Something Sinister Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  1. The Missing Dunne-Smythes

  2. The New Butler

  3. Dundsley Manor

  4. Mr McAllister

  5. Madame Bovlatska

  6. The Damning Newspaper Article

  7. The Crossing

  8. Antwerp

  9. Flynt's Report

  10. The Inappropriate Portrait

  11. A Dark and Dangerous Man

  12. Where the Water Meets the Land

  13. The Misfortunes of Miss Carew

  Epilogue

  Other Books by Olivier Bosman

  Something Sinister

  Olivier Bosman

  Copyright © 2017 Olivier Bosman

  All rights reserved.

  https://www.olivierbosman.com/

  1. The Missing Dunne-Smythes

  “Good morning, Mr Billings.”

  The clerk at the reception desk was looking at Detective Sergeant Billings as he entered the Scotland Yard building carrying a dog. “What’s that you got there?” he asked, leaning over the desk to get a better look. He saw an ugly yellow dog in the detective’s arms, panting frantically and looking around nervously at its surroundings. There were some ugly open sores on its back legs. “Cor! What happened to its legs?” the clerk asked, pulling a face.

  “I found her cowering under the floorboards of an ale house,” Billings explained. “A group of boys was poking sticks at her. Will you ask Jack to bring a bowl of water up to my office?”

  “’Ere, you’re not taking that filthy cur upstairs with you, are ya?”

  “I am. Tell Jack to hurry up.” Turning, he carried the dog to the staircase.

  “By the way, Mr Billings, it’s nine twenty-five,” the clerk called after him.

  Billings stopped on the staircase and looked back. “What?”

  “You came into the building at nine twenty-five.” The clerk took a logbook and pencil from his desk drawer. “Chief Inspector Flynt has asked me to record the times at which his detectives come into work.”

  “Why?”

  The clerk shrugged. “I suppose he has a bee in his bonnet about punctuality.” He jotted the time down in his logbook. “I’m putting down nine twenty-five. That’s one hour and twenty-five minutes after you were due. Just so that you know.”

  Billings frowned and cursed under his breath as he started climbing the stairs towards his office.

  As Billings walked down the corridor with the dog, he saw a woman sitting on a bench outside his office. The woman sat up as Billings approached. “Are you Detective Sergeant Billings?” she asked.

  “Yes,” Billings responded absent-mindedly. He wasn’t looking at the woman. Instead he was concentrating on the dog in his arms, who was still panting and looking nervous.

  “I’ve been sitting out here for nearly an hour!” The woman got off the bench and approached the detective, clutching a piece of paper.

  Billings finally looked up and was taken aback by the angry expression on the woman’s face. “Were you waiting for me?” he asked.

  “You are to interview me.” The woman held the piece of paper in front of the detective’s nose so that he could read it. It was a referral from the Kent police. “You have taken over the case of the missing Dunne-Smythes,” the woman explained, “and you are to interview me. It says so in here.”

  “The missing who?”

  “The Dunne-Smythes!” the woman repeated. “They’ve been missing for over two months! I’ve been pleading with the Kent police to look into this for ages. It seems they have finally handed the case over to Scotland Yard and I was to report here to be interviewed by you at eight o’clock. Well, it’s now half past nine and I’ve been sitting in this cold corridor for over an hour!”

  “Well, I do apologize, Miss… um…”

  “Kemp. Miss Rachel Kemp. I am the Dunne-Smythes’ former housekeeper.”

  “I’m afraid I know nothing of this case.”

  “But you are Detective Sergeant Billings! It says here that the case has been handed over to Detective Sergeant Billings, and that’s you!” She was waving the sheet of paper in the air again.

  “Well, that may be so, but this is the first I’ve heard of it. There may be a file in my office about it. If you don’t mind waiting out here for a while longer, I will go into my office and…”

  “You want me to wait some more?”

  “Just for a little while longer, Miss Kemp. While I look for the file and acquaint myself with the details.”

  “Well, I will not do it, Mr Billings! I have waited long enough! The Dunne-Smythes are in grave danger! They may well be dead!”

  The woman stamped her foot on the floor as she said this, which frightened the dog and caused it to snap at her. Both Billings and the woman were taken aback by this sudden show of aggression.

  “Oh, I do apologise, Miss Kemp,” Billings said, gently caressing the dog’s head. “Your sudden movements must have scared her. Please will you calm down and take a seat.”

  Shaken by the dog’s reaction, the woman quickly returned to the bench and sat down. “You’re not taking me seriously!” she said. Tears were welling in her eyes. “Why will nobody take me seriously!”

  Billings felt pity for the woman and attempted a smile. “I assure you, Miss Kemp, at Scotland Yard we take every case seriously. I will go into the office right now and look for the case file. I’ll be back as quickly as I can.”

  *

  Clarkson was sitting at his desk with his legs on the table and a newspaper in his hand when Billings came in with the dog. “Morning, Billings; you’re late,” he said. Then he suddenly noticed the dog. “What the heck you got there?” He put the newspaper down, got up from his seat and walked towards his colleague to get a better look.

  “Help me take my coat off, will you?”

  “What for?”

  “Come on, Clarkson, be a good chap.”

  Billings continued to keep a firm grip on the dog while Clarkson helped him pull off his coat. “Put it down on the floor,” he instructed.

  “You’re not going to lay that filthy cur on your coat, are ya?”

  “Just do it, Clarkson.”

  Clarkson laid the coat on the floor and Billings crouched down to put the dog on it. Then he took a step back and looked at it. The dog stopped panting and quickly curled itself up on the coat and rested its head on its paws. It looked exhausted.

  “That dog looks diseased,” Clarkson observed. “Where’ve you been?”

  “I was rescuing the dog from a bunch of hoodlums who were poking it with a stick.”

  “What happened to the hoodlums?”

  “They got away.”

  “Flynt’s been looking for you. He’s got a new case for us.”

  “Yes, I know. The missing Dunne-Smythes.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I was accosted by a hysterical woman outside. Apparently I’m supposed to be interviewing her.”

  “That’s Miss Kemp.” Clarkson rolled his eyes as he mentioned her name. “She’s been here all morning. She keeps storming into the office demanding to speak to you.”

  “Who are the Dunne-Smythes? Is there a file?” Billings looked around him.

  “Flynt’s got the file. He wants to brief us on it before he hands it over.”

  A teenage boy suddenly opened the door and entered the office. He was carrying a bowl of water. “I’ve been told to bring this up,” he said.

  “Put it there, Jack.” Billings pointed to the dog.

  “Cor blimey!” the boy exclaimed after clocking the dog. “What a mangy-looking beast!”

  “I want you to take that dog to my home later,” Billings said.
>
  “That dog? It looks rabid!”

  “It’s not rabid, Jack. I’ll give you a shilling for it.”

  The boy thought about this. “I’ll do it for a sovereign,” he offered.

  “A sovereign?”

  “I won’t go anywhere near it for less.”

  Billings hesitated. “Very well. A sovereign, then. Come back in an hour.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The boy put the bowl down on the ground and left the office.

  “That boy’s getting cheekier every day,” Billings remarked after Jack had left.

  Suddenly the sliding door to the adjoining office opened and a burly-looking man appeared in the doorway. “Billings!” he called. “How kind of you to finally grace us with your presence.”

  Billings frowned at the sarcastic tone. “I’m sorry I’m late, Mr Flynt,” he mumbled. “I saw a bunch of hoodlums attacking a dog on my way to work and I had to intervene.”

  Suddenly Flynt saw the dog on the floor. “Good grief,” he exclaimed. “What on earth did you bring that filthy beast in here for!”

  “I’ve asked Jack to take it to my home. I intend to nurse it back to health.”

  “You are a Scotland Yard detective, Billings, not a beat constable. It is not your job to rescue stray dogs or to chase after hoodlums. This is not a legitimate excuse for your tardiness, but I will discuss that with you later.”

  Billings rolled his eyes in agitation, but didn’t say anything.

  “In the meantime, we’ve been handed a new case,” Flynt continued, “and I would like to brief you on it.” He walked towards his desk, unlocked the drawer and pulled out a file. “Sit down, both of you,” he said, taking the file to the meeting table.

  Billings and Clarkson entered the adjoining office, pulled up some chairs and joined him at the table.

  “The case of the missing Dunne-Smythes,” Flynt said as he opened the file. “You’ll have heard of Dunne-Smythe and McAllister, of course.” He looked from Billings to Clarkson. Both men looked back, confused. “Well, come on, chaps,” Flynt said. “You drink their product every morning.”

  “Oh, the coffee manufacturers,” Clarkson offered.

  “That’s right. Well, on the night of November 21, 1890, Mr Dunne-Smythe, his wife, her sister and their butler stepped into a carriage at their home in Kent and drove off, never to be seen again. They were reported missing by a former member of staff a few days later. But as there was no reason to suspect any criminal activity at the time, no action was taken to locate them. Until, that is, Mr McAllister – the second half of the famous coffee duo – discovered some discrepancies in his company’s bookkeeping. Mr Dunne-Smythe is now suspected of embezzlement and the case has swiftly been handed over to Scotland Yard. So, gentlemen, what’s our next move?”

  “Well, if they disappeared over two months ago,” Billings suggested, “I suppose our next move is to check whether they’re still in the country.”

  “The Kent police have already run a check with all the liners. No passages were bought out of this country under their names. And Dunne-Smythe’s bank account has been frozen now, so he’ll soon run out of money.”

  Suddenly the door to the office swung open and the woman from the corridor came barging in. “I refuse to sit out here any longer!” she yelled. “I demand to speak to someone immediately!”

  The three detectives were taken aback by her interruption.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Flynt yelled, rising from his seat and walking towards her. “This is a private office! Get out!”

  “But I was to present myself for an interview at this building at eight o’clock!” the woman protested. “I have been here for nearly two hours!”

  “Out, I said!” Flynt started pushing the woman out through the doorway. “You do not barge into a detective’s office uninvited! Have you no respect for authority? Get out!”

  “But…”

  “Out, you impudent wench!” Flynt succeeded in getting her out of the office and proceeded to lock the door. “Well!” he said, turning back to the other detectives, who were staring at him, shocked by the abrasive manner with which he had dealt with the woman. “Have you ever seen such impudence! That is what is wrong with society nowadays. Civilians must be taught to respect authority or our jobs as policemen will be made impossible!” He returned to the table and sat down. “Now, where were we?”

  “No passages have been bought under the name of Dunne-Smythe,” Billings reminded him.

  “Yes. So assuming they have not left the country using forged papers, we should still be able to find them. I suggest we start from the beginning and find out where that carriage drove them to when they stepped into it on November 21st. Now, the Kent police have arranged for a former servant of the Dunne-Smythes to visit us. She’s the one who reported the initial disappearance. She should be here any moment now. I’m sure she’ll be able to enlighten us.”

  Billings and Clarkson exchanged amused glances.

  “What?” Flynt asked his detectives, looking confused.

  “I think that was her just now,” Clarkson said.

  “Who?”

  “The woman you pushed out of the office. That was Miss Rachel Kemp. The Dunne-Smythes’ former housekeeper.”

  “And you just called her an impudent wench,” Billings added, stifling a smile.

  Flynt went pale with shock. “Why didn’t you say so?”

  *

  Miss Kemp was sitting on one side of the meeting table, sobbing into her handkerchief. The three detectives were sitting opposite her, patiently listening to her complaints with humble and apologetic smiles on their faces.

  “Never in my life have I been treated with such contempt!” she complained. “I’ve been worried sick for two months! I’ve been hassling the Kent police every day until they finally passed the case over to Scotland Yard! And now you keep me waiting outside in a cold corridor! You shout at me! You shove me! You insult me!”

  “I have already apologized to you for that, Miss Kemp,” Flynt said, no longer able to hide his impatience. “There’s no need to keep bringing it up every few minutes. Now, please tell us exactly what you saw on that night of November 21st when the Dunne-Smythes left their house.”

  “Well, I didn’t see anything, Inspector. I wasn’t there.”

  Flynt looked surprised. “You weren’t there?”

  “No. I left their service eight months ago. I was sacked. We all were. Mr Dunne-Smythe got rid of all of his servants except for the butler and a couple of the housemaids. Rosie was one of the housemaids who was left behind. She’s the one who told me how the family got into the carriage at fifteen minutes past midnight and drove off. When she woke up the following morning, they were still gone. They haven’t been seen since.”

  “Where is this Rosie now?” Flynt asked.

  “She’s still there, at Dundsley Manor, with the other maid, Flora. They’ve been waiting all this time for the Dunne-Smythes to return. They haven’t been paid for two months.”

  “Can we interview the maids?”

  “Of course you can! I’ve been begging the Kent police to do so, but they’ve been useless! Absolutely useless!”

  “Why were you sacked, Miss Kemp?”

  “It was all on account of that new butler, that Willy Guntz! He’s behind all of this, mark my words! He’s only been with the Dunne-Smythes for thirteen months and all that time he’s been doing nothing but scheming and plotting and pushing himself into the family’s affections. He’s been manipulating Mr Dunne-Smythe ever since he moved in. I have never trusted that man! I’m telling you, Inspector, he’s the one who’s behind their disappearance. He is holding them hostage somewhere. Either that or he’s murdered them!”

  “Now, now. Let’s not start making any wild accusations, Miss Kemp. There is no evidence of any crime having been committed yet. All we have is a missing family and some discrepancies in the bookkeeping of Dunne-Smythe and McAllister. Now, why don’t you start from
the beginning and tell us all about this butler. This… um…”

  “Guntz,” Miss Kemp reminded him. “Willy Guntz.”

  “How did he come to be employed by Mr Dunne-Smythe?”

  “Might I trouble you for something to drink first, Inspector? My throat is awfully dry.”

  “Certainly.” He turned towards his colleague. “Clarkson, go get us some tea.”

  Clarkson got up from the table. “I’ll tell Jack to bring us a tea tray,” he said, and he walked towards the corridor.

  2. The New Butler

  Statement made by Miss Rachel Kemp, former housekeeper of Mr Dunne-Smythe. February 14th, 1891

  I suppose it all started with Miss Carew. Miss Carew is Mrs Dunne-Smythe’s sister. She moved into the house five years ago after her parents died. Miss Carew is a very nervous and anxious woman. Terribly shy – painfully so, in fact – and far too sensitive. She’s nearly thirty and has never been married. I gather that she was once engaged, but the prospect of marriage and the upcoming wedding ceremony caused her such anxiety that it made her ill. The wedding had to be called off and the engagement was subsequently dissolved. I don’t know the name of the man she was supposed to marry, but he was prominent and wealthy. Miss Carew’s inability to go through with the marriage caused a scandal and it has brought a certain amount of shame to her family. Needless to say, no further marriage proposals have come her way and Miss Carew has resigned herself to remaining a spinster. She never quite recovered from the ordeal and hardly ever ventures out of the house. Mr Dunne-Smythe has very little patience with her. He considers her an embarrassment and can barely tolerate her presence. In a house like Dundsley Manor the staff will often follow their master’s example and take a dislike to whomever the master has shown to be beneath him. I’m afraid that the servants could sometimes also be short with Miss Carew. I tried to discourage it, of course, but I couldn’t control every action of the household servants. The Dunne-Smythe children take after their father and were also very rude to her. Miss Alice and Master Eugene, in particular. If they’d been my children I’d have slapped them for their impertinence, but it was not my business to interfere with their upbringing. Only the eldest of the children was kind towards her. That was Master Alexander, but he died eighteen months ago in a drowning accident which deeply affected Miss Carew. I’m telling you all this so that you understand that Miss Carew was a very unhappy woman who felt completely out of place in the house and whose only ally was her sister. This might help you to understand why Miss Carew took such a shine to Willy Guntz and why she brought him into the house.