Read Online A Dangerous Deceit by Marjorie Eccles - Free Book Online Page A

mind, however, while we look at this other one.’ He stood up and stretched his legs. ‘Meantime, is there any possibility there might be a bigger room – or possibly a smaller desk – available for me to work from? Since you might be going to have me round your necks for longer than you imagined.’
    Joe grinned. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’ Waterhouse is going to love all this, he thought, but managed not to say it. When the DI returned and learnt that Joe had previously worked with Reardon, he would be sarcastic enough and all too likely to believe Joe had taken advantage of his absence to put himself forward. ‘Hope I didn’t speak out of turn, sir. It
could
be a fairly unlikely lead, I suppose. Until we know why Aston was killed.’
    â€˜Detection’s full of unlikely leads.’
    â€˜But two murders, not two months apart, with nothing to connect them after all, except possibly a brass foundry …
might
be just a coincidence.’
    â€˜You don’t believe that, Gilmour, any more than I do.’
    â€˜Not really, sir.’
    Reardon smiled slightly. ‘In this instance we won’t dismiss the possibility that coincidences can be helpful. Stand by your convictions, Sergeant. And meantime, I’ll see if I can’t get a look at DI Micklejohn’s original notes.’
    Joe remembered Micklejohn: easy-going, coasting towards retirement after thirty years’ service. Not wanting to upset the apple cart at that stage, and not really worried that he’d be leaving with his last case unsolved, either. He’d left with the investigation still continuing. Enquiries had gone on in a perfunctory way, but nothing had ever turned up, resulting finally in the decision by the top brass to wrap the enquiries up.
    Reardon asked suddenly, ‘You’ve another sergeant on the strength here? Longton, isn’t it?’
    â€˜That’s right. Just the two of us.’
    â€˜Think he could cope, if you were assigned to this investigation?’
    Joe fought to keep his face from splitting into a grin. ‘Yes, sir.’ Comfortably ensconced in what was becoming his permanent position on the front desk, Longton wouldn’t exactly jump with joy at the prospect of extra work and having to leg it around – unless it was pointed out to him that it might help him to shed the surplus pounds around his waistline.
    â€˜Right. Then maybe you should leave the uniform at home tomorrow.’
    Even better. Joe turned with his hand on the doorknob. ‘Er, there’s just one more thing, sir. That reporter from the
Herald
…’
    â€˜Which one?’
    â€˜They only have one – apart from the editor himself and a photographer they hire from the Orthochrome when they need one, plus a young lad. The reporter’s a
woman.
Judy Cash. She’s always hanging around the station here. She’s out for a scoop, and if she connects Aston’s death with the Snowman, well … She was the one who dubbed him that, for some reason.’
    â€˜That’s what they do, the press … drumming up readers. Beefing up the situation, giving the unknown victim an identity.’
    â€˜I suppose so,’ Joe said doubtfully. ‘She also kept hinting we weren’t doing enough to find out who he was.’
    â€˜Well, keep her at bay. Don’t let her get the idea we’re not doing enough this time.’
    â€˜Easier said than done, sir. She might look like the fairy on the Christmas tree but that doesn’t fool anybody. Keeping at bay a panther on the prowl would be easier.’
    â€˜You’re mixing your metaphors, Sergeant. Never mind, keep at it.’
    From the
Folbury and District Herald
:
    Folbury Police were called in yesterday to look into the accidental death of Mr Arthur Aston, fifty-three, well known in the area as the owner of Aston’s Engineering Company, who was found dead in the foundry adjacent to