Taylor and Randall had issued a false prospectus and a false balance sheet, the documents convincingly drawn up to persuade investors that the company had substantial assets, which was not the case. When the fraud was exposed the company was wound up with enormous debts and the investors lost all their money.
When the case finally came to trial in 1864, it was found that Taylor and Randall, each of whom had been bailed in the sum of £2,000, were nowhere to be found. It was eventually discovered that they had absconded and gone abroad, much to the distress of the friends who had stood surety for them in good faith. The other defendants were all acquitted.
I do not believe that Mr Holt was involved with the fraud, or at any rate his name has never been mentioned in connection with it.
Yours faithfully
R Phipps
William Cobbe, bank manager, thought Mina. Could he be the same man who attended Mrs Barnham’s séances, the man concerning whom Mr Merridew entertained suspicions?
It was late afternoon, the time between luncheon and dinner, when the minds of English persons naturally turn to the subject of tea. Mina had just enjoyed a cup of milky tea and a slice of plain sponge cake and was comfortably settled in the armchair where she was now preferring to spend more of her time than in her bed. She was studying Page’s Directory which Rose considered to be very peculiar reading indeed since it was only lists of names and advertisements. Every so often, Mina would look up at the window, hoping for a turn in the weather. She was craving the brightness of the sun, warm breezes on her face, and the smell of the sea. Disappointed in the prospect of all three, she returned to the book, when there was a knock on her door, and she raised her head with a sudden realisation of how weary she was and rubbed her eyes.
Rose entered, thankfully without the hot poultice, which was now no longer thought necessary, bearing only a visitor’s card which she was regarding with an expression of curiosity.
‘It’s a Mr Vardy, Miss. He presents his compliments, and good wishes for your health, and says that if you are too fatigued to see him, he quite understands, and if that is the case, he will depart without troubling you and come another time. Were you expecting him?’
‘I was not.’ Mina looked at the card, which advertised the company of Saltmire and Vardy, Fine Porcelain, but was also printed with the name S Vardy, managing director. ‘Where is he now?’
‘In the front parlour, Miss.’
‘I take it he only wishes to see me if I am well enough to endure company?’
‘Yes, Miss.’ Rose gave her a hard look but did not express an opinion.
‘Well I shan’t disappoint him.’ Mina decided that she ought to have another person present at her interview with a male stranger. ‘Where is mother?’
‘Mrs Scarletti is in the drawing room with Mrs Phipps and Mrs Bettinson and a great deal of cake. Miss Cherry is there too. She is wearing a new bonnet.’
Mina smiled. ‘In that case I will not ask you to disturb them. Is my brother here? I suppose he is not back from his employment yet.’
‘No, Miss.’
‘Very well. You may bring some tea if Mr Vardy wishes it. And cake if there is any left. Don’t bring the biscuits, they are only fit to make trifle. Since I am not acquainted with Mr Vardy, I will require you to remain.’
Rose departed, and Mina settled comfortably in her swaddle of shawls and wraps and scarves. The directory had already informed her that the Vardys occupied a family house in Hove, in one of the tall white terraces sloping down towards the sea, which proclaimed them to be comfortably off although not especially wealthy.
Rose appeared with Mr Vardy but no tea or cake. Mina reassured the maid that there was nothing more she required and there was a desultory arranging of the blankets about her shoulders which needed no arranging but served to enable Rose to stare closely at Mr Vardy a little longer before she settled into a chair in the corner and took out needle, thread and a handkerchief that required some attention to its edging.
Mr Vardy remained standing and smiled at Mina. He was clearly awaiting orders. ‘Please do take a seat, Mr Vardy,’ said Mina.
He bowed and drew up an armchair facing her. ‘I am very happy to find that you are able to agree to my visit,’ he said. ‘I have heard reports that you have been extremely unwell, and I did fear that you might not yet be strong enough for an interview.’
‘Rest assured that I am mending well, and my doctor advises me that I can expect a return to full health,’ said Mina.
Mr Vardy smiled again. Mina studied his appearance and estimated that he was aged about thirty-five. He was above medium height, very well groomed with smooth dark hair and a short finely trimmed beard. It struck Mina that had she been writing a mystery story about a missing man who was rumoured to be dead, she might have devised a plot in which he returned under another name having changed his appearance in order to avoid his creditors, and remarried the supposed widow. This clearly could not be the case here, as Mr Vardy was too young, too tall and too robust to be the ailing and middle-aged Mr Holt in disguise.
He sat at ease his hands folded together. If he had ever worked with porcelain in his life there was no sign of it, none of the wear that would have imprinted itself on his skin. Mina guessed that he had always been an office administrator, more used to pen and ink than paste and kiln.
‘I am so very glad that you are improving,’ he said. ‘I had better explain the reason for my visit. I have learned very recently that my wife has consulted you on two occasions — in fact she has taxed you with assisting her on private matters relating to our family. I cannot tell you how disturbed I was to discover this. First of all, her actions were taken without my authority or knowledge. I hardly need to explain to you my feelings on this. Also, of equal if not greater importance, I am very concerned for you, in case by her thoughtlessness, she has inadvertently caused a relapse.’
‘There is one thing I wish to make clear,’ said Mina. ‘When Mrs Vardy sought to consult me, she was at the time quite unaware that I was unwell. There was no way she could have known, and if she had, I am sure she would not have written to me. As soon as I had recovered sufficiently to deal with my correspondence, I wrote to her suggesting a meeting. Whether or not she had consulted you, I did not enquire. It was not my place to do so. I can reassure you that there has been no detriment to my health, but even if there had been, the blame would have been all mine.’
‘Well, be that as it may,’ said Mr Vardy, unappeased, ‘I have deemed it inadvisable for you to be troubled by matters that do not in any way concern you or your family, especially while you are still convalescent. If you were to suffer any harm by so doing, I would never forgive myself, and I am sure that Charlotte would be most distressed.’
Mr Vardy did not wear a wedding ring, but he had a gentleman’s gold signet ring on the little finger of his left hand. It had an antique look, like something his father or grandfather might have worn. As he spoke, he held the ring between the thumb and forefinger of his right hand, and gave it a little twist, first one way, then the other.
As Mina saw Mr Vardy squeeze and twist the little ring, she suddenly became strongly aware of the packets of papers brought by Mrs Vardy on her recent visit which were locked away in her writing desk on the other side of the room where it faced the window. It took a considerable effort of will not to glance in that direction. He could not have known that she had the papers, or he would surely have demanded their return, and she did not want to provide him with any indication of their whereabouts.