The Stratford Murder by Mike Hollow (best thriller novels of all time .TXT) 📗
- Author: Mike Hollow
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‘But we don’t have any evidence that she knew anything about the safe job.’
‘That’s true. But wait … supposing there was something going on between Joan and Wilson? He’s pretty soft on her, isn’t he? And he got quite prickly when you asked him how close he was to her. Maybe he was in love with her, but she refused to be unfaithful to her husband, so he killed her in a jealous rage.’
‘That sounds a bit like a movie script. But in any case, did he have an opportunity to murder Joan? He was at the cinema all night, fire watching.’
‘Yes, but you heard what that AFS bloke Evans said. He reckoned some of those fire watchers aren’t above sloping off for a rest or a sleep, so why not slope off for a jealous murder?’
‘It’s possible, as long as he was back in time to be jumped on by a pair of safe-breakers. But his economic argument about risking eighteen months’ hard labour for a twenty-pound cut was quite persuasive, wasn’t it?’
‘He wouldn’t be the first crook to take on odds like that – especially if he thought he could get away with it. And Wilson was the only person with a lawful reason to be on the premises that night, wasn’t he? Perfect cover.’
‘Possibly. We’ll see. Now, anything else to report before we go out?’
‘Yes, sir. I checked up on those moneylending things, like you said – the certificate of good character and the excise licence. No record of either for Charlie Lewis, so I reckon his business was very private, like Bert Wilson said. He must’ve been an interesting character.’
‘Yes, Audrey may claim he left her with no financial worries, but I doubt his clients would say the same. I’ve come across his sort before – they buy up bad debts for two-and-six in the pound, then use their powers of persuasion to get the debtors to pay them back the full pound on everything they owe.’
‘And by powers of persuasion you mean Bert Wilson?’
‘Yes. Not quite the gentle giant we might’ve taken him for after all.’
‘A nasty business.’
‘Indeed it is, and it sounds like Charlie Lewis was a nasty character. But he’s somewhere we can’t get hold of him now. We need to focus on the living.’
‘What’s next, then, guv’nor?’
‘I think it’s time we took a little stroll round to Cross Street to see whether we can catch young Beryl Hayes at home before she goes to work.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
At Beryl’s lodgings Jago and Cradock navigated their way safely round the landlady and climbed the stairs to her door, where they were greeted by a bleary-eyed Beryl.
‘I’m sorry, Inspector,’ she said. ‘I’m not long out of bed. It was a bit noisy last night, and I didn’t sleep well.’
‘The anti-aircraft guns?’ said Jago.
‘No,’ she replied, lowering her voice almost to a whisper. ‘It was Mrs Jenks, my landlady. She sleeps in the next room – I think it’s her way of making sure I don’t break her “no gentlemen visitors” rule. The thing is, she snores like a … Well, let’s just say she snores very loudly. I’m starting late today, though, so I managed to have a bit of a lie-in.’
‘I’m sorry if we’ve prevented you getting your sleep.’
‘No, I was up and dressed before you arrived, as you can see.’
She was indeed dressed, and very well, in a smartly cut woollen suit. Surprisingly well, thought Jago, for a woman living in such humble surroundings. But then a lot of young women seemed to spend most of their income on clothes, in his limited experience.
‘Can I get you a cup of tea?’ said Beryl. ‘I was just about to make one.’
‘No, thank you,’ Jago replied. ‘We won’t be here long.’
‘All right. So how can I help you?’
‘Well, I’m afraid I have to raise a delicate matter with you. I didn’t like to mention it when we first spoke, as you’d only just heard what’d happened to Joan, but the fact is, the way your sister was killed bore some of the hallmarks of a number of other murders that’ve taken place over recent years. Please understand that this may have nothing to do with your sister’s death, but in those cases most of the women were prostitutes, one of them from East Ham. So I have to ask you – do you have any reason to suspect that your sister might’ve been involved in that kind of activity?’
Beryl’s eyes widened. ‘You’re saying my sister was a prostitute?’
‘No, I’m not saying she was anything. I’m simply asking the question.’
‘Of course she wasn’t. Honestly, you policemen always think the worst of people. No, Joan would never do that. I don’t think she’d ever have dreamt of it. Anyway, she had a job, didn’t she?’
‘Yes, of course, and I apologise for having to ask such an insensitive question. But it’s not unknown for wives to be tempted in times like these – their husbands are away at war overseas, and they have to cope with all the pressures of life on their own. And you did say she was lonely.’
‘Well, that’s as may be, but it was natural for her to feel lonely if her husband was away overseas and missing. Look, I can assure you I have no reason to believe my sister had anything whatsoever to do with prostitution, and I hope that answer’s clear enough for you.’
‘Thank you, and again I’m sorry. I had no wish to upset you.’
‘Yes, well never mind.’
‘I must also ask you another rather delicate question.’
‘Go on, then.’
‘When I spoke to you before, I asked you if your sister had any male friends, and you said you weren’t aware of her being close to any men in particular. But since then it’s been suggested to us that your manager,
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