Bentham.’
‘He’s a QC and has rooms in Wentworth Chambers on Phillip Street, sir,’ put in Saunders, his exuberant personality undeniable.
‘I’m aware of that,’ replied Fitzjohn. ‘That may explain Mrs Harford’s reluctance to volunteer who she was with.’
‘Who spoke to Michael Wycliffe?’ asked Fitzjohn.
‘I did, sir,’ said Carruthers opening his notebook, ‘at his Circular Quay restaurant. Personable sort of man. Apparently, he’s the Treasurer of a fundraising committee that Laurence Harford was involved with, and called into Brayshaw’s on an ad hoc basis whenever he had cheques that needed to be counter-signed.’
‘What about last night?’
‘As a matter of fact, he brought that up himself and confirmed what Charlotte Holmes said. He’d been at his restaurant at The Rocks and was making his way up to Circular Quay. His recollection does differ slightly from Mrs Holmes, however.’
‘Oh?’
‘Yes. He said he saw a woman with shoulder length blonde hair speaking to a man who he described as being of medium height, with a stocky build, and dark hair. He also said that he thinks it could have been Eric Holmes, although with it being fairly dark at the time, he wasn’t sure.’
Fitzjohn looked at Betts. ‘Were you able to check out Holmes’s story, Betts?’
‘Yes, sir. The publican and his wife both remember seeing Holmes last evening. He arrived about six, had one drink and left. The publican’s wife said he seemed a bit agitated. Not his usual friendly self.’
‘Mmm. I wonder if he was agitated enough to return to Brayshaw’s.’
‘And kill Laurence Harford.’
‘Yes,’ replied Fitzjohn.
‘Has Charles Conroy determined how Laurence Harford died, sir?’
‘Not conclusively. Whether the fall down the stairs and/or Dr Harford’s assault on him contributed to his death is still to be determined. He was alive when he was stabbed in the chest, however.’ Saunders winced. ‘Hopefully unconscious.’
The five men sat in silence for a moment or two before Fitzjohn continued. ‘That army beret, Betts. I don’t know quite how we’re going to tackle finding its original owner.’
‘I’ve been giving that some thought, sir. Laurence Harford was a prolific collector of military memorabilia. I think there’s a good chance he did service. If so, we might find something.’
‘Well, it’s as good a place to start as any. Have a word with his wife, Betts.’ Fitzjohn paused. ‘It may lead to nothing, but I don’t want to leave anything to chance. And then there are those bank statements. I had them looked over. It seems that Edward Harford withdrew a certain amount of money each month and the payee was Laurence Harford.’
‘Blackmail, sir?’ asked Williams.
‘It’s a possibility, but would you blackmail your own brother?’
‘I don’t have a brother, sir.’ Saunders snickered. Fitzjohn ignored Williams’s dry humour.
‘Julia Harford did say there was a rift between the two brothers,’ put in Betts.
‘I know, but blackmail seems extreme, although, anything’s possible.’ Fitzjohn looked around at the four younger men. ‘The older you get the more cynical you’ll all become, believe me.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘It’s getting late. I think we’ll call it a day.’
‘What about Thomas Bentham, sir?’ asked Betts.
‘I’ll see to Mr Bentham first thing in the morning.’
Fitzjohn remained after Betts and the other officers left, lingering as he usually did at the end of each day. It served to minimise the length of time he had to spend at home alone. A time when thoughts of Edith and their life together crept into his thoughts, magnifying how much he missed her. He rose from his chair and went to the window where he looked down onto the street below, deserted for the most part, its wet pavement glistening under the street lights.
‘Alistair?’ Fitzjohn
‘He’s a QC and has rooms in Wentworth Chambers on Phillip Street, sir,’ put in Saunders, his exuberant personality undeniable.
‘I’m aware of that,’ replied Fitzjohn. ‘That may explain Mrs Harford’s reluctance to volunteer who she was with.’
‘Who spoke to Michael Wycliffe?’ asked Fitzjohn.
‘I did, sir,’ said Carruthers opening his notebook, ‘at his Circular Quay restaurant. Personable sort of man. Apparently, he’s the Treasurer of a fundraising committee that Laurence Harford was involved with, and called into Brayshaw’s on an ad hoc basis whenever he had cheques that needed to be counter-signed.’
‘What about last night?’
‘As a matter of fact, he brought that up himself and confirmed what Charlotte Holmes said. He’d been at his restaurant at The Rocks and was making his way up to Circular Quay. His recollection does differ slightly from Mrs Holmes, however.’
‘Oh?’
‘Yes. He said he saw a woman with shoulder length blonde hair speaking to a man who he described as being of medium height, with a stocky build, and dark hair. He also said that he thinks it could have been Eric Holmes, although with it being fairly dark at the time, he wasn’t sure.’
Fitzjohn looked at Betts. ‘Were you able to check out Holmes’s story, Betts?’
‘Yes, sir. The publican and his wife both remember seeing Holmes last evening. He arrived about six, had one drink and left. The publican’s wife said he seemed a bit agitated. Not his usual friendly self.’
‘Mmm. I wonder if he was agitated enough to return to Brayshaw’s.’
‘And kill Laurence Harford.’
‘Yes,’ replied Fitzjohn.
‘Has Charles Conroy determined how Laurence Harford died, sir?’
‘Not conclusively. Whether the fall down the stairs and/or Dr Harford’s assault on him contributed to his death is still to be determined. He was alive when he was stabbed in the chest, however.’ Saunders winced. ‘Hopefully unconscious.’
The five men sat in silence for a moment or two before Fitzjohn continued. ‘That army beret, Betts. I don’t know quite how we’re going to tackle finding its original owner.’
‘I’ve been giving that some thought, sir. Laurence Harford was a prolific collector of military memorabilia. I think there’s a good chance he did service. If so, we might find something.’
‘Well, it’s as good a place to start as any. Have a word with his wife, Betts.’ Fitzjohn paused. ‘It may lead to nothing, but I don’t want to leave anything to chance. And then there are those bank statements. I had them looked over. It seems that Edward Harford withdrew a certain amount of money each month and the payee was Laurence Harford.’
‘Blackmail, sir?’ asked Williams.
‘It’s a possibility, but would you blackmail your own brother?’
‘I don’t have a brother, sir.’ Saunders snickered. Fitzjohn ignored Williams’s dry humour.
‘Julia Harford did say there was a rift between the two brothers,’ put in Betts.
‘I know, but blackmail seems extreme, although, anything’s possible.’ Fitzjohn looked around at the four younger men. ‘The older you get the more cynical you’ll all become, believe me.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘It’s getting late. I think we’ll call it a day.’
‘What about Thomas Bentham, sir?’ asked Betts.
‘I’ll see to Mr Bentham first thing in the morning.’
Fitzjohn remained after Betts and the other officers left, lingering as he usually did at the end of each day. It served to minimise the length of time he had to spend at home alone. A time when thoughts of Edith and their life together crept into his thoughts, magnifying how much he missed her. He rose from his chair and went to the window where he looked down onto the street below, deserted for the most part, its wet pavement glistening under the street lights.
‘Alistair?’ Fitzjohn
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