As if by Magic by Dolores Gordon-Smith Page A

you want to see it, but the gist is that he was leaving for Paris on Thursday morning. He asked me to cancel his appointments for the next couple of days and inform Mrs Culverton he had been called away. He said he would advise me later as to his return. He didn’t actually say that he was going to Paris as a result of the accident but that must have been the reason. If you recall, the accident happened at four o’clock and I imagine the Paris office contacted Mr Culverton in the course of the evening.’
    â€˜That’s something we can probably check,’ said Rackham. ‘Have you any idea what he did when he left the office?’
    â€˜I thought of that, too,’ said Lloyd. He walked to the desk and took a book from the drawer. ‘This is his appointments diary.’ Lloyd opened the book and turned it round so Jack and Rackham could see.
    â€˜Wednesday 31st October,’
read Rackham. ‘There’s a couple of meetings and so on during the day but the entry for the evening reads,
Dinner – Mulciber – N.L. and R.M. – 7.30. Paris
.’
    â€˜Who are N.L. and R.M?’ asked Jack.
    â€˜I imagine that’s Mr Nigel Lassiter and Dr Roger Maguire.’
    Rackham looked pleased. ‘Well, if they did have dinner with him that’s another part of the evening accounted for.’ He closed his notebook. ‘I think that’s about all we can find out here.’ He glanced at Jack. ‘Is there anything you’d like to know?’
    â€˜I wouldn’t mind looking round for a few more minutes, if that’s all right with you, Mr Lloyd.’
    â€˜Be my guest. If you can dispense with my services for the time being, I’ll be in my office. I have quite a lot of work to catch up with, as you can imagine.’
    â€˜Just before you go,’ said Jack, ‘can you tell us the names of any of Mr Culverton’s friends?’
    Lloyd looked blank. ‘I really can’t say, Major. As far as I know, Mr Culverton had no close personal friends. He was devoted to the business and any social engagements were usually connected with the firm in some way.’
    â€˜So no interests or hobbies at all?’
    Lloyd very nearly smiled. ‘No, Major. If you had known Mr Culverton you would realize how improbable a suggestion that is.’ He walked to the door. ‘I shall be in the next room if you require anything further.’
    Lloyd left the two men together. ‘Mr Culverton sounds a barrel of laughs,’ said Rackham. ‘What did you want to look for in here, Jack? Anything in particular?’
    Jack hitched himself on to the massive desk. ‘Some sort of clue as to who he was, I suppose. He doesn’t sound a very well-loved sort, does he?’ He nodded towards the painting behind him. ‘I might be reading too much into it but I don’t think our Mr Culverton was a very pleasant bloke.’
    â€˜Someone obviously agreed with you,’ said Rackham drily. ‘I’ll say this for him though, he clearly had personality. I know his wife left him but she married him in the first place and she was the one with the money, don’t forget. He must have had something going for him,’
    â€˜Yes,’ agreed Jack. The image of the Holbein portrait was very strong in his mind. ‘I think he was a bully.’
    Rackham laughed. ‘He might have been. I don’t see how you can possibly be so sure though.’
    â€˜It’s the pictures of him. That and Mr Lloyd’s reactions.’ Jack got off the desk and wandered round it, opening the drawers at random. ‘What can this desk tell us? There’s clean blotting paper in the blotter, so no clue there.’ He opened a drawer. ‘Pens, paper-clips, a hole-punch and so on,’ he said, rummaging through the contents. ‘Headed notepaper, a box of cigars and two lighters. There’s something else right at the back. It’s a box of some