Finders and Keepers (50 page)

‘I asked if I could see one earlier. Constable Porter told me that he didn't have the authority to send for one on a Sunday.' Suddenly dizzy, Harry almost fell into the chair Lloyd vacated for him.

‘Is this indicative of the treatment you mete out to people you arrest, Sergeant?' Lloyd enquired icily.

‘Constable Porter?' the sergeant shouted. The officer came running. ‘You refused to call a doctor for Mr Evans?'

‘I didn't think his injuries were serious enough to call the doctor out on a Sunday, Sergeant,' the constable muttered.

‘And how did Mr Evans come by his injuries?'

‘Mr Evans fell down the steps when I was escorting him to the cells.'

Harry gazed at Porter as coolly as someone with two black eyes and a bloody nose could. ‘I was pushed.'

‘Is that right, Constable?' the sergeant asked the officer in an ominously low voice.

‘If I touched Mr Evans it was to help him to his feet, sir.'

‘I am so sorry that I misunderstood your actions, Constable. Perhaps it was the second blow that made me warier of you than I should have been,' Harry said sarcastically.

‘Do you want to make a formal complaint, Mr Evans?' the sergeant enquired officiously.

‘I most certainly do,' Harry answered decisively. ‘If only to prevent similar accidents happening to other unfortunates on their way to the cells.'

‘You do realize that a formal complaint would mean putting a man's job on the line,' the sergeant warned.

‘Yes,' Harry replied shortly.

The sergeant saw Constable Porter still standing in the doorway. ‘That will be all, Constable.'

‘Sergeant.' The officer disappeared down the corridor. ‘However, whether you make a complaint against Constable Porter or not is immaterial to the cause of your arrest, Mr Evans.' The sergeant pulled a sheaf of papers in front of him. ‘You will appear before the magistrates tomorrow morning to answer to the charges of theft of one silver pocket watch, property of Mr Robert Pritchard, and assault on the same Mr Robert Pritchard. Both the assault and theft having taken place in the early hours on the morning of Saturday, the seventh of August at the Ellis Estate. Mr Robert Prichard has made a statement to the effect that you attacked him without provocation and hit him severely about the head when he was engaged in legitimate business on behalf of the owners of the Ellis Estate, E and G Estates. Do you have anything to say at this time, Mr Evans?'

‘Mr Robert Pritchard is the agent for E and G Estates?' Mr Richards asked.

‘Yes, they are the largest landowners in Breconshire, which makes Mr Robert Pritchard an important man in the town,' the sergeant declared. If he'd hoped to intimidate Harry, Lloyd or Mr Evans, he was disappointed.

‘You have heard of E and G Estates, Mr Richards?' Harry asked.

‘I have.'

‘Then you will probably be aware of the respect their agent commands in this town, sir,' said the sergeant. ‘Mr Pritchard doesn't simply collect rents. He sells livestock, feed, crops and the produce from Estate properties on behalf of the tenants. He is highly respected by the auctioneers and market traders, and his activities are vitally important to the commercial life of the town -'

‘We understand the gist of what you are telling us, Sergeant,' Mr Richards interrupted.

Rebuked, the sergeant addressed Harry again. ‘Do you or do you not want to comment on the charges at this time, Mr Evans?'

‘Only to say that it was Robert Pritchard who attacked me when I stopped him from assaulting Mary Ellis.'

‘That is a grave accusation for anyone to make, especially against a respected member of the community,' the sergeant said heavily. ‘I advise you to consider your position very carefully, Mr Evans. If you hope to draw attention away from the charges levelled at you by making counter-accusations of a more serious nature against Mr Pritchard or Constable Porter, your ploy could backfire with adverse and severe consequences for yourself.'

‘I suggest you contact Mary Ellis, who will verify my version of the events of that night.'

‘According to Constable Porter's report, Mary Ellis is a moral degenerate who has been placed in the workhouse.'

‘She is no more degenerate than any other respectable, family-loving woman I know,' Harry countered angrily, ‘and the last place she and her family should be is a workhouse.'

‘I can see that we are not going to make any progress this morning, Mr Evans.' The sergeant pushed a piece of paper in front of Lloyd. ‘Will you sign this assurance that your son will appear before the magistrates tomorrow morning at nine o'clock? And that he will not leave town before then?'

‘I have taken a suite at the Castle Hotel; we will be there until this matter is cleared up,' Lloyd pulled a fountain pen from his top pocket and scribbled his signature at the bottom of the form, ‘speedily, I trust. I have urgent parliamentary business to attend to.'

Mr Richards took Harry's arm as he left his seat. ‘We'll call for a doctor as soon as we reach the hotel.'

‘I'm sorry to put you to all this trouble.' Harry was touched by the old man's concern. Given Mr Richards's age and frailty, he felt that he should be the one assisting him.

‘I have a feeling that you are going to be sorrier still before the day is out,' Mr Richards commented enigmatically. ‘Your father and I took a taxi from the station, and asked the driver to wait. Looking at you, I think it is just as well that we did.'

‘There is something that I have to do before I leave.' Harry went to the desk. ‘Constable Smith, my property, if you please. And I recall exactly what I had when I came in here.'

‘You may have problems breathing through your nose for a while, young man, and your bruises could inspire another verse of
“Two Lovely Black Eyes”,
but you'll live to fight another day.' The doctor closed his bag and reached for his coat.

‘I hope not, Doctor,' Lloyd left his chair. ‘I think my son's done enough fighting in the last week to last him a year or two.'

Harry shook the doctor's hand. ‘Thank you, I feel better already.'

‘These may help.' The doctor placed a bottle of pills on the table. ‘If the pain gets too much, you can take two with water, but not more than every four hours. On the other hand, should you prefer to imbibe, a glass of brandy would probably have the same effect.'

‘I'll see you out and pay your bill, Doctor.' Lloyd shrugged on his coat. ‘I'll meet you in the bar, Mr Richards; we'll have a quick one before lunch. I promised Sali I would telephone to let her and the girls know what was happening. You have no idea of the worry you have caused, Harry.'

‘I'd argue with you there, Dad.'

‘Brandy or pills, Harry?' Mr Richards asked after Lloyd left the hotel suite with the doctor.

‘Brandy.' Harry tried to smile but every muscle in his face hurt and his nose felt numb and stiff.

‘Then let's go downstairs. Given the state of your jacket, it will have to be the “Gentlemen only”. They won't mind you sitting in shirt-sleeves. I'm glad we have these few minutes to ourselves, there's something that I want to talk to you about.'

Harry knew better than to hurry the old man, and Mr Richards waited until they were comfortably settled in the bar with two double brandies in front of them before broaching the subject again.

‘Your father was telling me on the journey here that you may not go to Paris after all.'

‘It is a possibility.' Harry sat back and savoured the sensation of warming brandy hitting his empty stomach.

‘But you're not sure about running the businesses that you have inherited.'

‘No, I'm not.' Harry stared into his brandy glass. ‘I told Dad that I would think about it, but with everything that's been happening I haven't had time.'

‘Cigar?' Mr Richards opened his cigar case and offered Harry one. They were thin and black, his favourite small Havanas.

‘Thank you, but I'd prefer to have one after the meal if I may. I feel light-headed enough after the brandy.'

‘I should imagine you do, given your injuries. Tell me, do you have an opinion on E and G Estates?'

‘They are a disgrace to the name of the landlord, and whoever owns it should be ashamed of themselves for employing an agent like Robert Pritchard and not monitoring his activities,' he said heatedly. ‘They have caused untold misery to dozens if not a hundred or more families around here. They handed their agent the power and the means to assault and thieve from helpless people, and all in the name of profit.'

‘Unfortunately, I agree with you, Harry.'

‘Why unfortunately?' Harry asked suspiciously.

Mr Richards met Harry's eye. ‘E and G Estates was set up by Edyth and Gwilym James, You own it.'

‘I …' Harry stammered into silence, barely able to comprehend the gravity of what Mr Richards had told him. He thought of all the lectures Lloyd had given him on the responsibilities of wealth and being an employer. How families depended on the wages his companies paid their breadwinners. And how tiresome he had found them. And now … ‘Does anyone else know I own it?' he croaked, hoarse with shock.

‘The entire board and the trustees who work in the Capital and Counties Bank, and my office, which is nominally in charge of the firm.'

‘My father?' Harry asked.

‘You know that he has deliberately distanced himself from the day-to-day running of your businesses and your money.'

‘I wish he hadn't,' Harry said feelingly.

‘So he could have done what you should have?' Mr Richards questioned. ‘If he had spent his time overseeing your estate, Harry, he wouldn't have been able to stand as an MP or work for the miners' unions.'

Harry recalled the pocket watch he had found. ‘Robert Pritchard has been working for E and G Estates for over ten years. He was given his job when I was still in school.'

‘And in short trousers,' Mr Richards said. ‘No one can blame you for hiring him then, Harry.'

‘I
can blame myself for not finding out about him since. Did you know that the estate sold the farms to the tenant farmers in 1919, only to buy them back for half the price they paid for them when the slump came and the banks that held their mortgages foreclosed?'

‘Yes.'

‘And you did nothing to stop it!'

‘Harry, I am your mother's adviser and solicitor. I am not and never have been one of your trustees. And even if I had been, and had seen fit to question what E and G Estates were doing on moral grounds, the bankers would have reminded me that someone had to buy up the bankrupt farms, so why not E and G Estates? They would have also shown me a balance sheet to prove that your money was doing exactly what money should – making more money. You may not be aware of it but you are a millionaire, Harry. I doubt there are more than ten in Wales.'

‘But my mother, Uncle Joey, they are on the board -'

‘And they know everything there is to know about Gwilym James the department stores. They have ensured that all six are managed the way ideal businesses should be, with profit, customers and – very importantly – employees in mind. The staff are treated fairly and paid well in return for hard work. The conditions and contracts of employments are excellent, and the side benefits of paid holidays, medical care, subsidized canteens and retirement pensions among the best in Britain. All of that is down to your mother and uncle. But they only oversee the stores. E and G Estates is the province of the bankers and solicitors on the board.'

‘And they don't care how they make their money?' Harry asked furiously.

‘Your
money, Harry,' Mr Richards corrected. ‘And in answer to your question, all they care about is doing their job to the best of their ability, making their employer rich and seeing a balance sheet in the black at the end of the year.'

‘As if all I care about is money,' Harry declared bitterly.

‘Now that you know about the situation, you can put it right.'

‘It's too late for the Ellises and all the other families who have been broken up and dispersed in workhouses.'

‘Is it, Harry?' Mr Richards said.

Harry glanced up as Lloyd entered the bar. ‘Dad, what's wrong?'

White-faced, Lloyd sank down on to the chair next to Harry's. ‘Craig-y-Nos telephoned the house this morning when they couldn't get through to you at the inn. Dad …'

Harry gripped his father's hand. ‘I should have been there.'

‘He died in his sleep, Harry, in the early hours. Doctor Adams told your mother that the end was quiet and peaceful. He never woke. It was what he wanted. We have to comfort ourselves with that thought.'

The next hour passed in a flurry of activity and telephone calls. Lloyd telephoned his brothers and agreed to meet them at the sanatorium so they could make arrangements to accompany their father's body back to Pontypridd.

Mr Richards contacted the senior staff in his office – judging by the sharp words he exchanged with them, they weren't happy at being disturbed on a Sunday – but they arranged for a clerk to bring all the papers he could find pertaining to E and G Estates on the first available train to Brecon.

Lloyd checked the time of the next train to Craig-y-Nos, and discovered he had time for lunch with Harry and Mr Richards, but none of them had much appetite, not even Harry who hadn't eaten for twenty-four hours. And they were all relieved when the taxi arrived to take Lloyd to the station.

‘I only wish I could go with you,' Harry said, when he and Mr Richards accompanied Lloyd on to the platform.

‘And I wish that I could stay here with you.'

‘Don't worry about him, Lloyd. He won't be returning to any police cells,' Mr Richards stated confidently.

‘Joey and Victor and I won't have anything to do other than make the necessary arrangements with the undertaker, and it won't take three of us to do that. If you did come you'd just be sitting around the inn with us, Harry.' Lloyd picked up his overnight case when the train drew in.