Calling Mr. Callaghan E-Book

Peter Cheyney

• Herausgeber: Librorium Editions
• Kategorie: Krimi
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Beschreibung

WHEN Callaghan came into the office, Effie Thompson stopped typing. She said: "Good morning, Mr. Callaghan. There have been a few telephone calls, and your letters are on your desk."
Callaghan said: "Right, Effie. Has Fallon or Craske been through?"
She shook her head. Callaghan went into his office. She followed him with her notebook.
She said: "You're expecting a call from Fallon or Craske? If either of them come through while you're out what shall I do about it?"
Callaghan said: "There's nothing you can do, Effie. Both those birds ought to be pretty scared by this time—both of them or one of them."
She said: "You don't know which one was really responsible for that fraudulent claim?"

Leseprobe

Calling Mr. Callaghan

Peter Cheyney

© 2023 Librorium Editions

ISBN : 9782385743390

1. — A SPOT OF MURDER

2. — DOUBLE ALIBI

3. — THEY KIDNAPPED CECILIA

4. — THE DISAPPEARING DIAMONDS

5. — THE TELEPHONE TALKS

6. — IN THE HALL

7. — THE BIG BLUFF

8. — THE MISSING BULLET

9. — THE MAN WITH TWO WIVES

10. — THE LADY IN TEARS

11. — THE DENCOURT STILETTO

12. — VENGEANCE WITH A TWIST

1. — A SPOT OF MURDER

WHEN Callaghan came into the office, Effie Thompson stopped typing. She said: "Good morning, Mr. Callaghan. There have been a few telephone calls, and your letters are on your desk."

Callaghan said: "Right, Effie. Has Fallon or Craske been through?"

She shook her head. Callaghan went into his office. She followed him with her notebook.

She said: "You're expecting a call from Fallon or Craske? If either of them come through while you're out what shall I do about it?"

Callaghan said: "There's nothing you can do, Effie. Both those birds ought to be pretty scared by this time—both of them or one of them."

She said: "You don't know which one was really responsible for that fraudulent claim?"

Callaghan said: "No! But with the situation like it is, I bet the guilty one's feeling scared and the innocent one is beginning to get ideas." He lit a cigarette. "Of course," he went on, "there's a chance they were both concerned in it."

He began to dictate his letters.

The telephone jangled. Effie Thompson took off the receiver. She put her hand over the transmitter. She said: "Talk of the devil! Mr. Fallon wants to speak to you, Mr. Callaghan."

Callaghan reached out for the instrument. He said: "Hello, Fallon. What is it?"

Fallon said: "Look, Mr. Callaghan, I've been thinking things over and I think I've got them straightened out. I think I'm in a position to prove that Craske—my partner—has been the person who double-crossed the Insurance Company. I can prove I had nothing to do with it."

Callaghan said: "I'm glad of that, Fallon. You know we never accused you of anything."

Fallon said: "I know. At the same time I realized you probably suspected the pair of us. After all, no Insurance Company likes to pay twenty thousand on a fake claim, and I'm afraid that's what it was."

Callaghan said: "That's what I thought." There was a pause. Then: "What do you want me to do?" he asked.

Fallon said: "Look here, circumstances have broken pretty well for me. Craske went off this morning and took the train for Newcastle. So he'll be out of the way. All the books and everything are in the safe down here on the houseboat. I went through them directly he left a couple of hours ago, and with the information that I've got I can show you just how he did it."

Callaghan said: "You want me to come down?"

Fallon said: "Yes. I'd like to do a few more hours' work on the books, but if you could get down this evening about nine o'clock, I think I'd have the whole thing straightened out."

Callaghan said: "All right. I'll be there. I'm glad you've got yourself in the clear, Fallon. I knew it had to be one of you, but, of course, there was always the chance that it was both of you. I'll be with you at nine o'clock."

"Right ho!" said Fallon. "The houseboat is moored by the landing stage oil the road about a hundred and fifty yards from the Star & Crown. Anybody'll tell you where it is. I'll be there."

Callaghan asked: "Where are you speaking from?"

"From the Star & Crown," Fallon answered.

Callaghan said: "All right." He hung up. He stubbed out his cigarette, lit a fresh one. He said to Effie Thompson: "Fallon says he's got the goods on his partner Craske. He says he can prove it was Craske who pulled that fake claim. Fallon wants to see me. I'm going down to the houseboat to see him at nine o'clock to-night."

Effie Thompson said: "Are you going on your own? It might be a plant, mightn't it? You've only got Fallon's word that it was Craske who was responsible for the fraud."

Callaghan said: "That's true enough. At the same time you've got to take a chance sometime. But thanks for being concerned, Effie." He blew ruminative smoke rings. Then he went on: "I suppose there might be something in this thing called woman's intuition."

She smiled. She said: "Every woman thinks so, Mr. Callaghan."

"All right," said Callaghan. "Take this note down. I'm going out in a few minutes, so I shan't be here when Nikolls arrives. When he comes in give him the note."

She said: "Very well, Mr. Callaghan."

Callaghan dictated the note.

A SHARP wind was blowing and a few big rain spots fell as Callaghan, leaving the road by the Inn, turned off on to the footpath that ran down to the river's edge. After a few minutes' walking he could see in the dusk the outline of the houseboat moored to the bank in the little backwater.

He paused a moment to light a cigarette, then continued on his way. He reached the houseboat, stepped aboard. There was no sign of life. Callaghan called out: "Fallon!" There was no reply.

He walked along the side of the boat until he came to the main door. It was unlocked. Callaghan pushed it open. It was quite dark inside, the windows being screened by black-out curtains. Callaghan put his hand on to the wall by the door, felt for an electric light switch. He found it, snapped it on. At the other end of the cabin, behind a desk, sat Craske. The automatic in his right hand was pointed at Callaghan's stomach.

He said: "Come in, Callaghan. Close the door behind you. I want to have a little talk with you."

Callaghan grinned. He said: "So it seems. This is a surprise, Craske."

Craske said: "I bet it is. Sit down, Callaghan, in that chair and keep your hands on the arms. Don't take any chances."

Callaghan said sarcastically: "I don't intend to take any chances."

Craske said: "You thought you were going to see Fallon, didn't you?"

Callaghan nodded. He said: "Do you mind if I give myself another cigarette?"

Craske said: "No, I don't mind anything so long as you don't try anything funny."

Callaghan stubbed out his cigarette end. He produced his cigarette case, lit a fresh cigarette. He inhaled from the cigarette, then he said: "Yes, I thought I was going to see Fallon, and I thought you were in Newcastle. It seems I was wrong."

Craske said: "Yes. But Fallon wasn't kidding you."

Callaghan raised one eyebrow. "No?" he queried. There was a pause. Then: "What's the idea in the gun, Craske?" he asked. "That sort of stuff isn't going to get you anywhere."

"Oh yes, it is," said Craske. "I'm sorry, Callaghan, but I'm going to kill you. You see, I've got to."

Callaghan said: "You don't say! Why?"

Craske said: "I'll tell you. I got the idea some time ago that Fallon was wise to what I'd been doing. I got the idea that he'd been checking up on what had been going on." He grinned. "I knew he'd been going through the firm's books which I had down here over the weekend," he went 'on. "He thought I didn't know. Fallon's a bit of a mug, you know."

Callaghan said: "You're telling me. But any man would have to be pretty clever to be your partner, Craske."

"Maybe," said Craske. "Anyhow, I came to the conclusion he was going to do something about it. So I thought I'd give him the opportunity. I told him this morning I was going up to Newcastle. Then I packed my bag and cleared off. I went along to the Star & Crown. I went upstairs to the first floor landing and watched to see if Fallon would come along and telephone after he'd had a chance of going through those books."

"He did. He telephoned from the box downstairs." He grinned. "There's never anybody in the office on the first floor in the morning. I knew that that manageress is always downstairs in the kitchen at that time. I went into the office. I listened on the extension line. I heard him fixing up for you to come down to-night. I heard what he said."

Callaghan nodded. "Nice work," he said.

"Not too bad," said Craske. "When he'd gone I went downstairs, rang for a car, drove to the station, picked up the Newcastle train. I was careful to let the porter see that I actually caught it. You see I happened to know the train stops for water on this side of the Blackwood Tunnel—twelve miles away."

Callaghan nodded. "And when the train stopped you just got out?"

"That's right," said Craske. "I waited till seven o'clock this evening, then I telephoned Fallon at the Star & Crown—-I knew he'd be there for dinner—and told him his mother was dying. I made out I was a friend of his mother's. I knew that would move him, and I knew he wouldn't telephone your office because he'd know it'd be closed. Half an hour ago I slipped back here and waited for you. No one saw me."

Callaghan drew easily on his cigarette. He said: "All very interesting. And what's the big idea?"

"The big idea is this," said Craske. "You'll be dead. I was seen on the train going to Newcastle to-day, so I'm all right. Your office know that you had an appointment here with Fallon at nine o'clock. Fallon will say that he wasn't here——he went to see his mother who was dying. Who's going to believe him. His mother's not dying, and she's not even at the address I gave him." He smiled. "I gave him the address of an empty house. You get the idea?"

Callaghan said: "I get it. The idea is that the Insurance Company I'm working for know that I suspected both of you as being in this job. They'll believe Fallon killed me. You'll have an alibi and Fallon's alibi won't stand up—it's obviously a fake."

Craske nodded. He said: "That's right."

Callaghan said: "Nice work! I congratulate you, Craske. Just because Fallon's alibi is so obviously a fake—-although it was the truth——the police won't check too carefully on your alibi which looks good although it's a fake. All they'll do is to check you got on that Newcastle train." He nodded appreciatively. "You know, Craske," he went on, "it's not at all a bad idea. In point of fact it's almost watertight. It's really very hard luck on you that you won't get away with it."

Craske said almost casually: "What's the good of bluffing, Callaghan? You'd better make up your mind to take what's coming to you." He leveled the gun. "I'm going to give it to you in a minute," he said. "Perhaps you'd like to turn round?"

Callaghan said: "I wouldn't even bother. But you'd be awfully silly if you squeezed that trigger before I told you what I'm going to tell you. After all, it's not so bad doing five or six years imprisonment for making a fraudulent insurance claim, but it would be just too bad to be hanged for an unnecessary murder."

Craske said: "What do you mean—an unnecessary murder?" He looked surprised.

Callaghan said: "I'll tell you. I said your idea was very nearly watertight. But you see the unfortunate thing was that Fallon never got anywhere near that empty house where you told him his dying mother was. He was knocked over by a car. The hospital phoned through to my office—my secretary happened to be working late. It's too bad," said Callaghan, "because you realize that it will be quite obvious that Fallon didn't kill me the only other person who would have a motive for being on this houseboat and finishing me off would be you. That being so, that Newcastle alibi of yours will be closely checked, which it would not be in the ordinary course of events. They'll discover that you never arrived at Newcastle. You won't be able to tell them who you saw there—-what you did there.

"I'm sorry about Fallon," Callaghan went on. "The reason I was a bit late getting here was because I went to the hospital. He died at eight o'clock to-night."

Craske sighed heavily. He put the automatic pistol on the desk. He said: "Well, that lets you out."

Callaghan said: "So you've changed your mind, Craske?"

Craske nodded. He grinned. "Why not?" he said. "Now that Fallon's dead, the situation becomes a little easier. Before he had that telephone conversation with you this morning you've admitted that you suspected both or either of us. Now my story's going to be that it was Fallon who pulled that claim on the Insurance Company. You can say what you like about this interview. Who's going to believe you? My story's as good as yours. They'll never be able to convict me of that fraud in a thousand years, and you know it."

He pulled the ammunition clip out of the butt of the gun, threw the clip and the pistol into the desk drawer. He said: "There's another idea, too." He grinned at Callaghan cynically. "Look," he went on, "my story is going to be that Fallon committed suicide. Here he was this evening in a district that he had no reason to be in, getting knocked down by a motor-car. Maybe he threw himself under that car because he knew he was going to be found out. That's a good story too," Craske concluded.

Callaghan nodded. He said: "It's not bad. You're a clever fellow, Craske."

Craske said: "I think so, too!"

"Well," said Callaghan, "it looks as if I can't do any good staying here. I'll be on my way."

Craske said: "Good-night, Callaghan. I'm not going to do a thing. If the Insurance Company put the police on to me, I've got my story all ready for them, and nobody can prove anything different."

Callaghan got up. He stubbed out his cigarette end in the ashtray on the desk. He walked slowly to the door of the cabin. He opened the door, turned. He stood looking at Craske.

He said: "You know, Craske, life is damn funny. When Fallon rang through to my office this morning I didn't actually believe him. I thought it was a plant. I thought he wanted to get me down here to-night to try something on. So I tried a little idea of my own. Would you Like to hear what it was?"

Craske said nothing. He looked at Callaghan.

Callaghan went on: "I left a note for Windemere Nikolls, my assistant, to get down here this afternoon, and if the coast was clear to get a Dictaphone fixed in the wall of this cabin. You might like to know that every word that's been said in here will be produced as evidence. Nikolls got a line running up the bank. He's been sitting there behind a tree with the earphones on ever since I came here."

Craske gasped. He looked at Callaghan as if he had been pole-axed.

"So much for that," said Callaghan. "The other thing is we've got all the evidence we want against you—including Fallon. I shall put Fallon in the witness box against Craske."

Craske said: "What the devil do you mean? Fallon's dead."

Callaghan grinned. He said: "Nuts, Craske! That little story I told you about Fallon being knocked over and killed was phoney. I made that up. Good-night, Craske."

2. — DOUBLE ALIBI

NIKOLLS, Callaghan's Canadian assistant, was sitting in the corner of the deserted saloon bar when Callaghan came in. Callaghan went to the bar, ordered a large whisky and soda, carried it over to where Nikolls was sitting. He said: "Well, what was it Vinter wanted? I suppose he thinks he's in a jam?"

Nikolls said: "He's in a jam all right. I told him so. I asked him how the hell he thought a firm of private detectives was goin' to get him out of this one."

Callaghan asked: "What's the story?"

Nikolls finished his whisky and soda. He said: "This guy Charlesworth was shot on the road between his house and Vinter's cottage two nights ago and the police have been snoopin' around plenty. Vinter thinks they're going to arrest him. I think so too. Just how he thinks you're gonna help I don't know."

Callaghan said: "You think he killed Charlesworth?"

Nikolls carried the two empty glasses to the bar, ordered fresh drinks, brought them back. He said: "Listen. This guy Vinter owes Charlesworth a lotta money. Two nights ago Charlesworth heard that Vinter was skippin' to Canada. He went along to see Vinter but he never got there. He was found in the roadway shot, about twenty yards from an A.A. box. It looks like somebody was waitin' for him behind the A.A. box."

Callaghan said: "I see. You think that was Vinter. But what you think isn't evidence."

"That's right enough," said Nikolls. "But this is evidence. Vinter's got a wife, see? He left her six months ago and she don't like him a bit. She's livin' on the other side of Valeham Woods, about five miles away. O.K. Well, on the afternoon of the day that Charlesworth was killed she rang up Mrs. Charlesworth. She said she wanted to speak to her husband. Mrs. Charlesworth said her husband wasn't in. He'd be back about six forty-five. So Mrs. Vinter asked that when he did come in he should ring her, because it was very important. She left her telephone number. You got that?"

Callaghan said: "I've got it."

Nikolls continued: "At about six forty-five Charlesworth gets home. He rings up Mrs. Vinter. Mrs. Vinter tells him she's got an idea that her husband is gonna skip to Canada, that he's gonna take a run-out powder on her and everyone else, and take Charlesworth's dough with him. She says if Charlesworth is gonna do anything about it he'd better get busy. And then she says something else. She tells him to be careful if he's gonna see Vinter. She says Vinter's dangerous. She says that before she left him Vinter told her that ii Charlesworth got funny about his money he'd think nothing of puttin' a bullet into him. Well, is that evidence or is it?"

Callaghan asked: "Do the police know this?"

"You bet they know it," said Nikolls. "Because Charlesworth told his wife what Mrs. Vinter had said on the telephone, before he went out to see Vinter."

Callaghan said: "Well, it doesn't look so good for our client, does it?"

Nikolls nodded. "It certainly does not," he said.

Callaghan asked: "Where was Vinter supposed to be at the time that Charlesworth was killed?"

Nikolls grinned. "He says he was walkin' round the golf course."

Callaghan said: "That's not very good, is it?"

Nikolls said: "You're tellin' me!" He brought out of his pocket an envelope. "There's five hundred pounds in notes in that envelope. That's from Vinter. He says he's heard about you. He thinks you're clever. He says maybe you'll find a way of gettin' him out of this."

Callaghan put the envelope in his pocket. He said: "I don't work for murderers, but you never know. Maybe he didn't do it."

Nikolls said: "Maybe he didn't, but I think he did. He'd got a motive. He'd plenty of reason for wantin' Charlesworth outa the way."

Callaghan asked: "How did Vinter know that Charlesworth was comin' to see him?"

"That's easy," said Nikolls. "The road between Charlesworth's place and Vinter's cottage is a long deserted road. It leads only to the golf course or Vinter's place. Vinter could see down the road from his cottage. If he saw Charlesworth comin' along that road he'd know what he was comin' for, wouldn't he?"

Callaghan said: "It looks to me as if you're right." He finished his drink, got up.

Nikolls said: "What are you gonna do?"

Callaghan said: "I don't know. Just as a start off I think I'll go and see Mrs. Vinter. Where did you say she lives?"

"About five miles away," said Nikolls. "Here's the address."

Callaghan said: "You walk round to the golf club and see if you can pick anything up. Meet me here at seven o'clock to-night."

MRS. VINTER was a woman who had once been beautiful. Now she looked a little pathetic.

Callaghan said: "I'm sorry to bother you, Mrs. Vinter. I'm a private detective. Your husband has asked me to look after his interests. I expect you know what the position is?"

She nodded. She said: "I suppose he thinks he's going to be arrested?"

Callaghan said: "That's right. He thinks so. So do I. But there's no reason why I shouldn't try to do my job, is there?"

She said: "Well, I hope you think you've a chance of being successful."

Callaghan smiled. He said: "Mrs. Vinter, you don't like your husband, do you?"

She said: "Why should I? I've every reason not to like him, but that doesn't mean that I want to see him tried for murder—unless, of course, he committed that murder."

Callaghan said: "Would you mind telling me exactly what happened on the day that Charlesworth was killed so far as you're concerned?"