Chapter 14

Chatsworth sent an agent to the home of a Mr. Howard Smith. Mr. Smith was the clerk who handled the paperwork in both Phileas's and Rebecca's dealings with Isaac Jordan. They would meet at a location other than Whitehall. There were several such offices around London for the Service's use. That way, anyone following could not guess who the man was meeting. The clerk had no police record or employment problems. Mr. Smith's previous employers called him an excellent, studious detail man.

Either Mr. Smith had become detail oriented enough to forge documents at his new place of employment, or he was a hapless assistant to a con artist. Sir Jonathan needed to know which. His plan was to get the use of the man's eyes and ears inside Jordan's office. He planned to get that through voluntary cooperation or coercion, but in either case, he was going to get it. What had nearly happened to Rebecca could not be allowed again.

The sound of the outer door opening brought Chatsworth to attention. The agent who he had sent after the clerk walked into the office, deposited his charge in the only chair available in front of the office desk and stood at the man's shoulder close to his back.

Mr. Smith was a balding, gray old man with spectacles and a squint. He had a grandfatherly countenance and appeared curious about this interview, but not worried. His suit was slightly out of fashion, and his shoes were worn but polished. The old clerk looked at Chatsworth forthrightly, a trifle askance, but without complaint.

"Mr. Howard Smith," Chatsworth said. "You work with Mr. Jordan of Jordan and Howell Inc.? You clerk for him, do you not?"

The old man nodded his head and said yes, a bit off tone and high.

So, he is nervous. Good, he needs to be.

"Did you handle paperwork setting up accounts for Mr. David Peterson, Mr. George Simons, Mr. Paul Sellers, and, more recently, Miss Rebecca Fogg?"

The man seemed to calm. "Yes sir, I did," he said with confidence. "Those are all accounts I have and maintain for the firm, except for Miss Fogg. She has no account with our firm."

"The businesses these accounts represent," Chatsworth stated, "are presently being investigated for fraud and treason against the crown; including a very real account involving Miss Fogg." He let his voice rise and grow harder with every word. The old man looked surprised, but not upset or fearful.

Sir Jonathan had been expecting more of a reaction, so he continued keeping a hard edge to his voice to reiterate the seriousness of the charges. "We believe you may be involved in the crimes under investigation."

That got a reaction. The man raised his chin in defiance. "I challenge you to prove such an allegation. The accounts you mentioned are handled by me and have been since their inception. They are all strong and profitable. The clients have nothing to be concerned about; and you are mistaken. Miss Fogg has no account with our firm."

The man's confidence surprised Chatsworth. His insisted assertion was a bald-faced lie of grand proportions. Rebecca's account transfer had been accomplished. As for the others, Mrs. Simons, at least, was a stockbroker's widow. She knew what a ledger looked like and how to read one. When pushed to accept and admit what had happened to her, she had said she had been shown a deficit in her husband's account, explained as a debt to the firm for a high-risk investment. It had still been in deficit when Jordan had forgiven it after her tenure as his mistress. It was supposed to have been closed ten months ago.

"Mr. Simon's account is active?" Sir Jonathan said directly?

"Indeed, sir, it is," the old clerk stated. "So are the other ones you mentioned. Oh, all except for the Sellers account. The gentleman came into the office and closed his account in person. There was some personal disagreement between Mr. Sellers and Mr. Jordan. I never know about what."

Chatsworth changed gears. He pulled out his copies of the forged papers Rebecca had been given to sign. "Did you prepare these papers, sir?"

He took the stack of documents, held them close, squinting, and then pulled a pair of glasses from his coat. He went through the pages twice and set them back down on the desk before Chatsworth. "No sir," he said. "I did not transcribe these papers and they cannot be part of Miss Fogg's business with us. Miss Fogg only came to the offices to make a character reference for the benefit of a young inventor from France who Mr. Jordan is backing. These papers are forgeries. There is no such account. The gentleman whose name is also part of these papers also provided a character reference. Neither Fogg has an account with our firm."

"Then sir," Sir Jonathan continued with force, "how do you explain this?"

He put the papers verifying the transfer of funds the Secret Service had sent in Rebecca's name to the accounting firm. The man looked at it as well and then looked back at his inquisitor.

"I, sir, set up all new accounts," he said. "If there is a new account at the firm, it must have been set up by Mr. Jordan himself, which would be highly irregular. The lady has not come back to our offices since the first meeting she had with Mr. Jordan and me. As such, there can be no account set up by him, as these papers would have had to be signed and validated in the office and given to me to prepare for maintenance."

Sir Jonathan sat back. The old man in front of him seemed genuinely confident of what he was saying. He spoke in clear, even tones and a firm voice for such a frail-looking clerk. Chatsworth thought for a moment and tried again.

"Sir, Mrs. Peterson and Mrs. Simons have both been told by Mr. Jordan directly that their deceased husband's accounts were empty. He told both ladies that they were indebted to his firm by tens of thousands of pounds. Both women sold their homes and possessions to repay the debt. Are you sitting here saying that Mr. Jordan lied to these women? That their funds are still intact and growing?"

Now the man seemed to get the idea. Mr. Smith looked shocked and very troubled.

"Mr. Sellers, you say, came into the offices and removed his funds. According to Mr. Jordan, the man's account had also been indebted to the firm as well. The man's niece gave Mr. Jordan her dowry to repay part of it. How could he have withdrawn on an empty account?"

"Sir, I was in the office when the gentleman came to check the status of his funds," the clerk said. "I am the one that verified is account status. I was also the one that gave him his funds in cash by his request. We normally do that by draft, but he insisted that it be cash. He has not been in the offices since. I know nothing of this niece or anything that Mr. Jordan may have told her directly."

Sir Jonathan deduced that to be the reason Sellers refused to cooperate. Had he discovered the fraud and regained his funds, possibly the young ladies as well on a day Jordan had been out of the office?

"Was Mr. Jordan in the offices on the day Mr. Sellers did his transaction?"

"No, Mr. Jordan was in the country with business associates," the clerk said.

"One more question," Chatsworth said. "Do you have an account for a Mr. Robert McTavish?"

That took the old man back a bit. He looked over Chatsworth's shoulder as he considered his answer, as though looking over files in his mind. "There is an investment account by that name," Mr. Smith said, with less certainty. "I have seen nothing on it in over two years. It may be dormant, growing on its own. Sometimes that happens when an account reaches a certain level. It grows on its own at such a rate that the client no longer adds capital."

Chatsworth considered that. The year Robert had died; Katrina had made four large payments to Jordan at the sale of assets. After that, her payments had been less than five pounds a month, pocket change to a man like Isaac Jordan. Had he indeed pocketed those payments after setting up an investment for himself?

"Sir," Chatsworth said, "there appears to be very serious improprieties going on in your firm. I tell you again, the two ladies I mentioned were told that their husband's accounts were in debt. Mr. Seller's niece was told the same thing about her uncle's account during his absence. These papers concerning Miss Fogg were sent from your offices to the offices of her family's man of business to execute. The investment account you say that may exist in the name of Robert McTavish would have been set up for a dead man; a dead man whose widow has been extorted of her income for over two years. These in and of themselves are very serious charges, as you know. But other charges include extortion, coercion, and extorting insider information, and acts against the crown." Sir Jonathan did not choose to mention ravishment and forced favors. This man did not seem to have an ounce of deceit in him.

Sir Jonathan had expected to coerce a guilty accomplice into informing on his boss. What Chatsworth had was a completely innocent employee who might provide him hard evidence of fraud. Sir Jonathan was just about to ask for the man's help, but was beaten to it.

"Sir, I have made a life's work of handling business affairs in the most respectful and conscientious manner. I deal with people's hopes of a comfortable old age, children's trusts, and widow's pensions. If what you are saying is happening, I may work for the blackest of blackguards. Please, let me be of service in discovering this matter? What would you have me do to help you?"

Chatsworth smiled and thanked him from the bottom of his heart.