You've Heard of The Maltese Falcon - well...

This isn't it, but the style is...Picking up where David Snowdon left off yesterday with Payment From Heaven...

“Detective Sergeant Cliff Wheeldon,” said the man, flashing his police warrant card. “And this is my colleague, Detective Sergeant Paul Jefferies. We’re from the Epsom police station, and we’d like to speak to you about a certain matter. Can we come in?”

He spoke with a London accent.

“What’s it regarding?” said Dangerfield, frowning at him.

“Can we come in?” said Wheeldon, repeating the question.

“If you insist,” said Dangerfield, reluctantly letting them in after hesitating.

“This is my wife,” he said, as he led them into the well-furnished, living-room.
Suzi Dangerfield was standing around in the living-room, a curious expression on her face as she watched the police officers follow her husband into the living-room.

“Hello, Mrs Dangerfield,” said Wheeldon, as Jefferies nodded at her.

“Hello,” said Suzi.

“They’re from the Epsom police station,” said Dangerfield.

Suzi nodded understandingly as she looked from one officer to the other.
“What can I do for you?” said Dangerfield, staring at Wheeldon as they all stood around in the living-room.

“Sorry to disturb you, sir,” said Wheeldon, realising that Dangerfield hadn’t offered them a seat, and from the look of things, he wasn’t going to. “It’s regarding a certain matter. We received a phone call from your bank manager, who was very concerned that you suddenly withdrew £100,000 with two hours notice today.”

“So?” said Dangerfield, frowning at him.

“It’s very unusual to withdraw that kind of money at such short notice, Mr Dangerfield,” said Wheeldon. “Why did you withdraw the money?”

Dangerfield stared at him.
“I needed it for a business deal.”

“We thought you were being blackmailed,” said Wheeldon.

Dangerfield laughed as he stared at him.
“What could have given you that impression, Officer?”

“Just a hunch,” said Wheeldon, shrugging his shoulders.

“Well I’ve got some advice for you,” said Dangerfield. “Don’t jump to conclusions, Officer. It doesn’t pay.”

“What business deal was that, Mr Dangerfield?” said Jefferies, speaking for the first time.

“Don’t be impertinent, Officer,” snapped Dangerfield, his eyes flashing with anger. “That’s none of your business.”

The two police officers stared at him.
Wheeldon had a feeling that Dangerfield was hiding something.
“Sorry to turn up like this,” said Wheeldon, after a pause. “We called the office earlier, and we were told that you had left for the day.”

“Next time I’d prefer a phone call,” said Dangerfield. “Please don’t turn up like this again.”

“We can’t always call,” said Wheeldon. “Sometimes, we have to show up. Your bank manager was right to call us and we had to act on the information.”

“If there’s nothing else,” said Dangerfield, “I’ve got to go. I’m very busy.”
“Thanks for your time,” said Wheeldon.

“You’re very welcome,” said Dangerfield.
Dangerfield followed the officers towards the door, while Suzi watched them leave.
“Thanks for calling in,” said Dangerfield, as the two police officers walked out of the front door into the sunshine.

“Have a good day,” said Wheeldon.

Dangerfield closed the door behind them and returned to the living-room. As he entered the living-room, seething with anger, his wife stared at him.
“That bloody bank manager,” snapped Dangerfield, as he went towards the phone. “I’m going to give him a piece of my mind.”

Dangerfield reached the phone, grabbed it and dialled a number.
As he waited, he heard the phone ringing at the other end. It rang a few times, then someone answered the phone.

“Lakeside bank,” said a young female voice at the other end.

“I’d like to speak to the manager,” said Dangerfield. “Cyril Klawitter, please.”

“Mr Klawitter’s in a meeting,” said the girl. “Can I take a message, sir?”

“I don’t care if he’s in a meeting with the board of directors,” snapped Dangerfield. “It’s urgent. Can you get him?”

“May I know who’s calling?” said the girl.

“It’s John Dangerfield.”

“Hold the line, sir.”

There was a moments delay, then Klawitter was on the line.
“Cyril Klawitter.”

“Cyril, it’s John Dangerfield.”

“Hello, John,” said Klawitter breezily. “How’s it going?”

“That was very unprofessional, Cyril,” snapped Dangerfield. “Why did you call the police?”

“I was concerned,” said Klawitter defensively. “I thought you were being blackmailed, John.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” said Dangerfield angrily. “And how about client confidentiality? Doesn’t that count for anything?”

“I consider you to be a friend, John,” said Klawitter.

“If this happens again,” said Dangerfield, cutting him short, “you will lose the account.”

And he ended the call.

“That Cyril Klawitter’s an idiot,” said Dangerfield, as he dropped the receiver and stared at his wife.

“Maybe we should go to the police,” said Suzi, staring at him with frightened eyes. “He’s our only child, John.”

(to be continued) be sure to join us tomorrow for more of this twisted tale.
http://www.mind-of-a-genius.com