DI Jack Frost 01 - Frost At Christmas

stuck in this terrible place without it." She caught her husband's eye then looked away, biting her lip. Excusing herself, she left them.
    Powell stared at his right leg. He declined the cigarette Frost offered him. "Right, Inspector. We come to the day of the robbery. July 26, 1951."
    Frost dribbled out three smoke-rings and watched proudly as they wafted over to Powell in perfect formation. "Before you go any further, sir, why didn't you warn the police you were sending £20,000 by road?"
    Powell flicked away the smoke-rings with an irritated gesture. "This was 1951, Inspector. We didn't have security vans, armed guards, or bandits with shotguns. We were civilized. We had the death penalty and life was a lot safer for the law-abiding."
    "It didn't turn out very safe for the skeleton, sir," murmured Frost.
    Powell's long fingers kneaded his leg muscle. "I've had thirty-two years to reproach myself over that, thank you. At the time I considered the fewer people who knew about the transfer the better. It was all arranged at the last minute, it was a very short car ride and there were several alternative routes that could be used. I wouldn't even fix a time for the operation until about half an hour before. It was hardly giving the criminal element a chance."
    "But they didn't do too badly in spite of all your precautions, did they?"
    The old man's face hardened. "I hadn't allowed for the thief being a member of my own staff." He hesitated. "At least, that's what we've thought for the past three decades. If it wasn't Fawcus, then I don't know what went wrong."
    The coldness in the room was damp and insinuating. Frost pulled his scarf tighter. "Apart from yourself, sir, and the manager at Exley, who knew about the transfer?"
    "Until I told Fawcus and Garwood, nobody."
    "What about the people at the Exley branch?"
    "I don't know. Harrington was emphatic he'd told no one, but . . ." He compressed his lips and spread his palms significantly. "Help yourself to a biscuit, Inspector."
    Frost took one. It was stale and soggy, a perfect complement to the coffee. He hid it in his pocket to avoid giving offense, and brushed imaginary crumbs from his lips. "Scrumptious, sir. But please go on."
    "The twenty-sixth of July. A blazing hot day, clear blue sky, just the hint of a breeze. We don't seem to have days like that any more." A pause as Powell's mind traveled its long journey into the past. "I'd briefed Fawcus and Garwood and told them to get the money ready. They brought it into my office a few minutes after eleven. I locked and bolted my door, drew the blinds, doublechecked the money, then watched them pack it into the security case."
    "This would be the steel case we found chained to the skeleton's wrist?" asked Frost.
    Powell frowned at the interruption. "Of course. I personally double-locked it."
    "How many sets of keys were there?"
    "Two. I had one set, Harrington at Exley the other. I had decided they wouldn't leave in the pool car until 12:30, but as an added precaution I wouldn't inform Exley until five minutes after they had left. So I snapped the chain on Fawcus's wrist and instructed him and Garwood to wait in my office until the dot of 12:30. Then I left for my appointment."
    Frost drowned his cigarette in the coffee cup a fraction of a second before Powell pushed the ashtray over. "What appointment, sir?"
    Exasperation rippled across the old man's face. "It's in your files, man. Your chaps checked and doublechecked it at the time. I had to go to a funeral."
    "Whose funeral?"
    "Old Mrs. Kingsley's. One of our largest private accounts and a dear personal friend. If it wasn't for that I'd have stayed to see the money off, but I had to go. Before I left I tied up all the loose ends. I told our telephonist - now what was her name? A horrible woman."
    "Martha Wendle?" suggested Frost.
    "Wendle! Of course! A proper troublemaker. She was told to phone Exley five minutes after Fawcus and Gar-wood left with the money. If she had carried out my instructions it might have made some difference, but afterwards she swore black was white that I hadn't given her the message. I got back from the funeral a little after two o'clock. The first thing I did was to ask if the transfer had gone off all right. I was told by one of my clerks that they had left on the dot of 12:30, but were not yet back."
    "Were you immediately worried because they hadn't returned?"
    "No. Why should I be? They'd only been gone an hour and a half. They were