Smallbone Deceased

“What do you want to know?” said John. “The vendor, if my memory serves me, was one Daniel Jedd. The purchaser, a Major Wright. If you’re passionately interested I’ll get out the file. Here you are. It was quite a straightforward title. Indeed, I suspect that’s why Abel gave it to me as a first effort. It started with—yes—three straight conveyances. The first in 1880. Another in 1901 and the third to Ezekiel Jedd in 1920. He settled it by his will and died in 1925. Then there’s a vesting deed—vesting it in his son Amos as life tenant. Amos died in 1935. Another vesting deed, in Daniel Jedd, who, without further ado, barred his entail and sold as absolute owner in 1938. Bob’s your uncle.”

“And it was the same property all the way through. All the way from 1880 onwards, I mean.”

“To the last blade of grass.”

“Then,” said Bohun, “why weren’t the first three conveyances handed over when it was finally sold out of this office?”

“Yes, I remember. Abel did say something about that. I can’t remember what. The root of title we offered was the 1926 vesting deed.”

“That was all right as far as it went,” said Henry. “But you’d have thought that the earlier deeds would have been handed over too, or else”—he pointed to the draft conveyance—“the usual acknowledgment given for their safe custody.”

“Now that you mention it, that does seem a bit odd. Are you absolutely certain they weren’t handed over?”

“Absolutely. The conveyances of 1880, 1901 and 1920 were never marked out of the deeds register here at all. And look—here’s a copy of the schedule. It starts with the vesting deed of 1926.”

“So it does,” said John, scratching his head. “Why do you suppose Abel wanted to keep the early deeds—he never struck me as the type who would go in for home-made lamp shades.”

“I don’t think he kept them for lamp shades,” said Bohun slowly. “I think—oh, that’s probably for me. Hullo. Yes, Bohun speaking.”

“We’ve traced that bank account,” said Hazlerigg’s voice. “In view of what you told me early this morning I thought you might find it interesting. The quarterly payments were made to the Husbandmen’s League Friendly and Loan Society. Their office is in Lombard Street.”

“Fine,” said Bohun. “I’ll go straight along.”

“I take it that hunch you had is working out then.”

“Very nicely.”

“Keep me posted,” said Hazlerigg, and rang off.

“What’s it all about?” said John.

“My idea, roughly,” said Bohun, “is that Abel Horniman forged a set of title deeds. Well—not forged, really. That’s the wrong word. He effected a little rearrangement. Something after this style. I think he got hold of three solid-looking and obviously genuine conveyances—just for the sake of argument let’s say the three first conveyances of Longleaf Farm, that we’ve just been talking about. Those particular ones were very suitable because they hadn’t got a plan on them—just a description. I think he took the last one—the 1920 conveyance, the one to Ezekiel Jedd, removed the last page, and sewed in a new one that he’d written out himself, in law script—that was the sort of thing he did rather well, wasn’t it?”

“Oh, yes. He wrote a beautiful copperplate. The perfect practical conveyancer.”

“It stuck in my mind that Mr. Birley said something of the sort at the firm’s dinner. Well, I think the page he faked up had a plan on it. Furthermore, and here I’m guessing again, I think it was a plan of Abel’s own farm—Crookham Court Farm. Then all he had to do was to draw up a conveyance purporting to be by Ezekiel Jedd to himself—again with a plan of Crookham Court Farm—perfectly open and above board—take it down to the Stamp Office and have it stamped, and there you are.”

“It sounds like falling off a log,” said John, “but—I may be being stupid—why did he want a second set of title deeds to Crookham Court Farm? He must have acquired a perfectly good set when he bought the place in 1936.”

“Well,” said Henry. “He had to hand over the real deeds to the National Provincial Bank when he mortgaged his farm to them, way back in 1937. Don’t you think a spare set must have been quite useful when he wanted to raise the wind again in 1943?”

“Viewed in that light,” agreed John, “a chap could hardly have too many sets of title deeds. Where are you going?”

“Down to the Husbandmen’s League to make sure. Coming?”

“Might as well,” said John. “I can see that I shan’t be allowed to concentrate on my Final until everything has been cleared up in Chapter Sixteen. How did you get on to this particular swindle?”

“It’s known as the cuff-link trick,” said Bohun. “If we run we shall just get that bus. You pawn one cuff link twice. I started to have it explained to me by an expert last night.”

II