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

They found a table in a quiet corner of the tea room, and Jago ordered tea and toasted tea cakes for all three of them.

‘I don’t want to keep you long, Miss Hurst,’ he said. ‘I expect you’ve had a tiring day and you’ll be wanting to get home before the sirens start, but there’s just a couple of things I’d like to ask you. First I must thank you for introducing us to your manager, Mr Pemberton, the other day. He was most helpful in explaining social credit to us.’

‘Did you understand it, then?’ said Carol with a barely suppressed giggle. ‘It sounds like just giving everyone money for nothing, and I can’t see that ever happening. But as long as you got what you wanted, that’s fine.’

‘We got enough for our purposes, I think. When we spoke to you before, you said Joan agreed with Richard’s convictions about social credit, but his father didn’t. Did Joan ever give any indication of what their disagreement was about?’

‘She mentioned it, but I’m not sure I followed it all. From what I remember, she said the idea with social credit was that the government would give ordinary people money for nothing, so they could spend it and keep the economy going, and Richard reckoned that’d be good for everyone.’

‘But his father didn’t?’

‘No. Charlie reckoned it was like fairy tales – something only children and fools would believe in. He said he’d worked hard for his money – although as I told you before, he didn’t believe in sharing it, especially not with the taxman, and possibly not even with his wife. Joan used to say Charlie reckoned it sounded like the communists in Russia or the fascists in Germany – both lots said they could abolish unemployment and create jobs for everyone, but they could only do that by ruining their economies. He said private enterprise and capitalism were the only things that could create prosperity. That’s about all I can remember. Joan told me Richard would get quite cross about it. He said it’s all very well to say capitalism works when you’re the one with the money, but there can’t be prosperity if you don’t share it. Apparently he had a big row with his dad about dodging his taxes, and they ended up not speaking to each other.’

‘And Joan supported Richard in all this, you say.’

‘Well, yes, but I can’t say Joan ever struck me as an expert on economics. I mean, she was an usherette, not a bank manager. That’s how they first met, actually, her and Richard. He saw her at the pictures, when she was working, and chatted her up. That was two years ago, I think. They wanted to get married, but apparently Richard’s dad disapproved. Wanted something better for his son, I suppose. But then he died sometime later that year and couldn’t disapprove any more, so they got married at the beginning of last year. I was there – at the wedding, I mean. It was a freezing cold day. Nothing fancy – just a quick, simple affair at the register office.’

A waitress in a blue dress brought their drinks and tea cakes and deposited them on the table with a smile, then left.

‘How did the rest of the family take to that?’ Jago continued.

‘Him marrying her, you mean? There wasn’t any fuss that I noticed. They seemed pretty indifferent – but then Charlie’d just died, and Audrey was very cut up about losing him, so I suppose she was more preoccupied with that.’

‘But you implied before that Joan’s relationship with Audrey was somewhat strained – “It wasn’t all roses,” I think you said.’

‘Yes. Mind you, I was only looking in from the outside, wasn’t I? It didn’t seem very good to me, but then again their circumstances weren’t ideal. I mean, they were living in his mother’s house. Are you married, Inspector?’

‘No.’

‘Well, neither am I, and never have been, but like I said, it’s well known, isn’t it? If you marry a man and have to live under your mother-in-law’s roof there’s always going to be trouble. You can’t have two women ruling the roost in a household, or in a marriage, and if your mother-in-law won’t let her little boy go, how can he ever be a proper husband?’

She seemed to wait for agreement, but Jago treated her question as rhetorical. Confronted by his silence, she continued.

‘I told you before that I thought Audrey was possessive, and she was – the sort of mother who thinks the apron strings are a fixture for life. Joan used to say Audrey would insist on baking his favourite cakes for him and giving them to him in front of her as if to make out she was incapable of pleasing him. I think things got a bit tense sometimes, and the reason why Joan moved out was because she wanted to be herself.’

‘But that was after Richard had been posted to France. Why didn’t they set up their own home before?’

‘Money, I suppose – lack of. He didn’t earn a packet, you know. And of course that was the other reason why they had to wait to get married. You know what the banks are like.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, they don’t let their clerks marry until they’re earning two hundred pounds a year.’

Jago had heard of this before, but it seemed to be news to Cradock, who opened his mouth as if to ask a question. Carol answered before he could get the words to his lips.

‘Don’t laugh, Constable. It’s because a clerk starts on a hundred and twenty a year – less if it’s a woman, of course – and the banks think that’s not enough for him to support a wife, so they won’t let him get married until it’s crept up to two hundred, which takes about five years. They’re worried that if he gets married when his salary’s below that, he might put his