Page 40 of Copper Script
“You got your man?Already?”
“It went very nicely.Found the money, got a full confession.”
“Congratulations,” Aaron said, tipping his glass in a casual manner that he hoped would conceal his tension.“So what was the case?”
“An embezzlement job, in a stockbroker’s office.”
“Embezzlement.Nothing violent?”
“Not at all.It was very niftily done, in fact.The missing money wasn’t noticed for a while, and there were five clerks who would have been in a position to steal the funds.Tracks well covered.So, how shall we do this?”
“I have Wildsmith’s impressions here,” Aaron said, passing him the envelope.“I’ve kept it safe since our meeting.Do you want to check it’s untouched?”
Hollis had a good look.“Not tampered with at either end.May I?”He opened the envelope, ripping across Aaron and Wildsmith’s names.“Shall I read them all, or did he give a suspect?”
“He had several people who he thought were plausible candidates—”
“Ha.That’s how these people work.Any number of guesses and you just hear the one you want to.”
“True,” Aaron said.“But he did specifically say, for a crime on paper, he’d point the finger at number three.”
Hollis’s mouth dropped open.He fished out a paper from his pocket and checked it.“Damnation.Damn.”
“He was right?”
“Spot on.Number three is an older man who’d been passed over for promotion for the third time, and decided the business owed him something for his years of service.Sour piece of work with a face like a wet weekend.”
Aaron pointed wordlessly at the envelope.Hollis extracted the notes, found number three, read the paper with his brows rising steeply, and said, “What the devil.”
“Yes.”
“What thedevil.No, wait.These people are jolly good at meaningful-sounding statements that could apply to anyone.Let me see the rest.”He squinted at Aaron’s notes.“One...yes, that’s about right, very drab woman.Two is one of your ringers.I can’t argue with three.Well.”
“What about the rest?”Aaron made himself say.
Hollis went on through the notes.“Four—not much there, is there?Five.Oh, you’re bloody joking.”
“He was wrong?”
Hollis shook his head, in disbelief rather than disagreement.“He was absolutely right.Number five is up to his neck in debt on the horses.We wasted quite a lot of time assuming he was the guilty party because of it.How theblazes?”
They stared at each other for a moment, then Hollis shook his head and looked back at the notes.“Number six is another ringer.Seven— God almighty!”
“One of yours?”Aaron said hopefully.
“One of yours.”Hollis’s brows went up again as he read.“This is ripe stuff.He’s calling number seven a murderer?Who is it?”
“I picked one sample out of a case file,” Aaron said, his voice horribly wooden in his own ears.“I expect that’s the one.”
“Ha!And is his read accurate?”
“It would be, yes.”
“My God.And then number eight—oh for pity’s sake.It says here he might do charitable work in his spare time.The fellow volunteers at an East End boys’ club.For God’s sake, Fowler, this is absurd.It’s too much.Did we miss something?Could he have found out what case it was?”
“Not through me, since I didn’t know.And I haven’t mentioned this scheme of ours to anyone.Have you?”
“Not a living soul.”
