The Stratford Murder by Mike Hollow (best thriller novels of all time .TXT) 📗

‘Me? Why are you asking me?’

‘Mr Conway’s told me that you keep a set of keys to the cinema, so I’m afraid I have to ask you.’

‘Well, if you must know, I was at home too – and I was alone.’

‘Thank you. Perhaps you could bring Miss Hayes in now.’

Cynthia slipped out of the door and returned with a young woman dressed in a maroon uniform of skirt and jacket trimmed with gold braid. Jago noticed that her eyes looked red, as if she’d been crying.

‘Now, Beryl,’ said Conway, ‘Inspector Jago just wants a brief word with you.’

‘I know,’ said Beryl. ‘Cynthia’s just told me. She said Joan’s been murdered.’

Beryl pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and pushed her face into it as she burst into tears. Conway moved to comfort her, but Cynthia placed herself between him and Beryl, putting her arms round the distressed woman and holding her. Beryl seemed to struggle to control her crying, but eventually she pulled herself away a little from Cynthia to face Conway.

‘I’m sorry, Mr Conway, I didn’t mean to do that. It’s just a terrible shock. It’s all right, though, I won’t miss my shift – I’ve put my uniform on, because I didn’t know whether there’d be time to go home and change before I start, and I knew you wouldn’t want to be left one usherette short. I won’t let you down.’

Jago thought Conway wasn’t quite sure how to respond to this, so he stepped in.

‘I’m sorry, Miss Hayes. I just need to ask you a few questions. Please accept my condolences on your sad loss. This must be very difficult for you.’

‘Thank you,’ she replied. ‘But how could it happen? It doesn’t make sense. Who’d want to kill Joan?’

‘We don’t know yet, but we’ll endeavour to find out. I’m sorry to have to ask you this, Miss Hayes, but would you be able to come with us and identify the body?’

‘Yes, of course.’

She began to cry again and thrust her face back into Cynthia’s shoulder.

‘Mr Conway,’ Jago continued, ‘when we’ve done that, I’d like to come back and have a word with Miss Carlton, if that’s all right.’

‘Yes, of course,’ said Conway.

‘And I think it would be a good idea if Miss Hayes had the rest of the day off. Don’t you?’

‘Oh, er, yes, of course. Just what I was going to suggest.’

‘Very well. I’ll take her home when we’ve finished at the mortuary.’

Conway nodded quickly. ‘Yes, yes, of course.’

‘And just one last question before we go,’ said Jago. ‘You said Joan was on duty here last night. Is that the last time you saw her?’

‘Yes, that’s correct.’

‘What time did she go off duty?’

‘Well, the evening programme finishes at nine o’clock nowadays, because of the bombing, and normally once all the patrons have gone Joan and the other usherettes go round pushing the seats up if they’ve been left down and emptying the ashtrays, that sort of thing. But last night Joan said she wasn’t feeling very well, so I said she could slip away as soon as the national anthem finished. I mean, I wasn’t going to keep her back, was I? Some people say I’m a hard taskmaster, Inspector – that all I care about is filling this place every day and making money – but they’ve got me wrong. Yes, I run a tight ship, and if people don’t like it they can get out, but I care about my girls, you know. I see my job as being like a … like a … well, not a father, I’m obviously too young to be that, thank the Lord, but a big brother – someone who’ll keep an eye out for their welfare. I like to think I look after my girls – I always try to be sensitive to their needs.’

Jago thought he heard Cynthia snort, but when he looked at her, she was staring blankly over Beryl’s head, her face betraying no identifiable emotion. It was only when he announced that it was time to go that she released Beryl from her grasp.

CHAPTER EIGHT

It was a little after half past ten when Jago and Cradock returned Beryl to her lodgings in Cross Street, just off the northern end of West Ham Lane. On seeing Joan’s lifeless body in the mortuary she had stood as if frozen, with only a silent inclination of her head to confirm that this was her sister. On the short journey back she had barely spoken, but when they reached her home she gave a faint smile and thanked them.

‘Would it be all right if we asked you a few questions?’ said Jago.

‘Yes, of course,’ she replied. ‘I’m sure it’s your duty.’

She took a key from her handbag and opened the front door. Inside, the narrow hall was gloomy, and blocked by a hard-faced middle-aged woman with her arms folded intimidatingly across her chest.

‘Hello, Mrs Jenks,’ said Beryl in a tired voice. ‘These gentlemen just want to have a word with me.’

‘You know the rule, Miss Hayes. No gentlemen visitors in your room.’

‘My landlady,’ said Beryl, turning to Jago and raising her eyebrows slightly. She turned back to the woman barring their way.

‘These are police officers, Mrs Jenks.’

Jago extended his warrant card for the landlady’s inspection, and she stepped aside.

‘All right, then,’ she said. ‘But don’t get any ideas, young lady. I’m not having any funny business going on under my roof. It’s bad enough you coming in at all hours of the day and night – I don’t know what the neighbours must think.’

‘But it’s my job, Mrs Jenks. If you work at a cinema you have to come home late in the evening.’

‘That’s as may be, but this is a respectable house, and that’s the way it’s going to stay. They can have ten minutes, and then they’re out, or you’re out with them.’

Beryl led Jago and Cradock past Mrs Jenks and up the stairs, where she opened a brown-painted door.

‘This is my room,’ she said. ‘Do