family fortune.
So he and Elizabeth would have to try again. Not that making love to his wife was a pleasure any more. In fact, he couldn't remember if it ever had been. Recently he'd been looking for distractions elsewhere.
'Yours is a marriage made in heaven,' his mother used to say. His father was more practical. He had felt that bringing together his elder son and the only daughter of Lord Harvey was more of a merger than a marriage. When Hugo's brother was killed on the Western Front, his fiancee was passed on to Hugo. No longer a merger, more of a