The Religious Body by Catherine Aird Page A

for it.”
    â€œThe family still manage it?”
    â€œLord, yes. Harold Cartwright’s the M.D. Knows the business backwards. Learned it the hard way, I should say. Let me see now, I think there are two sons and a daughter. That’s right. The daughter married well. Iron ore, I think it was. The boys went to a good school and an even better university. The elder boy had a year at Harvard to see what our American cousins could teach him about business, and the younger one a year on the Rand.”
    â€œYou know a lot about them off the cuff.”
    â€œOne of the largest private companies in the country, Inspector, that’s why,” retorted Jenkins promptly. “They’re always getting write-ups in the City pages suggesting they will be going public but they never do. They’d be quite a good buy when the time comes, of course, that’s why there’s the interest.”
    â€œI think,” said Sloan slowly, “I can tell you the reason why they’ve stayed private all these years.”
    There was no mistaking the interest at the other end of the line. “You can?”
    â€œThere was a residual legatee here in Calleshire in a convent.” There was a lot of satisfaction in being able to tell London something.
    â€œThat’s it then. What sort of share?”
    â€œIf she survived her uncle I’d say she was stuck in for half.”
    Jenkins whistled. “Buying her out would upset the applecart. I don’t suppose they would have enough liquidity to do it. That’s the trouble with that sort of heavy industry. On the other hand, if they go public and leave her in they could be in a mess. They might lose control, you see. Tricky.”
    â€œNot quite so tricky now,” said Sloan. “She was killed on Wednesday evening. I don’t know how these things are managed, but I would like to know if this question of going public comes up again now.”
    â€œI’ll have a poke round the Issuing Houses. Might pick something up. Where can I get you?”
    â€œBerebury Police Station.”
    Sloan collected Crosby and Sister Lucy from the Chapel. She accepted the money he offered her for the telephone call without embarrassment or demur. “Thank you, Inspector. Bills are quite a problem.”
    All three of them went back to the Parlor.
    â€œIt would seem, Mother,” said Sister Lucy carefully, “that Sister Anne brought no dowry with her when she came. The Bursar’s accounts for that year show no receipt that is likely to be hers.”
    â€œThank you, Sister.”
    â€œI have had her will read to me over the telephone,” went on Sister Lucy. “It was made at our Mother House the year she took her vows. It bequeaths all of that of which she died possessed to our Order.”
    â€œHow much is likely to be involved?” asked Sloan casually.
    Sister Lucy looked at him. “As far as I am aware, nothing at all. Sister Anne brought nothing with her and had no income of any sort while she was here.”
    Father MacAuley coughed. “Aren’t we forgetting the potential?”
    â€œWhat potential?” asked the Mother Prioress.
    â€œCartwright’s Consolidated Carbons. That right, Inspector?”
    â€œThat’s right, Father. I don’t know where you get your information.”
    â€œYou don’t live in Strelitz Square on twopence ha’penny a week.”
    The Mother Prioress leaned forward enquiringly. “Had Sister Anne something to do with—er—Cartwright’s Consolidated Carbons?”
    â€œShe did, marm. They are a chemical company formed by her uncle and father to exploit an invention of theirs of a method of combining carbon with various compounds for industrial chemists.”
    â€œI see.” The Mother Prioress nodded. “That presumably was the source of the family income?”
    â€œYes, marm. You didn’t know?”
    â€œNot personally. My