‘That would be marvellous, thank you, Roger. A sherry, please. Make it two, for I am sure Mr Stratford will not have me drink alone. Is he available? I have a matter of some importance to discuss.’

Roger took Pelham’s coat and hung it on a stand, ushering him through to the back of the counter area at the same time. ‘I shall inform Mr Stratford that you are here, sir. I am sure he will receive you straight away.’

‘Good man!’ Pelham patted a little more dust from his clothing and watched the clerk’s back as he practically ran towards a side door and gave a discreet knock.

‘Mr Pelham to see you, sir.’

‘Show him through, man. Show him through,’ a voice bellowed.

Roger beckoned Pelham to the office and gestured him through the doorway. ‘I shall see to those sherries right away, sir.’

A rotund man stood from behind the desk in the office and waddled towards Pelham, his hand held out. ‘Henry! What an unexpected surprise.’

‘Hello, Richard. How are Amelia and the children?’ Pelham shook the offered hand.

‘Oh, they are fine, fine.’ Stratford beckoned for him to sit. ‘I trust Mavis and your boys are well?’

‘Ticking along just nicely.’

‘Is she with you? Roger hasn’t left her in the outer office? I’ll tan his hide if he—’ He cut off as Pelham waved a hand to quiet his concerns.

‘No, she’s not with me. I came alone. Rather urgently, I might add. I have a matter of some importance to discuss.’

‘Intriguing. You must tell me.’

A knock sounded at the door and Roger entered bearing a tray with two glasses of sherry. He served them to Pelham and Stratford. ‘Will that be all, sir?’

‘Yes, yes.’ Stratford waved him towards the door. ‘Close it on your way out. There’s a good chap.’ He waited until the door snibbed closed before turning to Pelham. ‘Now, Henry? What do you wish to discuss?’

Pelham sipped his sherry and let the warmth settle into the pit of his stomach before speaking. ‘There has been somewhat of a tragedy near my property above the Coliban River.’

‘Goodness, Henry. Whatever has happened?’

‘To put it rather bluntly, Richard, murder has happened.’

‘Murder!’ Stratford’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. ‘Anyone I know?’

‘Well, actually yes. Two of the bank’s debtors. Mr Sean O’Rourke and his wife Ellen.’

‘O’Rourke? O’Rourke?’ His eyes searched the ceiling. ‘Name doesn’t ring a bell.’ He walked to the door, opened it and bellowed, ‘Roger? Bring me the file pertaining to—’ He looked at Pelham for confirmation, ‘Sean O’Rourke?’

‘That’s the chap,’ Pelham confirmed.