Death and Cinderella (The Inspector Felix Mysteries Book 11)
Page 9
‘As a matter of fact, Mr Hindmarsh, we were just saying that it looks a very professional job. There aren’t many villains working at this level, fortunately. However, there’s something we want to follow up. Do you close Saturday afternoons?’
‘Yes, one o’clock at this branch. Our customers are usually away at the weekend, or preparing to return to a show in the evening. Frankly, we could close altogether on a Saturday.’
‘And there’d be no-one here after one or so?’
‘Not normally, no.’
‘When was the theft discovered?’
‘When our Mr Cope arrived this morning at nine. There’s Miss Joyce comes earlier but she’s off with the flu.’
‘All right, I’m going to send you my fingerprint team. They’re otherwise employed at the moment but they’ll be along as soon as they’re free. In the meantime, I’d rather no-one came up here. They’ll be wanting your staff’s prints, I’m afraid, for elimination purposes.’
‘All of them?’
‘All who use this floor.’
‘Then I’ll need to call some people in. Say after lunch?’
‘That would suit us very well.’
‘Can we reopen the shop?’
‘Not at the moment, sir. Sorry.’
◆◆◆
‘Come on Teddy!’ cried Felix. ‘We think we know how it was done.’
‘From here?’
‘From here.’
The two men all but ran up the stairs to the dress circle foyer, Rattigan puffing behind them.
‘There’ll be a window behind that curtain probably.’
‘Aha! Rooftops.’
‘Shouldn’t think that’s been cleaned recently.’
Felix raised the sash, letting in a chill breeze. ‘That came up remarkably easily. You might have expected it to stick. Can’t see Tillotson’s roof from here, unfortunately. Someone will have to go mountaineering.’
‘I don’t fancy that,’ said Hilliard, peering at the ancient tiles. ‘We need a flyweight.’
‘Hmm, talking of which,’ said Felix. Throwing open the double doors to the dress circle he peered into the shadowy auditorium, finding himself disappointed to discover no trim little figure gazing down at the stage.
‘Not there?’ said Rattigan.
‘Not this morning. Perhaps she’s completed her deliberations and all is about to be revealed.’
‘How would you feel about that?’
‘Delighted, frankly.’
‘We can’t risk a civilian, can we?’ asked Hilliard, not following their drift.
‘Lord no. I’ll go myself. If I’m not back in ten minutes send a St Bernard.’
As it turned out, access was easy. The buildings here were all quite deep from front to back, causing the builders to favour an M-shaped gable with a central, lead-lined valley. Along this convenient thoroughfare Felix carefully made his way, needing only to side-step occasionally onto another, similar, stretch as rooftop succeeded rooftop until there lay before him the point of entry with its neat pile of tiles — a perfectly safe place to approach and work, and quite secure from prying eyes. One could, he surmised, do the whole job in half a day, provided the shop was shut, with minimal risk of getting caught. Clever!
◆◆◆
‘Here we are, sir,’ said Yardley, plonking on the desk a small, leather case.
‘Did you find out who left it there?’ said Felix, fresh from his rooftop excursion.
‘A Mr John Smith, allegedly: thin, middle aged, losing his hair, according to the counter clerk.’
‘Curiouser and curiouser! Who’s got the key?’
‘Could be a bomb,’ Rattigan warned him.
‘It’s all right, Teddy,’ said Yardley, ‘I gave it a good shake to make sure.’
‘That wasn’t a frivolous suggestion,’ said Felix disapprovingly, ‘but I’ve a pretty good idea what we’ll find, and even, perhaps, who left the note.’
They all gathered round as he lifted the lid.
‘Crikey O’Riley!’
‘It’s the loot!’
‘So that’s what four thousand smackers buys you,’ said Hilliard. ‘Doesn’t look much, does it?’
‘We’ll have to get an inventory off them,’ said Felix, ‘in case it’s not all there. Dabs and photos, chaps. Best get a shot or two before you start powdering — some nice, clean ones for our records. Then you had better get along to Tillotson’s. We agreed on after lunch, so you’ve plenty of time. You won’t find anything there, I doubt, but it’s got to be done.’
‘Do we tell them?’
‘No, I think we’ll keep this under our hats for a few hours.’
‘What if they ask?’
‘Practice deceit, Paul. You never know when it might come in handy.’
◆◆◆
‘Thank you for coming to see us, Miss Herring,’ said Felix. ‘More dancing I see.’
‘Yes, except I’ve lost Buttons. He’s normally fairly reliable for timekeeping but he hasn’t appeared. I can still loosen up of course, but without him that’s about all.’
‘Then I hope this won’t come as too much of a shock but I’m sorry to have to tell you that Mr Snow has met with a motor accident and is in hospital. I’ve no further details at present except that he’s quite badly hurt and is, or was, unconscious. I’ve informed Mr Bethencourt, who is contacting his next of kin. I expect he’ll have a statement to make later.’
‘Oh dear,’ sighed Jane. ‘That is a blow. What did Alastair say about it?’
‘Not fit to repeat to a lady, I’m afraid. Tell me, do you, as a fellow investigator, have any thoughts on the matter?’
Jane gave him a wry look. ‘Are you saying it wasn’t a genuine accident?’
‘The report is that he was pushed into the path of a builder’s van.’
‘Might have known something about the murder, then?’
‘Go on,’ he encouraged.
‘Someone might have feared he’d blab. Or he might have been blackmailing them. But you’ve already thought of that.’ She made to go. ‘Thanks for telling me about him, Chief Inspector.’
Felix raised a hand. ‘Not so fast, if you please, Miss Herring. Kindly sit down and tell me what you know about this.’ He passed over the note and watched her expression as she read it.
‘Have you collected whatever it is?’ she asked.
Felix pulled forward the little case. ‘Yes, here we are.’
‘Gosh! Sparklers. Been dabbed, I see. Isn’t that the word you use?’
‘Yes, it is. Though of course the burglars will have worn gloves. Seen it before, have you?’
‘The jewellery? I get mine from Woolworths.’
Rattigan made a small, involuntary grunt, then continued his notetaking.
You would think, thought Felix, that butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth; perhaps it was the dimples. ‘Miss Herring,’ he said, ‘you are a very clever and personable young woman and we’re all a little in love with you, even Rattigan, but I have a shooting and probably an attempted murder to investigate and you are wasting my time. I might also point out that you are wasting the Regent Players’ time, because until we’ve found the guilty party, this theatre will not be allowed to reopen. Now, who pinched the loot, how did you come by it and why did it come here via Charing Cross Station’s left luggage department?’
Jane sighed. ‘Let me give you a hypothetical situation, Chief Inspector. Suppose someone, noting the arrival of certain suspicious persons at the Regent, was curious to know why they were here. The real reason, I mean, which pretty obviously wasn’t to help or join a struggling theatre company. And suppose this someone, somewhat familiar with the criminal world and being fully conversant with the geography of the theatre, decided those persons were planning a burglary of either the bank next door or the nearb
y jeweller’s shop, probably the latter and probably over the weekend. And further suppose that that someone was eager to deliver one of those persons from temptation without causing any great harm to anyone else, what would that someone do?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Felix. ‘What would they do?’
‘Well, I think that, assuming the burglary was to go ahead even while the theatre was swarming with policemen, that the loot would be concealed somewhere convenient, probably under one of the seats in the auditorium, until a safe way could be found to get it out of the building.’
‘And you – I mean, the someone – nobbled it?’
‘Clearly they did. They probably knew when the burglary had taken place because the scrap of thread they’d have stuck across the window sash was missing.’
‘Ah! Now I understand. But why Charing Cross?’
‘Because then there would be no way to prove that the aforementioned someone was involved at all.’
‘I see. And does the someone know who the thief is?’
‘I would say not, but of the three known candidates, one is dead and one has the perfect alibi. I’m sure you can work it out, Chief inspector.’
‘The fellow with the alibi being he who the someone was so eager to shield from temptation? What happened to him by the way? I presume it’s a him?’
‘I should imagine he was sent on a nice weekend away, something the someone thought he might appreciate.’
‘And did he?’
‘He did, as it happens,’ said a male voice, ‘but now he’s very cross.’
Jane’s complexion had gone instantly puce. Andrew tried to grab her but she ducked under his arm and fled the room.
Felix nodded a welcome. ‘Good morning, Mr Haigh. Nice to see you again. May I take it you are the gentleman referred to?’
‘You may,’ said Andrew.’ He slapped a newspaper down on the desk, ‘And what the hell has been going on here?’
‘How much do you know?’
‘Only what this rag tells me.’
‘You haven’t seen Mrs Green?’
‘What’s she got to do with it? I haven’t seen anyone. I came straight here.’
‘Do you mind telling me where you’ve been for the last few days?’
‘Travelling. What happened to Charlie?’
‘As the newspaper says, Mr Sullivan has unfortunately been shot dead. At the moment we don’t know much else. We would, of course, have informed you but we had no contact address. How much did you hear of Miss Herring’s hypothetical tale?’
Suddenly weary, Andrew sat down. ‘Most of it. Theatrical diction is a wonderful thing. As it happens, she’s wrong. About me, that is. Not only was I not involved in planning this burglary but I knew nothing whatever about it, and wouldn’t have been interested if I had done. What’s it got to do with the theatre anyway?’
Felix glanced at Rattigan. ‘It was done from here. The theatre is taller than the surrounding buildings and they got in across the rooftops. Could Mr Sullivan have been involved in that at all?’
Andrew shook his head. ‘Charlie Sullivan never did a dishonest thing in his life; he was congenitally incapable of it, and that includes his job. He was a genius at judging horseflesh and calculating odds, and like a babe unborn in everything else; especially where women were concerned.’
‘Including, one assumes, Miss Bagshaw?’
‘Who is that? Miss Ossipova, I suppose. I never did believe that accent. It was all over the place.’
‘The same, yes. Could she have been involved?’
‘I’ve no idea. Shouldn’t be surprised.’
‘What about the murder?’
‘That too.’
‘Where were you educated, Mr Haigh?’
‘God, you do jump about, don’t you! Winchester, if you must know.’
‘A Wykehamist?’
‘They can’t pinch you for it.’
Felix smiled. ‘How did you get involved with Mr Sullivan?’
‘I met him at the races; he saved me from a life of crime and degradation.’
‘Father figure?’
‘In a way, though it was usually me fathering him. I was very fond of him. Had I been here he might still be alive. I’m extremely cross.’
‘Cross with Miss Herring?’
‘Yes.’
‘She could hardly have expected what happened. Keeping you away from Mr Sullivan might as easily have saved your own life. We just don’t know.’
‘Humph. Looks like she’s added you to her stable of admirers.’
‘She had it right about the burglary and even got the loot back. I’m very impressed by that.’
Andrew sighed. ‘I suppose you would be. In her way she’s a genius too. She has a peculiar talent for pulling all sorts of facts and fancies together and making meaningful connections. A has sold his bicycle to B’s uncle so C must be about to run away with D. The trouble with that sort of thing, of course, is that it’s easy to be wrong. Still, it looks as though she’s done you some good.’ He peered into the dressing case. ‘Tillotson the jewellers?’
‘Yes, it was. Can you actually prove you’ve been away since last Friday? Where were you?’
‘On the Regent’s and Grand Union canals, London to Braunston. Every lock keeper will remember me, I daresay – I’ll have stuck out like a sore thumb in my now sadly ruined suit – and several waterside drinking places too. Can’t remember where I boarded – it’s all a bit hazy – but it was in the small hours of Friday morning.’
Felix contemplated him in silence for a while. ‘All right, you can go. I shall want to see you again, though, so don’t stray too far.’
‘Doesn’t know his luck,’ grumbled Rattigan. ‘And even less would I trust her now. It was a narrowboat presumably. Do you reckon she had him shanghaied aboard?’
‘Sounds like it, doesn’t it? It’s up to him if he wants to lodge a complaint. One does wonder about the company she keeps, though, if she can set that up.’
Chapter Ten
There was a knock at the open door. ‘Come in Cribb, what’s the verdict?’
Constable Cribb, took out his notebook. ‘I got the beat constable’s report, sir. He was only just up the road, as it happens, but missed seeing the actual incident. A Mr Fudge, however, a butcher, was hanging up poultry and saw it all as it was just outside his shop. It seems that Snow is seen as a bit of a character locally so people tend to notice him, which Fudge did. He also knows Mr Greyson, a local builder. He’s not sure who pushed him, the pavement being so crowded, but he reckons someone must have done because Snow, who’d been walking along quite normally, suddenly went flying into the street, straight in front of Greyson’s van. Greyson wasn’t going very fast, he said, but he didn’t stand a chance of stopping in time, and the front wheel went right over him. I did speak to the butcher myself, sir, and to Greyson. The poor fellow’s still shaking. Not much doubt in anyone’s mind it was deliberate, sir, but no-one actually saw the perpetrator. I also called in at the hospital, as I was passing. He’s still unconscious, sir.’
Felix nodded. ‘Thanks, Cribb. Nice report. I’ve got a challenge for you now. I want you to check an alibi. A Mr Andrew Haigh claims to have been travelling the Regent and Grand Union canals over the weekend, between London and Braunston. You’d best get back to the Yard for that to save hogging this telephone. Use my office. He’s a good-looking chap, aged about thirty, average build, five foot nine, brown eyes, dark hair, was wearing a mid-grey plaid suit and had probably lost his hat. Got that? See if any of the lock keepers on that stretch are on the phone and take it from there. Sergeant Nash will be returning shortly to process his film but first I’ll get him to pop these sparklers back to the Yard. You go too and ride shotgun. Come on, Teddy, we’d best have a word with Bethencourt.’
They found Alastair next door in the S
tage Manager’s office.
‘I was just coming to see you, Chief inspector. I need to get the theatrical agents’ file from my desk. I’m about to start looking for another Buttons. It seems unlikely ours’ll be in a fit state when we eventually reopen.’
‘Will that be so easy, at short notice?’
‘Probably impossible but I have to try. Another nail in the coffin of our hopes.’
Felix made a little moue of sympathy. ‘Did you get the drift about our robbery?’
‘Yes, the drums have been beating,’ said Alastair. As if we didn’t have enough problems, we find ourselves in a thieves’ kitchen! Do you know who did it?’
‘Am I intruding,’ said a diffident voice.
‘Hello, Clare. To what do we owe this pleasure?’
She put her portfolio on the desk and opened it. ‘John wanted you to see this. Is he here?’
‘No, he’s not. They probably won’t be long. What have you got for me?’
‘It’s just that I was going through some contact prints of people chatting after the dress rehearsal, looking for anything worth keeping, when John suddenly spotted this. Are we right in thinking that Robin Hubbard said he wasn’t here Friday night?’
‘He said that, yes.’
‘Well, he was. Look, where I’ve ringed it. That, if I’m not mistaken, is Betty Bagshaw’s dressing-room door, slightly open, and that’s Hubbard’s jacket sleeve. One can scarcely miss it because of the dark and light stripes. Plum and cream, apparently, very modish. John said Hubbard was wearing it when he came to see you yesterday. None of the cast or crew was wearing anything like that on Friday night. I’m sure I’d have remembered.’
‘Yes, I believe he was, now I think of it. Interesting. Possibly very interesting. What sort of time would it have been?’
‘I should say about six-fifteen or twenty. I was killing time before John arrived. I’d never have given it a thought if old eagle eyes hadn’t spotted it.’ She smiled and shrugged. ‘That’s it really. I’ll leave it with you, shall I?’
‘Won’t you wait to see him? Or Jane Herring is about somewhere.’