Page 76 of The Impossible Fortune
Joanna lowers her voice. ‘Are you listening to this guy on the next table by the way?’
‘Oh, God, yes,’ says Paul. ‘Your mum is going to love it.’
Joanna will ring Joyce tomorrow and tell her all about it. Catch up about Holly Lewis too. Funny that murder is one of the few things they find it easy to talk about. Perhaps because it’s something they didn’t speak about growing up? There’s no shared language to fracture them.
41
Jeremy Jenkins never takes his work home with him.
He knows some solicitors who drive home, passenger seat groaning with files, and work till all hours.
But if Jeremy Jenkins is to answer your correspondence, it will be between the hours of nine a.m. and five p.m. Four p.m., if he’s honest – you don’t want to start anything new too near to home time, do you? In case it spills over past five. The worst is house sales. You get an email at one minute past four from a buyer who needs to exchange before the end of play that day and you could be there till six. No, thank you: the office hours of Rochester, Clark, Hughes are on the website for everyone to see, and it takes just a modicum of common sense to understand one mustn’t get in touch within an hour or so of home time.
If he’s being entirely honest, he doesn’t get an awful lot done between nine a.m. and ten a.m. either, because it’s important to have a coffee and really think about the day ahead before you get stuck in.
But between ten and four, Jeremy likes to think he does a pretty good job. Are there better solicitors in Kettering? Possibly. Are there better solicitors in Kettering who still retain a healthy work-life balance? Jeremy doubts that very much.
There was a time when it was floated that Rochester, Clark, Hughes might become Rochester, Clark, Hughes, Jenkins, but in the end that was put on the back burner. And that was fair enough if you really took the time to think about it.
Today, however, he has a file with him. Belonging to a Ms Holly Lewis. She deposited some documents with the company some years ago. Jeremy didn’t deal with her personally, he’s sure of that, but whoever did deal with her has obviously either left or died since then (in the past ten years, four solicitors have left the firm and two have died, including the original Rochester, who fell off a ladder in Mykonos), and Jeremy’s name has found itself attached to the file.
It was placed on his desk at three p.m., well within the statute of limitations, so he took a look. The file contained two envelopes. One was markedIN THE EVENT OF THE DEATH OF HOLLY LEWISand the otherIN THE EVENT OF THE DEATH OF NICK SILVER.
His secretary, a man but actually not at all bad when you got used to it, had forwarded an email from Kent Hospital – this Holly Lewis had named the firm as her next of kin in an emergency – saying she had died. Which happens in the solicitor business. Would that it didn’t.
Jeremy Jenkins’s job, then, was to track down Mr Nick Silver. To let him know that he, Jeremy Jenkins, had a package in his care with his, Nick Silver’s, name on it.
They had a number for Nick Silver. His secretary had tried but received no answer. Jeremy then watched as his secretary tried the number again, because secretaries oftendial numbers incorrectly if you don’t watch them like a hawk. Nothing doing.
You often found these ‘Open in the event of the death’ letters attached to people’s estates, but this was a single file, containing only the two envelopes and three phone numbers. And that is unusual. No record of any correspondence other than the initial request to have the file stored.
It piqued Jeremy Jenkins’s interest. He wasn’t allowed to open the envelopes, naturally, but he would be interested to know what was in them. Engage this Nick Silver in a conversation, see what was what.
If Nick Silver is a working man, such as Jeremy himself, perhaps it is difficult for him to answer the phone during the day? Social calls are frowned upon at Rochester, Clark, Hughes too.
He has already rung the number twice, with no joy. He will try a final time just before nine, and then call it a night.
And, if all else fails, there is the third number in the file. He could ring that tomorrow.
TUESDAY
42
What a day to be alive. Sure, she has to do the night shift this evening because Prince Edward has decided he wants to go to a Nando’s, and she has to stand outside until he’s finished his Lemon & Herb Chicken Pitta, but at least she is going to have some fun before that.
Jill Usher. The name Elizabeth gave her. Donna has done some digging and struck gold.
Donna isn’t often in this position. Knowing that Elizabeth has made a mistake. It’s intoxicating.
She is on her way to London to talk to Paul Brett, on Elizabeth’s instructions. Donna doesn’t have any qualms about that. If you’ve been invited to someone’s wedding – the evening reception anyway – surely you’re allowed to visit them and talk about a murder? That’s not a police thing, that’s a friendship thing.
Just don’t tell Joyce. Elizabeth had been very clear about that.
Joyce’s flat is a detour well worth taking, however. She really intends to make the most of it.
‘You didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary?’ she asks Elizabeth and Joyce. ‘When you visited Jill Usher in Manchester?’
‘If you have information,’ says Elizabeth, ‘kindly just tellus. I don’t need you smirking, Donna. It’s very unprofessional. Tell her, Bogdan.’
