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

what Joan said, Audrey never did that. It was like she already had one daughter, and a son, and that was all she wanted or needed.’

‘She didn’t mention she had a daughter when we spoke to her.’

‘Well, she has, although I’ve never met her either. She’s called Elsie, a couple of years younger than her brother. Lives at her mum’s place with her husband and works in a pub – mainly evenings, I believe. The Green Man, on the corner of Stratford High Street and Carpenters Road. Don’t know what days, though.’

‘Tell me, please – when did you last see Joan?’

‘Last night. We were both at the Regal.’

‘When we were at the cinema with you and Mr Conway he said Joan hadn’t been feeling well last night and he’d told her she could go home as soon as the national anthem had finished, which would’ve been just after nine o’clock. Did you see her leave?’

‘No, I didn’t. When I said I was at the Regal I didn’t mean I was working. I was off last night, but I went with my boyfriend to watch the film.’

‘Isn’t that an odd thing to do when you work there? Hadn’t you seen the film already?’

Beryl giggled, but then seemed to remember she was talking to a police officer and composed herself.

‘I hadn’t seen it all the way through – I mean you don’t when you’re working, do you? Besides, he lives at home with his dad, and you can see I could never bring him back here, but I can get boys into the Regal for free, if I’m careful. It doesn’t really matter much to me whether I’ve seen bits of the films before. The cinema’s a good place if you want to have a nice time together, in the dark, if you know what I mean.’

Jago had a good enough idea of what she meant not to enquire further.

‘But anyway,’ she continued, ‘even when we’re both working at the same time I don’t necessarily always see her go. This place is the opposite direction to Joan’s flat from the Regal, so it’s not as though we were in the habit of walking home together or anything.’

‘So did she normally walk home on her own?’

‘As far as I know, yes.’

‘Did she have any friends? Close friends, I mean.’

‘I’m not sure – I didn’t know everything about her life, so she may’ve done. To be honest, though, I think she was lonely. You know her husband’s a soldier, missing in France?’

‘Yes, Mrs Lewis told us that, too.’

‘Well, I think since Richard went away she’s felt even less part of the family. I don’t think they’ve rallied round her, like some would. Mind you, to tell the truth, I don’t think her marriage was exactly Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers, even when he was here. Not entirely happy, if you know what I mean. I got the impression there was something wrong, but I couldn’t tell you what it was.’

‘Do you know whether Joan had any men friends?’

‘What do you mean? She was married.’

‘Of course, yes, but we need to find out who was in her circle of acquaintances – just to eliminate them from our enquiries.’

‘Well, if you must ask, I don’t know of any close male friends. But then she wouldn’t tell me, would she? I was her little sister.’

‘What about close female friends?’

Beryl thought for a few moments. ‘There’s one person I can think of who seemed to be quite good friends with Joan. I’ve met her a couple of times. She’s called Carol something – Hurst, I think. Yes, that’s it, Carol Hurst. I don’t know where she lives, but she works at the National Provincial Bank on the High Street.’

‘Thank you, that’s very helpful. Now, before we go, do you recall Joan being worried about anything recently?’

‘No, I don’t think so.’

‘Or anything about her behaviour that struck you as out of the ordinary?’

‘No, it just seemed to be life as usual, except for her moving from the Broadway to the Regal.’ She thought for a moment. ‘There was just one thing, though. Hang on a minute.’

She crossed the room to the bed, knelt down and felt beneath it, then hauled something out and handed it to Jago.

‘This was a bit odd,’ she said.

Jago looked it over. It was a cardboard suitcase, scratched and dented on one side, with the result that the lid barely fitted it.

‘Have a look inside,’ she said. ‘Joan asked me to look after this when she moved out of her mother-in-law’s place. Said she didn’t want the old girl coming round to her new flat and finding some excuse to nose around.’

Jago put the case on the table and opened it. Carefully emptying its contents onto the table, he found some items of strange-looking clothing: a green tunic, a green hood, a green pair of shorts and a leather belt.

‘Odd, isn’t it?’ said Beryl. ‘I’ve no idea what it is, and Joan never said why she didn’t want Audrey to find it.’

‘Odd indeed,’ said Jago. ‘If you don’t mind, I’d like to take this away with me.’

‘Be my guest,’ Beryl replied with a shrug. ‘This place is pokey enough as it is, without cluttering it up with someone’s old fancy dress costumes.’

CHAPTER NINE

Cross Street was quiet, almost deserted. The only sound was the dreary cry of the rag and bone man and the clip-clop of the horse pulling his cart slowly round the corner from Mark Street. Jago stood for a moment, thinking, then thrust the suitcase into Cradock’s hand.

‘Here, take this,’ he said. ‘You can look after it till we get to the station. We need to pop back to the cinema and see if we can get a word with that secretary, Cynthia Carlton, in private. I’ve got a feeling she might be able to add something to the pot if her boss isn’t hanging around listening to her every word.’

They returned to the Regal and found Conway at his desk in the