Night Train to Jamalpur(106)

Askwith put down his knife and fork, and there was no prospect of his finishing the ravioli. His two-thousand-plus rupees per mensem, his freedom, his very life, now hung in the balance. ‘Harold Jebb – some people called him Harry . . . he and I never really saw eye to eye. He was perhaps in some degree resentful not to have achieved the promotions to which he felt merited by his abilities, and it’s possible he found me a hard taskmaster in a difficult and demanding job. I don’t wish to appear uncharitable, but I’m afraid it’s perfectly likely that this document of his would have contained numerous libels against his superior officers, and in particular against me.’

‘Well, I don’t know what the file said.’

‘No?’

‘Except that it alleged corruption. It was stolen from me on the very day I received it: 19 April.’

‘But . . . who do you suppose would have stolen it?’

‘I suppose you did.’

Askwith poured himself another glass of Chianti. His hand did not shake, but he drank it off fast, his face contracting with each gulp, somehow like one of those pale creatures that live on the bottom of the sea. ‘I most certainly did not,’ he said, setting down his glass.

‘Then somebody did it on your behalf. Perhaps your friend Superintendent Bennett?’

Askwith now sat back from the table, relinquishing the whole meal.

I said, ‘I have since been given some idea of the contents of the file.’

‘By whom?’

‘By the man who sent it.’

‘You have contacted Jebb, presumably telegraphically? But surely he is still at sea?’

He was spot on about the telegraphic communication, but not about Jebb being at sea. He had arrived safely in Eastbourne.

I said, ‘The source, when confronted, was only happy to identify himself as the author of the document, and to give the gist of its contents. He said had received intelligence that you had been given five hundred rupees by Macpherson Trading, makers of wheels for trains, in return for which you would argue the case for substantial increases in rolling stock. Of course, if that case were made successfully, the Board would sanction a big order from Macphersons.’

‘I see,’ said Askwith. ‘And did he say how he had found that out?’

‘At first, again, he was reluctant.’

‘But not for long?’

‘When pressed, he said the intelligence came from a senior man at the firm of Walker-Mitchell Engineering.’

‘Who also make wheels,’ said Askwith, nodding slowly.

‘Correct.’

‘But who are in a smaller way of business,’ Askwith continued, ‘and whom we may assume look upon the market position of Macphersons with more than a little jealousy.’

Askwith was rallying, and this wouldn’t do.

‘Is the allegation true?’ I asked.

His small face gave another spasm, and there was suddenly a tear in his eye. I had not bargained for this, and it quite mortified me. I asked if he would care for some water. Askwith shook his head.

‘I took the money,’ he said. ‘It was a cheque, payable to me personally, and drawn against the Macphersons account. It was sent by a man I know a little. I am not well acquainted with him. His name is Beattie: Patrick Beattie, a director of the firm. We had had a discussion about the traffic situation on the line; about how we as a department were over-stretched, and how the fleets ought really to be supplemented, in both passenger and goods. This was, and is, genuinely the case.’

‘But still you took a bribe.’

‘That’s how it looks, but I had discussed another matter with Beattie. The St Dunstan’s Fund. I think you know of it. My wife is a patron.’

I nodded. ‘She gave me a leaflet about it. Two leaflets, in fact.’

‘It feeds the poor children of Calcutta. The cheque from Beattie was accompanied by a chit. It read simply, “For the cause that is dear to both our hearts.”’

‘But the cheque was made out to you.’

‘I decided to interpret that as a slip of the pen, and it wasn’t so great a sum. In any event I paid the cheque into my account, and I immediately transferred the same amount to the St Dunstan’s account.’

‘You have the records to prove this?’

‘Of course, of course. But my action was naive. And it came to seem to me that it could prove disastrous.’

‘You somehow got wind that Jebb was splitting on you. You learnt of the dossier, and you arranged for its removal from my office.’

‘I did so with the assistance of a friend. I would rather not say more, except for this: what Jebb stated was true as to the facts, but wrong as to the construction put upon them.’