Depth of Deception (A Titanic Murder Mystery) Read Free Page A

TITANIC
     
     

    Chapter II
    Callum Toughill looked at his wristwatch as he sat in the uncomfortable chair outside of Percy Winthrope’s office. Quarter to nine. Mr. Winthrope was uncharacteristically late to his own meeting. As one of the senior brokers at the head office of Lloyd’s of London, Winthrope was always very punctual.
    " Can I get you a tea while you wait? " asked Mr. Winthrope’s new assistant. Callum had met her only once before and was now too embarrassed to ask her name again. She then corrected herself, " No wait… you prefer coffee, correct? "
    Callum smiled as he waved his hand dismissively. " No, thank you. I’ve had too much already. "
    " Now then, I’ll be gain-hand ... nearby, if you change your mind, " she said with a smile as she sat back down behind her typewriter. Callum noticed that her accent had strong traces of Yorkshire in it. Callum smiled back . H e hated lying to her but he didn’t have the heart to tell her that he didn’t like the coffee at the Lloyd’s head office. This was ironic considering that Lloyd’s of London began in the 1700’s as a coffee house catering to sailors, merchants and ship owners. To make ends meet, the founding Lloyd would set up business meetings and keep up on the latest shipping news. Now the insurance and brokering company not only had offices all over the world but their head office was overcrowded and designs for a new head office down the street were being reviewed.
    Callum rose from the back-numbing guest chair as he looked at his watch again. He hated to sit still and started to pace about the underwriter’s bullpen’s puke-green carpet. He smirked. He hoped that Winthrope would upda te the new building’s décor. It s 1960's styling was twenty years out of date. Hope they get rid of that ship too, he thought as he looked at the framed picture of the Titanic sinking. Callum winced at the sight. Like hanging a horseshoe upside down, surely it must be bad luck to have a sinking ship on display. Still, as a freelance investigator Callum understood why Winthrope wanted it there. It was a little-known fact that in 1912, a New York client sent a desperate telegraph in the middle of the night to a broker here in London to insure the RMS Titanic for £1 million. Respecting the urgency of an established client, the request was processed quickly. Later the next day, that broker learned that the Titanic had perished and that the insurance request was made as it was sinking. The portrait was there as a reminder of their folly. Callum remembered that whenever something out of the ordinary came into the office, Percy Winthrope always reminded his brokers to ‘look for icebergs.’
    As he continued to pace, Callum Toughill caught his reflection in the mirror near the coat rack. He grimaced. Time for another haircut. He liked it shaved military-style. He was still in good shape for a man in his forties, and liked wearing fitted tailored suits to show off that fact just enough. The whole appearance made him look intimidating to the people he was investigating, but deep down he took extra pride in having come a long way from the mining town in Scotland where he’d grown up. He had all but lost the brogue in his accent. Unless he got angry. Or drunk.
    " Sorry to keep you waiting, mate, " Percy said in his familiar Northern Irish accent as he entered the bullpen briskly. Percy Winthrope was one of the few men who could wear a bow tie on a regular basis and not look like a dolt. As usual his suits were as grey as his demeanor. Callum grabbed his briefcase from the floor next to the uncomfortable chair and followed Winthrope into his office. As he dropped some papers next to the ashtray on his desk, Winthrope grumbled, " Things have been chaotic around here."
    " Don’t fret it, Mr. Winthrope, " Callum said as he held out a file folder.
    " What’s that? " Winthrope asked.
    " My preliminaries on the Bolshar art claim, " replied Callum. Then, noticing the