But, frankly, to me Miss Daphne Wrayne is the most amazing part of this amazing firm. It is well-nigh impossible to believe that this singularly lovely girl, barely out of her teens, who looks as if she had just stepped out of a Bond Street modiste’s, is really in control of an enterprise of this kind. I say “in control” for even if she is not, she is, on her own statement, the only one whom the public will see, and behind the very up-to-date exterior, with its dainty Paris frock, silk stockings, etc., there is obviously a brain out of the ordinary.
I was bewildered at the rapidity with which this pretty, laughing-eyed schoolgirl who smoked cigarettes and used slang, changed into an earnest young woman, with the criminal life of London at her slim fingers’ ends.
I came away from Conduit Street trying to tell myself that it was foolish, impossible, ridiculous. And yet there is Miss Wrayne herself. I can still see those clear hazel eyes of hers, and hear her final words: “Is it so strange that some who have unlimited money and brains should want to help their less fortunate brethren?”
One week later, when Sir John Colston – the interview had been arranged that morning by telephone – was ushered into Daphne’s private room, he was conscious of a slight sense of annoyance. To, discover that he, Sir John Colston, the head of one of the biggest banks in London, had to lay his difficulties at the slim feet of a lovely, hazel-eyed girl hardly out of her teens – a girl who coolly waved him to a chair as she lighted another cigarette – it was almost preposterous!
“Well, Sir John, what can we do for you?”
Just as if he were nobody and his affair a trivial matter!
“I understand from the Duchess of-” he began stiffly, but Daphne Wrayne’s eyes narrowed a little as she cut in on him.
“I know, and you’re surprised at finding me so young.” She leant forward suddenly in her chair. “Forgive me for saying so, but you’re a little behind the times. You are obviously in trouble or you wouldn’t be here. If you want my services they are at your disposal. But in that case it will be very much better, both for you and for me, if you will forget that I am a girl and not yet twenty-one. You will excuse my plain speaking, won’t you?”
A little smile curved her lips, but her eyes were steady on his.
“You’re not the first, you know, Sir John,” she went on. “It’s a bit of a handicap sometimes, being a girl!”
His resentment vanished from that moment. Her ingenuousness disarmed him.
“I’m sorry, Miss Wrayne,” he said. “I’m an old man – a bit old-fashioned, I’m afraid, too. You – this place-” he waved a hand “rather took me by surprise.”
“Of course-” sweetly. “Now, let’s get to business. You, I take it, are the head of the Universal Banking Corporation of Lombard Street?”
“I am. I have a client of the name of Richard Henry Gorleston.”
“The bookmaker?”
“I begin to see that what the Duchess told me about you was true,” he smiled. He was becoming more impressed now every minute.
“I have a good memory for names,” she replied.
“He has been a client of mine for nearly three years. His father, I may tell you, left him fifty thousand pounds. The son has banked with us ever since, and until this week has been a trusted client.
“I must tell you,” he went on, “that ever since he opened an account with us it has been his habit to draw out large sums of money in notes and to replace them within a few days. He told me from the start that he lived by gambling.
“On numerous occasions he has presented checks for five or ten thousand pounds, and drawn the money out in notes. Then a few days later he would come and pay it all back, perhaps a little more, perhaps a little less.
“Ten days ago he called at the bank and came into my private room – nothing unusual in that, though. He often does. Now, the moment he came in I noticed that he was wearing horn-rimmed spectacles, a thing which he has never done before. I commented on it and he said that he’d had trouble with his eyes, and had been to an oculist.”
“Mention his name?” casually.
“He did. James Adwinter, of Queen Anne Street.”
Daphne Wrayne made a note of it.
“Please go on, Sir John.”
“I asked him if he was drawing out any money and he said he was – would I tell him what his balance was. I sent out and found it was about thirty thousand pounds. In front of me he took his check-book and wrote a check for twenty-five thousand pounds. I sent for one of my cashiers and we paid it over to him in thousand pound notes. Now comes the amazing part of the story. Two days ago he came into the bank and presented a check for fifteen thousand pounds. The cashier told him he hadn’t got it, and reminded him of the twenty-five-thousand-pound one. He indignantly denied it – said he’d been out of town for nearly a fortnight, and he could prove it. Declared that some one must have impersonated him. This morning we received a letter from his solicitors threatening us with an action.”
“But the signature, Sir John? If it was Richard Henry Gorleston’s usual signature with no irregularity-”
“That’s the trouble, Miss Wrayne. This-” handing her a check “-is his usual signature. This-” handing her another-“is the disputed check.”
Daphne Wrayne’s eyebrows went up as she scanned it.
“How did you come to pass this check without comment?” she queried. “The difference is not very great, I admit, but still-”
“Miss Wrayne, I put it to you! You have an old client whom you know well. He comes in, sits down and talks to you, writes out a check. You send for your cashier who knows him equally well. You’ve seen him write the check. You’re satisfied. You cash it without question.”
“Oh, I know. But will the law exonerate you?”
“I’m afraid it won’t,” a little ruefully.
“Tell me, Sir John-” after a slight pause “-had you any shadow of doubt when this man presented that twenty-five-thousand-pound check but that he was Richard Gorleston?”
“Not the faintest, Miss Wrayne.”
“When he came in two days ago was he wearing spectacles?”
“He wasn’t. He said he’d never worn them in his life, and never heard of Adwinter.”
“What was his manner like?”
“Oh, he was naturally very upset, but he quite appreciated our position, though he said, of course, that we should have noticed the difference in the signature. He went on to say that he’d known for some time that he had a ”double,“ but he’d never been able to run him to earth.”
The girl wrinkled her forehead thoughtfully.
“He told you he’d been out of London all the time. Did he say where?”
“Yes. He gave me his address. ”The Golden Crown, Portworth, Tavistock“ – trout fishing. Incidentally I have verified this by one of our local branches. He was there the whole time.”
“Well, Sir John, in about a week’s time I’ll report to you. In the meanwhile say nothing to anybody.”
“What am I to tell my solicitors to do?” a little perplexedly.
She laughed merrily.
“Oh, come, Sir John, you don’t want to throw in your hand yet! Instruct ”em to say that you repudiate all liability. After all, if you have to climb down – still, let’s hope you won’t!“