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

Mr Conway, has what might be called an eye for the ladies, and may have had a particular interest in your sister. Do you know anything about that?’

‘An eye for the ladies? I’d say that’s a fair description. Have you heard about his inspections?’

‘We’ve been told he’s very particular about the staff’s appearance.’

‘Yes, he is, and he’s especially keen to check the appearance of the female staff. Very thorough, if you ask me, getting all the usherettes lined up and checking their seams are straight. Quite the perfectionist.’

‘Are you suggesting his attention to detail goes beyond the requirements of his duties as a manager?’

Beryl responded to his question with a knowing smile. ‘That’s a nice way of putting it, Inspector. The way he studies our details, you’d think he was going to paint us in oils. But then that’s the thing – I think he fancies himself as some sort of artist, and you know what those artists are like for painting women.’

‘An artist? I understood his interest was in photography.’

‘Yes, well, I don’t mean he actually does paintings. I mean I think he likes taking photos. Artistic photos. That’s what they call them, isn’t it? Like those postcards you hear about. He’s keen on that kind of photography. The other usherettes warned me when I started there – said he likes the girls to model for him. Cheeky monkey, I thought. Let him try and get me to pose. I reckon that’s what he had in that safe, you know – his private art collection, saucy snaps of any girl stupid enough to fall for his tricks.’

‘Did Joan ever mention this?’

‘I can’t remember her saying. I think she must’ve been aware of it, but if you mean did he try it on with her, my guess would be no. I think he was a bit wary of asking the married women – you never know who might turn out to have a boxer for a husband. Mind you, he found a job for Joan fast enough when the Broadway Super was bombed, didn’t he? Very attentive. Saucy Sid – that’s what the girls call him.’

‘But you’re not aware of any close relationship between Joan and Mr Conway. Is that right?’

‘To be honest, I don’t know. She certainly never told me. If you want to ask that sort of question, you’d better talk to Cynthia Carlton. She seems to know everything about everyone else’s business at the cinema.’

‘Actually it was something Miss Carlton said that first suggested there might’ve been something between them, although I hasten to add she didn’t make any specific allegation.’

‘There you are, then. There’s nothing that woman likes more than a bit of juicy gossip. The only time she doesn’t like gossip is when it’s about her, and there’s plenty of that – about her and Mr Conway, too.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘If you don’t mind, I’d rather not say. I don’t like gossip, and I don’t pass it on when I hear it.’

‘Quite.’

‘Not that there isn’t things I could tell you if I had a mind to. Especially about that family Joan married into. For instance, did you know Audrey’s husband was some kind of moneylender?’

‘It has been said.’

‘Oh, right. Shocking, isn’t it? And her so respectable. And that Madame Zara?’

‘Her name has been mentioned. Do you know her?’

‘Not personally, no. But apparently Audrey’s obsessed with finding her husband’s money, only she can’t, because he hid it. Since he dropped dead no one’s been able to find it, so she thought if she got this Madame Zara to have a seance she could get in touch with the other side – that’s what they call it – and someone over there might tell her where to look. Funny idea if you ask me, asking dead people questions like that, but it takes all sorts, doesn’t it?’

‘And what about Richard, Joan’s husband? Did he believe his father had hidden his money somewhere?’

‘I don’t think so. Joan never mentioned it, anyway. She did go to see Madame Zara herself once, though.’

‘Why was that?’

‘I think Audrey persuaded her to go along, to see if she could tell them anything about what’d happened to Richard – Joan hadn’t heard a thing. Not that being in the dark was anything new for her – I’m not sure Richard even told her he was joining the TA in the first place.’

‘Really? What makes you think that?’

‘Oh, nothing really. It wasn’t anything anyone said, just an impression I got. I may be wrong. But anyway, maybe Madame Zara thought the spirits would be more forthcoming if his wife and mother were both asking – I don’t know.’

Jago moved to the room’s one small window. The streaks of grime suggested it hadn’t been cleaned for a long time. He looked down as a few spots of rain began to land on it, and saw only the backs of similar houses in the next road. He turned back to Beryl.

‘Do you know where this Madame Zara lives?’

‘Yes. Joan told me. It’s 77 Eleanor Road. I remember that, because seven’s my lucky number, and I thought an address like that might be double lucky, especially if your name’s Eleanor. But mine isn’t, of course. And by the way, I don’t think Madame Zara’s her real name. Joan said it was just made up – she’s really called Vera. I’ve never met her, mind, so I just took Joan’s word for it.’

‘What happened when Joan went to see her?’

‘She didn’t say. I don’t know whether she believed in that kind of thing. Audrey certainly did, though, as far as I can tell. As for Madame Zara, or Vera or whatever her name is, I reckon she’s just been taking money off a foolish old woman. But if that gives Audrey some pleasure or comfort, let her do it, that’s what I say. It’s a free country.’

‘Do you have any reason to think Madame Zara is deliberately trying to deceive her?’

‘No. I just reckon Audrey can’t get used