Page 1 of Corpse in the Canal

Chapter One

“I want you to find my son,” Richard Harvey said.

Hat, the receptionist at Silver and Grey Investigations, had shown him directly into Solomon’s office without an appointment.

“Sorry, sir, ma’am,” she had murmured in her apologetic way as she dropped a visiting card on the desk, “but the gentleman says it’s urgent.”

It so happened that there was half an hour before their first appointment of the day, but even so, clients were only allowed to jump the queue for attention under particular circumstances, one of which was a missing child. So after a quick glance at the card—which proclaimed their visitor to be Mr. Richard Harvey, Channing House, Buckinghamshire—Constance invited him to sit and asked Hat to bring another cup.

Constance and Solomon, proud proprietors of Silver and Grey, had not yet had the chance to enjoy their first cup of tea of the day.

“Please, sit down,” Solomon said, rising to indicate the chair on the other side of the desk.

Richard Harvey was clearly an affluent gentleman, dressed in finely tailored clothes and shining shoes, his neatly trimmed beard and side whiskers a shade grayer than his mostly light-brown hair. Not particularly tall, he was prosperously stout. Constance had the impression he was inclined to strut when he walked, but right now, worry meant that he merely hurried across the room, his brow deeply furrowed.

Solomon offered his hand. “I’m Solomon Grey. This is my wife.”

Harvey shook hands automatically, blinking in some surprise at Constance, although he remembered his manners enough to bow to her. “Mrs. Grey.”

Constance sat and began to pour the tea. “How old is you son, sir? And when and where did you last see him?”

Harvey, in the act of sitting, blinked in clear astonishment, though she couldn’t tell if was her questions or the fact that she’d asked them that surprised him.

“He is twenty-five, madam, and I last saw him at home in Channing House on Sunday.”

Constance did not look at Solomon. She took the requested cup and saucer from Hat, who then effaced herself.

“We ask,” Solomon said smoothly, “because we would always prioritize a missing child. But unless you have some reason to suspect your adult son’s life is in danger, we have clients with prior claims upon our time.”

“His life? His life?” Harvey blustered, reddening beneath his whiskers. “I shouldn’t be surprised if it were in danger—anything is possible with That Woman.” His speech seemed to give the final words capital letters, as though they formed her name.

Harvey stirred his tea furiously, glowering. “Once she has married him, I expect she will do away with him and inherit everything I have settled upon him!”

“Is that a serious accusation?” Solomon inquired. “Or one fired by anger and anxiety?”

“Both!”

“Perhaps you had better tell us everything,” Constance suggested. “And then we can better decide if we can help you or if you would be better involving the police.”

“The police?” he spluttered, fortunately with his teacup only halfway to his lips. “I dashed well shouldn’t think so! I am a gentleman and so is my son!”

Constance, used to such attitudes toward the relatively new police force, set down her own cup and reached for her notebook. She didn’t need it, for she remembered every conversation in its entirety, but the taking of notes during initial consultation seemed to soothe most clients.

“What is your son’s name?” she asked.

“Percival Harvey. We call him Percy.”

“And he left your home on Sunday evening,” Solomon continued. “Do you know where he was going?”

“To London. He keeps rooms off Piccadilly.”

“And did he arrive there?”

“Darren, his man, says so.”

“And when did Darren last see him?”

“On Monday morning. Monday is Darren’s half day, so he went out in the afternoon. When he came back, Percy had not yet returned. On Tuesday morning, Darren noticed Percy’s bed had not been slept in. When there was still no sign of him on Wednesday morning, Darren wrote to me to see if Percy was back in Channing. Which he wasn’t. So I came up to London to find him on Thursday. Yesterday.”