Wiliam Monk 01 - The Face of a Stranger

than the barest comfort now. It has cost two lives already. Was there much of your own money lost, Mr. Marner?"
    "Much of mine?" Marner looked startled.
    "I understand Major Grey lost a considerable sum?"
    "Oh—no. No, you are misinformed." Marner shook his head and his white hair bounced over his ears. "The company did not precisely fail. Oh dear me no. It simply transferred its operation; it was taken over. If you are not a man of affairs, you could not be expected to understand. Business is highly complicated these days, Mr. Monk."
    "It would seem so. And you say Major Grey did not lose a great deal of his own money? Can you substantiate that in any way?"
    "I could, of course." The smug veils came over Mar-ner's eyes again. "But Major Grey's affairs are his own, of course, and I should not discuss his affairs with you, any more than I should dream of discussing yours with him. The essence of good business is discretion, sir." He smiled, pleased with himself, his composure at least in part regained.
    "Naturally," Monk agreed. "But I am from the police, and am investigating Major Grey's murder, therefore I am in a different category from the merely inquisitive." He lowered his voice and it became peculiarly menacing. He saw Marner's face tighten. "And as a law-abiding man," he continued, "I am sure you will be only too happy to give me every assistance you can. I should like to see your records in the matter. Precisely how much did Major Grey lose, Mr. Marner, to the guinea, if you please?"
    Marner's chin came up sharply; his eyes were hot and offended.
    "The police? You said you wanted to make an investment. ''
    "No, I did not say that—you assumed it. How much did Joscelin Grey lose, Mr. Marner?"
    "Oh, well, to the guinea, Mr. Monk, he—he did not lose any."
    "But the company dissolved."
    "Yes—yes, that is true; it was most unfortunate. But Major Grey withdrew his own investment at the last moment, just before the—the takeover."
    Monk remembered the policeman from whom he had learned Marner's address. If he had been after Marner for years, let him have the satisfaction of taking him now.
    "Oh." Monk sat back, altering his whole attitude, almost smiling. "So he was not really concerned in the loss?"
    "No, not at all."
    Monk stood up.
    "Then it hardly constitutes a part of his murder. I'm sorry to have wasted your time, Mr. Marner. And I thank you for your cooperation. You do, of course, have some papers to prove this, just for my superiors?"
    "Yes. Yes, I have." Marner relaxed visibly. "If you care to wait for a moment—" He stood up from his desk and went to a large cabinet of files. He pulled a drawer and took out a small notebook ruled in ledger fashion. He put it, open, on the desk in front of Monk.
    Monk picked it up, glanced at it, read the entry where Grey had withdrawn his money, and snapped it shut.
    "Thank you." He put the book in the inside pocket of his coat and stood up.
    Marner's hand came forward for the return of the book. He realized he was not going to get it, debated in his mind whether to demand it or not, and decided it would raise more interest in the subject than he could yet afford t He forced a smile, a sickly thing in his great white face.
    "Always happy to be of service, sir. Where should we be without the police? So much crime these days, so much violence."
    "Indeed," Monk agreed. "And so much theft that breeds violence. Good day, Mr. Marner."
    Outside he walked briskly along Gun Lane and back towards the West India Dock Road, but he was thinking hard. If this evidence was correct, and not fiddled with by Zebedee Marner, then the hitherto relatively honest Jos-celin Grey had almost certainly been forewarned in time to escape at the last moment himself, leaving Latterly and his friends to bear the loss. Dishonest, but not precisely illegal. It would be interesting to know who had shares in the company that took over the tobacco importing, and if Grey was one of them.
    Had he uncovered this much before? Marner had shown
    no signs of recognition. He had behaved as if the whole question were entirely new to him. In fact it must be, or Monk would never have been able to deceive him into imagining him an investor.
    But even if Zebedee Marner had never seen him before, it was not impossible he had known all this before Grey's death, because then he had had his memory, known his contacts, who to ask, who to bribe, who could be threatened, and with what.
    But there was no way yet to find