quite,’ Fleming said perversely. ‘It’s always possible he might have flown home in between plays, though unlikely.’
‘Inspector, you must have more to do than entertain unlikely scenarios. For a start, I need a clear summary of the facts of the case and such concrete evidence as you do have, so that we can shape your investigation in the most effective way.’
‘I’ll have that for you tomorrow,’ Fleming said, putting the phone down before she could say something she would most definitely regret.
Her other phone call, to Donald Bailey, wasn’t easy either. He too expected a report, but she couldn’t let herself be drawn. In the case she was reviewing, he was suspected of running an ineffective investigation and no more entitled to know what she was doing than any other suspect would be.
She stalled him politely, but in a way which made it clear what the position was. It was obvious he was upset, and even a little alarmed.
‘I see. Doing it by the book, Marjory? Well, I suppose that’s fair enough.’ Then he said, ‘Just like your father – except that one time. You’ll have seen what happened by now.’
‘I’d like to talk to you about that, but for the moment I’m only clearing the ground. Oh, and don’t worry about my paperwork. I’ve got it under control and I hate to think what Tam MacNee might do if he was let loose on it.’
‘Fine, Marjory, if you’re sure. The thing is, I just think it’s absolutely essential that this thing doesn’t hang on too long.’
His voice sounded as if he felt the thing hanging might easily be the sword of Damocles.
Jaki Johnston tiptoed up the stairs. She’d gone out with the team to the local pub – not strong on atmosphere, but the beer wasn’t bad, the company was good and she’d had a great laugh. Maybe the jokes weren’t as funny as all that, but when you’d spent two days hearing amusing tales of old Hollywood, you really appreciated them.
Marcus and Barrie had stayed with Sylvia, but they obviously hadn’t gone on late into the night. As she came in the only sound she could hear was – well, probably Hollywood legends didn’t snore, but certainly heavy breathing, from behind the door of Sylvia’s downstairs bedroom.
In her own room, she switched on the light beside the bed, then went to close the curtains before undressing. Light was spilling out from the guest room next door; Marcus must still be awake, but if he’d heard her come in he had obviously not wanted to see her any more than she wanted to see him.
As the light from both windows lit up the garden below, Jaki suddenly remembered what she’d seen the night before. She could settle the mystery now.
It had been raining all evening, quite heavily, and she peered through the gloom to where she had seen the shadowy shape. It was still there – a bush, just as she had told herself it must be. Was she ever glad she hadn’t rushed off to Marcus with her tale of alarm!
5
‘ Wcze s ´nie dzisiaj wstae s ´ . You’re up early today,’ Stefan Pavany said.
It wasn’t quite seven o’clock, and a dull morning with drizzling rain. The run-down kitchenette in the rented house had only a small window, covered by a dirty net curtain, but Kasper Franzik hadn’t put on the light. At the other man’s entrance he spun round so suddenly that water from the kettle he was holding splashed on the floor instead of on to the instant coffee in his mug. He dodged it and swore.
‘Not like you.’ There was an edge to Stefan’s voice. ‘Usually I’m turning you out of bed to get on site for eight. What’s going on?’
He advanced on the meagre floor space so that Kasper was forced into the angle formed by the units and the chipped enamel sink.
‘It’s – it’s just—’ he stammered, his prominent Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.
‘What were you and Jozef talking about last night? I could tell you were plotting something. I don’t like plots.’ Stefan’s dark blue eyes
‘Inspector, you must have more to do than entertain unlikely scenarios. For a start, I need a clear summary of the facts of the case and such concrete evidence as you do have, so that we can shape your investigation in the most effective way.’
‘I’ll have that for you tomorrow,’ Fleming said, putting the phone down before she could say something she would most definitely regret.
Her other phone call, to Donald Bailey, wasn’t easy either. He too expected a report, but she couldn’t let herself be drawn. In the case she was reviewing, he was suspected of running an ineffective investigation and no more entitled to know what she was doing than any other suspect would be.
She stalled him politely, but in a way which made it clear what the position was. It was obvious he was upset, and even a little alarmed.
‘I see. Doing it by the book, Marjory? Well, I suppose that’s fair enough.’ Then he said, ‘Just like your father – except that one time. You’ll have seen what happened by now.’
‘I’d like to talk to you about that, but for the moment I’m only clearing the ground. Oh, and don’t worry about my paperwork. I’ve got it under control and I hate to think what Tam MacNee might do if he was let loose on it.’
‘Fine, Marjory, if you’re sure. The thing is, I just think it’s absolutely essential that this thing doesn’t hang on too long.’
His voice sounded as if he felt the thing hanging might easily be the sword of Damocles.
Jaki Johnston tiptoed up the stairs. She’d gone out with the team to the local pub – not strong on atmosphere, but the beer wasn’t bad, the company was good and she’d had a great laugh. Maybe the jokes weren’t as funny as all that, but when you’d spent two days hearing amusing tales of old Hollywood, you really appreciated them.
Marcus and Barrie had stayed with Sylvia, but they obviously hadn’t gone on late into the night. As she came in the only sound she could hear was – well, probably Hollywood legends didn’t snore, but certainly heavy breathing, from behind the door of Sylvia’s downstairs bedroom.
In her own room, she switched on the light beside the bed, then went to close the curtains before undressing. Light was spilling out from the guest room next door; Marcus must still be awake, but if he’d heard her come in he had obviously not wanted to see her any more than she wanted to see him.
As the light from both windows lit up the garden below, Jaki suddenly remembered what she’d seen the night before. She could settle the mystery now.
It had been raining all evening, quite heavily, and she peered through the gloom to where she had seen the shadowy shape. It was still there – a bush, just as she had told herself it must be. Was she ever glad she hadn’t rushed off to Marcus with her tale of alarm!
5
‘ Wcze s ´nie dzisiaj wstae s ´ . You’re up early today,’ Stefan Pavany said.
It wasn’t quite seven o’clock, and a dull morning with drizzling rain. The run-down kitchenette in the rented house had only a small window, covered by a dirty net curtain, but Kasper Franzik hadn’t put on the light. At the other man’s entrance he spun round so suddenly that water from the kettle he was holding splashed on the floor instead of on to the instant coffee in his mug. He dodged it and swore.
‘Not like you.’ There was an edge to Stefan’s voice. ‘Usually I’m turning you out of bed to get on site for eight. What’s going on?’
He advanced on the meagre floor space so that Kasper was forced into the angle formed by the units and the chipped enamel sink.
‘It’s – it’s just—’ he stammered, his prominent Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.
‘What were you and Jozef talking about last night? I could tell you were plotting something. I don’t like plots.’ Stefan’s dark blue eyes
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