Seventy-Seven Clocks by Christopher Fowler

Author:Christopher Fowler [Fowler, Christopher]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
Tags: Historical Mystery
ISBN: 9780553587159
Publisher: Random House, Inc.
Published: 2011-02-17T23:00:00+00:00

24 / Closing Ranks

Bryant insisted on driving his battered yellow Mini Minor to their South London appointment. Although his skill in negotiating major intersections had marginally improved in the last few years (the only useful by-product of endless driving tests failed since the late 1950s), he considered a number of traffic signs to be superfluous, including those that involved changing lanes, giving way, or avoiding pedestrians. Weaving through the lunchtime traffic in Victoria proved to be a logistical challenge, but Bryant remained oblivious to the shouts and honks of dumbfounded fellow motorists. Even highway-hardened lorry drivers blanched and braked when faced with Bryant’s blithe disrespect for the road.

‘Leo Marks has sent down masses of documents pertaining to the financial history of the Whitstable empire,’ said May. ‘Janice is going through them, but it’s a laborious job. There are literally hundreds of holding companies going back across the century. The family has been suffering from declining fortunes for years. Their philanthropy is well established and beyond reproach, although their business practices throughout the last century show plenty of nasty tarnishes. Lawsuits, maltreatment of workforce, exploitation of minors, racial discrimination, restrictive practices, stuff like that.’

‘The Victorians became less forgiving as they expanded their empire.’ Bryant peered through the windscreen for an all-clear, then stamped down on the accelerator. ‘They felt God was on their side. It’s always a mistake mixing religion and business. Look what happened when Christian soldiers moved into the East India Company. In its early days of trading, it prided itself on empathy for other tribes and creeds, but respect fell away as the desire to convert took hold. We need to find somebody who’s been harmed by the Whitstables in their financial dealings. We might hear a few home truths then.’

‘They’ve closed ranks against outsiders, Arthur, ever since we began conducting interviews. Their answers sound rehearsed.’

‘Then we’ll conquer by dividing them up.’

Bryant and his partner walked briskly along the river footpath at Vauxhall, a dismal part of the Embankment barely cheered by sunlight refracting from the leaden waters of the Thames. Daisy Whitstable had been missing for over thirty-six hours. There had been no new developments in the search for the bogus ice-cream van, and now the capital had begun emptying out for the Christmas holidays.

May kicked out at a stone, sending it skittering. He had never felt so helpless in his search for a common enemy, and the strain of the past two weeks was beginning to show. ‘I think they’ve been told not to speak to us by a senior member of the family,’ he complained.

‘I don’t know who. We’ve interviewed virtually all of them.’

‘No family is impregnable, Arthur. There must be a weak link. We can’t just wait until someone breaks from the party line.’

On the previous evening, the detectives had attempted to speak to Mina Whitstable, the bedridden mother of William, Peter, and Bella. For the last five years the old lady’s grip on reality had been tenuous, and the deaths of her children had provided the final push into mental aphasia.

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