‘Since Mantel’s been the gallery’s sponsor? Okay, could Henry get into the gallery and check the other paintings?’
‘I could ask him. I’m sure Horton would let us in, but,’ Ena slowly shook her head, ‘Henry wouldn’t do anything illegal.’
‘Would it be illegal? You’d be helping the owner out in the long run, or is she involved in the scam?’
‘I don’t think she’s involved. I think she’s a little smitten with Mantel. He’s a smooth operator, a charmer. He’s what my mother would call a lady’s man.’ Ena grimaced. ‘Not my cup of tea. No,’ she said thoughtfully, ‘Giselle isn’t involved in the thefts or the forgeries, I’m sure of it.’
‘Horton said no paintings were missing that night.’
‘They could have been stolen and replaced with forgeries while he was at home.’
Ena took a drink of her tea. ‘Horton’s worried about losing his job so he’s obviously hoping nothing was taken. He thinks the burglar panicked after hitting him and did a runner before he had time to steal anything. The more I think about it the more I’m sure that the bloke who rang Horton from his house threatening to hurt his daughter, is the same bloke who knocked Horton out.’
‘He must have left Horton’s house soon after talking to him.’
‘I think he left immediately he put the telephone down, went to the gallery and he had already swapped the paintings by the time Horton got there. I think he was probably leaving as Horton came in.’
Artie sipped his tea thoughtfully. ‘Strange that the painting that went missing on the day of the preview that you and Henry attended was found and authenticated by Henry as original.’
‘The original was put on show for Henry’s benefit. Mantel would have known Henry was going to look at the painting. Giselle Aubrey had no reason to suspect Mantel of dodgy doings. She’d have told him in all innocence.’
‘So, Mantel swapped the forgery with the real thing, and when the gallery closed, swapped it back?’
‘That’s one scenario. However it happened, the Hogarth that Henry saw that night was genuine. The other three in the set were also genuine.’
‘So, after thrashing out the possibilities, are you any the wiser?’
Ena blew out her cheeks. ‘No, but I hope to be when I’ve dragged Henry back to the gallery to look at the display for the next pre-auction viewing.’ Ena and Artie’s heads turned at the sound of the front door opening. ‘We’re in here, darling,’ Ena shouted.
‘Artie?’ Henry said, entering the room. ‘Good to see you.’ The two men shook hands. ‘Hello, darling.’ Henry kissed Ena and frowned. ‘You look pale. What’s the matter?’
‘It’s a long story,’ Artie cut in. ‘I don’t suppose she’ll tell you,’ he said, pouting disapprovingly at Ena, ‘so I will. She has had a bump on the head, so, if she feels unwell or shows the slightest sign of concussion, take her to the emergency department of your local hospital.’
His frown deepening, Henry looked at Ena and then Artie. ‘I’ll see you out,’ he said, following Artie to the hall and then the front door. ‘Thanks for bringing her home.’
‘Artie’s taking my car,’ Ena shouted from the sitting room.
Henry picked up the keys to the Sunbeam from the hall table and gave them to Artie.
‘I can walk to Stockwell station and get the Underground.’
‘I’ll bring Ena into work in the morning, she won’t need the car.’
When Henry returned to the sitting room, Ena was pouring a glass of whisky. Henry took it from her. ‘Concussion and you’re drinking scotch? I don’t think so. You need food?’
‘We’ve got a dozen eggs, cheese… there’s plenty of food in the refrigerator.’
‘Cheese omelette, coming up. I’ll fry last night’s leftovers and make bubble and squeak,’ Henry leaned over Ena, kissed her and took the glass with whisky in it with him.
****
‘I wondered whether you’d be in today,’ Artie said passing Ena coming out of the cloakroom. He ran into the office and picked up the ringing telephone on Ena’s desk. As she entered, he was holding the telephone out to her. ‘Surrey CID,’ he whispered.
Ena mouthed, ‘damn’, took the telephone from Artie and said, ‘Ena Green here, can I help you?’
‘Mrs Green, DI Reed. I was wondering if it would be convenient for you and Mr Mallory to come down to Police headquarters today?’
‘Headquarters?’
‘Surrey headquarters. We’re in Guildford, Mount Browne. Sandy Lane.’
Ena scribbled the address down on a notepad.
‘Would you hold for a moment, Inspector?’ Ena put her hand over the telephone’s mouthpiece. ‘Did you pick up the photographs?’ Artie nodded. ‘Good. We’ll go through them now and then you go down to Guildford. I’ll hang on here, I need to make a few calls. If there’s time I’ll take the photographs to Bow Street. If not, I’ll go tomorrow.’ She took her hand away from the telephone and lifted it to her mouth. ‘Mr Mallory will come to Guildford this morning. It will take him time to get to you. Shall we say between eleven and twelve?’
‘Fine.’
‘Good. I’ll come down this afternoon. We’re only a small agency, I’d rather not close the office for too long.’
‘Perfectly understandable, Mrs Green. Until this afternoon then. Goodbye.’
Artie brought in two cups of coffee and put them on the table before taking the envelope containing the surveillance photographs and spreading them out in the order they were taken.
Ena put the receiver on its cradle and joined him. ‘I’ve no idea where bloody Mount Browne is in Guildford.’
‘I was a stone’s throw from there yesterday.’
‘In that case, you go down by train and then get a cab from Guildford railway station. I’ll take the road map and drive down.’ She looked at Mantel’s photograph. ‘Smarmy tyke.’
‘Look, Martel has his hand on Horton’s shoulder and he’s smiling at him. That’s what I meant when I said the photos wouldn’t clear Horton.’
Ena went to her desk and took a magnifying glass from it. She scrutinised each photograph in turn and picked out three. ‘Use this,’ she said, handing the magnifier to Artie. ‘Look closely at these three and tell me what you see.’
Artie leaned over the photographs and lifted the magnifying glass to his left eye. ‘Mantel isn’t smiling at Horton at all, he’s grinning menacingly. And his hand isn’t on his shoulder in a friendly gesture. Mantel’s applying pressure to the muscle running down the side of Horton’s neck with his thumb. Horton’s grimacing with pain, the poor bugger.’
While Artie was focusing on the photographs of Mantel and Horton, Ena scanned the rest. ‘There’s a man in the background of most of the photographs you took from the street. Did you see him?’ Ena pointed to a broad-shouldered man in a dark jacket with dark, probably black hair, holding a cup. She flicked through the rest of the photographs. He was in half a dozen of them – and he wore the same expression and was holding the same cup. Did you see this man when you were inside?’
‘Yes, but I didn’t take much notice of him. I remember him being there. Now, come to think of it, he left at the same time as Mantel and Horton and walked off in the same direction as Mantel. Why, do you know him?’
‘Yes, his name’s Victor. He’s the doorman at the gallery. He greets people when they arrive. If La Galerie Unique was a nightclub he’d be a good bouncer. I wonder why he was there,’ Ena mused. ‘He’s very protective of Giselle Aubrey. Perhaps he’s also suspicious of Mantel. Good work, Artie.’
Artie smiled. ‘Thanks, boss. Oh,’ He looked at his wristwatch, ‘I’d better get moving if I’m going to be at the nick in Guildford before twelve o’clock.’ He went to the desk and ripped the address of Surrey Police Headquarters from the notepad. ‘So,’ he said, ‘what’s the story?’
‘The truth. Tell the DI exactly what happened. Don’t lose your temper and don’t get emotional, stick to the point.’ Ena laughed. ‘Claire taught me
a good lesson when she and I were caught coming out of O’Shaughnessy’s house in Brighton last year. A detective sergeant and constable took a dim view of two women breaking into someone’s house on their patch, even though they knew O’Shaughnessy had a rap sheet a mile long. Misdemeanours mostly. Anyway, we drove behind them to Brighton nick where an old pal of Inspector Powell’s gave us the third degree.’ Ena laughed again. ‘He was alright really. On the way, Claire said, don’t volunteer anything, just answer the questions you’re asked and don’t elaborate.’
‘I’ll remember,’ Artie said. He picked up his attaché case and made for the door. ‘By the way,’ he said turning back to Ena. ‘You are coming down this afternoon, aren’t you?’
‘Yes. I need to make some calls. If I have time, I want to pop into Bow Street and see Inspector Powell. I need to update him on the case and show him these photographs. I think Horton will help us if he knows a plain clothes policeman is keeping an eye on his daughter and granddaughter. I’ll telephone Horton and arrange to meet him at Bow Street tomorrow morning.’
‘I’ll get a cab to Waterloo station.’
Ena gave Artie ten pounds from the petty cash tin. ‘I’ll drive down. By the time you’ve given your statement it’ll be getting on for one o’clock. I might be a little longer giving my statement because I’ll run through George’s father being poisoned. If I’m done in time, I’ll bring you back. If you’re done early and there’s no sign of me get the train back. Either way we’ll meet later, if not in Guildford, back here.’
Artie saluted and pushed open the office door.
‘Good luck!’
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
The desk sergeant at Mount Brown telephoned through and told DI Reed that Ena had arrived. A young WPC took her upstairs to the DI’s office and asked her to wait in the corridor. She knocked and entered without waiting to be asked. A minute later Artie came out, followed by the WPC.
‘If you’d like to go in, Mrs Green?’ The WPC held open the door. Ena got up and as she drew level with Artie said, ‘There’s a café a couple of doors down on the right. Get something to eat. I’ll see you as soon as I’m done here.’
Ena entered the DI’s office followed by the WPC who pulled out the chair opposite the inspector. When Ena sat down, the Police woman picked up a notebook and pen and sat down next to her, her pen poised to take down Ena’s statement.
‘Thank you for coming in, Mrs Green. Have you recovered from your ordeal at the hands of Andrea Thornton?’
‘Yes. My head has stopped aching and my neck is healing.’ She had a scarf around her neck which hid the plaster that Jeanie McKinlay had put on to keep the cut clean. Had the cut been bigger, deeper, she’d have shown him. Aware that the woman Police constable was writing down every word she said, Ena began with the death of George’s father. ‘I was commissioned to investigate the death of Mr Derby-Bloom by his daughter and, during my enquires I learned that he had picked up Mrs Thornton’s lemon and barley drink by mistake and taken it to his room where he drank most of it.’
Aware that the WPC was writing, Ena paused to let her catch up. She turned the page and waited for Ena to resume speaking.
‘Because I found Mr Derby-Bloom’s death suspicious I had what remained of the drink he’d ingested on the day he died analysed. It contained water hemlock. Mr Derby-Bloom’s death was tragic and unnecessary. A mistake. I believe the poison was meant for Mrs Thornton, the grandmother of Andrea.
‘My associate, Artie Mallory, interviewed the reporter who was at the scene of the accident when Andrea Thornton’s parents were killed. The reporter told Artie she had a disabled brother. When I got to house, I looked through the kitchen window and saw the boy, Mrs Thornton’s grandson, Rory, gagged and tied to his wheelchair.’
‘Which is why you broke into the house?’
‘Yes. I couldn’t leave the poor boy. He was in a terrible state. He had clearly needed the toilet while his sister was at the nursing home, his clothes were filthy and he looked half-starved. So, yes, I broke in. I was trying to take the boy’s gag off when Andrea knocked me unconscious. When I came round, she had tied me to a chair.’ Ena shuddered. ‘I dread to think what she’d have done to me – and her brother for that matter – if Artie hadn’t shown up.’
‘Quite.’ Inspector Reed glanced at the WPC. When she had stopped writing she nodded. ‘Did you witness Mr Mallory using more force than was necessary when he restrained Miss Thornton?’
‘No. She had a knife aimed at my jugular. She’d have stuck me with it in a second if he hadn’t thrown a sheet over her. He pulled it down and held her arms at the side of the body. She’d have used the knife on him if she’d got the chance. She went wild. She thrashed about and eventually fell, taking Artie with her. But you know all that.’
The inspector looked at the policewoman again. When she stopped writing he thanked her and asked Ena to read what the WPC had written and if it was correct to sign her name on the bottom of the last page. Ena glanced through the statement and signed.
‘Thank you for coming in, Mrs Green.’ The inspector stood up and shook Ena’s hand across the table. ‘The WPC will see you out.’
‘For the record, Inspector, Artie Mallory saved my life,’ Ena said from the door. She followed the policewoman down the stairs, thanked her and left.
Ena spotted Artie sitting in the window of the café tucking into a plate of fish and chips.
‘You were quick.’
‘You’d probably already told him everything he needed to know after you arrived at the house. Could I have the same,’ she asked the waitress who came to take her order. ‘And a cup of tea?’
‘I did tell him everything, damn right I did. Did the DI tell you that cheeky mare has made a complaint against me? She only wants me done for GBH. She told the inspector that I put a sheet over her, tied her up and then punched her.’
‘You did. I mean, you hadn’t tied her up by then, but you did give her a thump to stop her wriggling.’ Ena began to laugh.
‘Not funny! I only punched her because I thought she’d escape. She was like a bag of bloody eels. She’d have done more than punch me if she had got free.’
‘So, what’s going to happen about her complaint? Did the inspector believe you?’
‘Yes, after I reminded him that you’d told him she’d fallen when I got her off you.’
The waitress brought Ena’s lunch on a tray, placing a knife and fork on the table before the plate of fish and chips. When she had put down the cup of tea, Ena thanked her.
‘The desk sergeant told me she attacked the DC who brought her in.’
‘That was a bit of luck. At least now Inspector Reed knows what she’s like.’
‘I’m guessing you didn’t have time to take the photographs to DI Powell?’
‘No, he was about to go to a meeting with the Chief Constable. He said he’d see me tomorrow morning.’
‘On your own or with Horton?’
‘I want half an hour with him first, so I’m meeting Horton there at ten. I telephoned him. He was reluctant at first and took a bit of persuading. He’s worried that Mantel will find out and there’ll be repercussions.’
‘His daughter and her child?’
‘Yes. I said I’d get someone to keep an eye on his house, make sure the thug who threatened the daughter before, doesn’t do it again.’
‘I’d be happy to watch the place, but I wouldn’t be much good in a fight.’
‘I wasn’t suggesting you do it. I think Horton and his daughter would be happier with a woman.’
‘You?’
Ena laughed. ‘I was thinking more along the lines of WPC Jarvis, from Bow Street. She isn’t much older than Horton’s daughter, and she might like to get out of her uniform. I shall suggest it to Inspector Powell. I think he’ll go for the idea.’
Ena put down her knife and fork and finished her tea. ‘Come on, let’s get back to London. We’ll have a quick look at the flat, see how it’s coming
along, and then go to the Lamb and Flag for a drink.’ Ena got up and stretched. ‘It’s already been a long day.’
***
‘Do we need anything from the office before tomorrow, Artie?’
‘I don’t but you need the photographs to show Inspector Powell. I’ll get them. You go up to the flat. I’ll be with you in two minutes.’
Ena ran up the stairs and switched on the landing light. Her and Henry’s new home at 8a Mercer Street was twice the size of the flat in Stockwell. She heard the street door open and close, and then Artie’s footsteps on the uncarpeted stairs.
‘In here,’ she shouted, making her way along the corridor to the main bedroom. It was almost finished. The woodwork had been painted white and the walls a soft cream. All the room needed now was carpet and furniture. She left the main bedroom and poked her head round the door of the guest bedroom. Nothing had been done in there except the walls had been stripped of the old wallpaper and it had been plastered. The bathroom was the same. The kitchen when she went in took her by surprise. It had been fitted with a sink and draining board, washing machine, refrigerator and two high stools under a counter along the far wall.
‘Ooo,’ Artie came in and ran his hand along the smooth Formica top above the high stools. ‘Very swish. This is fabulous; like one of those counters in a trendy coffee bar.’
‘It is a bit, isn’t it?’
‘The sitting room is modern too. Or it will be when it’s finished.’ Ena pushed up a hatch, designed to look like a small window in the kitchen wall. ‘That’s the dining room end of the sitting room,’ she said, poking her head through. ‘It’s for when we entertain, don’t you know?’ Ena said, putting on her best posh voice.
They both laughed. ‘Well,’ she said, pulling down the hatch, ‘we won’t be able to afford to move again for a very long time, so we thought we’d have what we wanted. To be honest we’ve been making do in the small flat in Stockwell for a couple of years now. The rent is high and it will never be ours. So,’ Ena opened her arms and twirled, ‘this is it!’
Old Cases New Colours (A Dudley Green Investigation) (The Dudley Sisters Saga Book 9) Page 21