warehouse floor. Mr Bister, who owned three large warehouses, had taken Hughesâs word for it that the tins were too badly damaged to be sold on. Herbie had put them into a skip but had returned that night with a handcart, on to which he had loaded not only the tins which had fallen from the burst-open crate, but also a sack of sugar and another of hazelnut kernels. He planned to say that both sacks had been damaged â torn open â when the crate had burst, and had wheeled his trophies off, probably in a state of some agitation, since this had been his first attempt to cheat his employer.
Mr Bister had suspected nothing. A good deal of stock went missing between the ships and the warehouse because the men working on the docks were, in Mr Bisterâs opinion, a fair set of rogues. So when his head warehouseman had filled in his receipt sheet with nine sacks of hazelnuts instead of ten, and nineteen sacks of sugar instead of twenty, he had assumed that the sacks had never even appeared at the warehouse. He had signed the sheets and asked no questions so, as he told Harry, in a way he had almost encouraged theft.
This had gone on for some time, but eventually, of course, Herbie Hughes had gone too far. It was partly because he had begun to sell some of his ill-gotten goods to respectable shopkeepers who began to talk amongst themselves, but also because one of the other employees at the warehouse had realised what was going on. He was a young lad and had begun to fear that, as the last person to be employed, he might be blamed, for even he had seen that the thefts were becoming more and more blatant. Herbie was taking anything he fancied, anything he felt he could sell for a profit. He had even handed stolen goods to some of the workers under him, assuring them that they were his perks for work well done and thus ensuring, he had believed, that none of them would split on him.
However, he had reckoned without the new young lad, and also he had reckoned without his employerâs diligence. Mr Bister, who made a point of checking through each monthâs work, had been struck by the rising number of missing crates, sacks and boxes of goods. He had decided to keep an eye on the warehouse for a couple of nights, for though he employed a night watchman the man was old and was chiefly concerned with preventing break-ins. If the head warehouseman let himself in with his keys and helped himself quietly to goods which he had placed as near the staff entrance as possible, the night watchman would be unlikely to realise that he was no longer alone on the premises, or that a theft was taking place.
Mr Bister had watched for two nights and had been mortified â and furious â to realise that he was actually employing a thief. On the third night, the police had watched with him and Herbie Hughes had been caught red-handed. Mr Bister had sacked him and had then questioned the rest of the staff, most of whom had avowed total ignorance of what had been going on. Only the new young lad had spoken up.
Mr Bister had told Harry the story but he had not prosecuted his head warehouseman because he saw no point in doing so. He knew that without a reference Herbie Hughes would not get another decent job, and thought that was punishment enough. Harry, however, was rather uneasy about some of the men now working under him. He kept a close watch on all of them and knew they were not stealing at present, but he also knew they resented the checks he kept upon everything entering and leaving the warehouse and wondered, uneasily, how long it would be before one of them decided to chance his arm.
However, the recent fate of Herbie Hughes was still very much in the forefront of their minds and Harry hoped that the fact that he checked and double-checked would discourage malpractice. Mr Bister certainly believed it would do so, for, as he had said, only the head warehouseman held keys to the premises. He had explained to Harry that
Learning to Kill: Stories