Read Online A Perfect Likeness by Roger Gumbrell - Free Book Online
Authors: Roger Gumbrell
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saw our twin with her boyfriend and is going to draw a sketch of him for us. Maybe it will help, maybe not. Who knows at this stage.’
‘Can we go to Inspector Deckman with this information?’ Jackie was confident Trish would be agreeable.
‘No. All we know at the moment is that Victoria had met this person on a number of occasions and was excited about their closeness of appearance. It doesn’t give us a chance to point a finger, but I think it is a positive start.’
‘I’ll drink to that.’ The glasses clinked over the table. ‘Nice work, Trish.’
‘Thanks, boss, but less talking as I have to be at Victoria’s workplace in an hour, best finish our lunch.’
*
‘I’ll wait in the car, got a new thriller to read. Good luck, Trish.’
As she walked around the side of the building to the main entrance Trish rubbed her fingers along the brickwork. It was a big building, much larger than she expected and older. She brushed her hands together to remove the red brick dust. Almost Victorian, she thought as she turned the corner and saw the front of the works. Her love of Victorian romance novels convinced her that every old building was from that era. The inside, although old, was open plan, spotless and contained what she assumed to be all the latest technology.
‘Hello. Miss Lister, I presume. I’m Christine Eaton, Mr O’Neill’s personal secretary.’ She checked her watch. ‘Thought I’d best meet you and you’re right on time. Excellent. Mr O’Neill insists I meet all visitors as he doesn’t like the idea of them wandering around the print-floor. I don’t think he trusts anyone. If you could follow me please, his office is on the next floor.’
Trish did as instructed and couldn’t help observing the calf length ladder in the secretary’s tights. She considered telling her, but decided against it.
‘Would you mind taking a seat please, just for a few minutes. He’s on the telephone to our salesman in the Middle East. We do an awful lot of work out there you know. Technical books.’
Trish didn’t know and couldn’t be less concerned but she gave one of her special ‘I’m impressed’ expressions. ‘I didn’t think this type of printing company existed any more,’ she said.
‘Competition is tough all right but we are doing very well. Our biggest threat comes from the Far East. They have become very efficient over recent years and… Oh, just a moment.’ She was halted by the sound of her intercom clicking.
‘Christine, if he has arrived, can you ask the policeman to come in now.’
‘It’s not a policeman…’ her voice tailed off as the MD didn’t wait for a response.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll explain who I am,’ said Trish passing through the connecting door.
‘Hello, Constable, I’m Charles O’Neill, how can I help you?’ He looked up from his desk. ‘Oh, you’re not a man, are you?’
‘Good day, Sir, no I’m not a man. Glad you noticed and neither am I a member of the police force. Although I am assured they do employ female officers these days.’ Trish felt an immediate an intense loathing for this man and thought she may have already gone too far.
O’Neill made no comment so Trish continued. ‘I appreciate you taking time to see me, Sir, and I do understand you are very busy.’ Get on with it, Trish , she thought. He’s getting fidgety . ‘I need to ask some questions relating to Victoria Campbell, your personal secretary who was …’
‘Yes, Miss Lester, I am fully aware who Mrs Campbell is, er… was. My secretary told me you wished to speak about an ex-employee. I assumed you were from the police wishing to talk about the cleaner we dismissed last week for stealing a radio belonging to another member of staff and, God knows what else, during his six months with us. I wanted action taken against him.’
‘The name is Lister, Sir, and I am a private investigator employed by the family of Victoria Campbell. I am following up new information
‘Can we go to Inspector Deckman with this information?’ Jackie was confident Trish would be agreeable.
‘No. All we know at the moment is that Victoria had met this person on a number of occasions and was excited about their closeness of appearance. It doesn’t give us a chance to point a finger, but I think it is a positive start.’
‘I’ll drink to that.’ The glasses clinked over the table. ‘Nice work, Trish.’
‘Thanks, boss, but less talking as I have to be at Victoria’s workplace in an hour, best finish our lunch.’
*
‘I’ll wait in the car, got a new thriller to read. Good luck, Trish.’
As she walked around the side of the building to the main entrance Trish rubbed her fingers along the brickwork. It was a big building, much larger than she expected and older. She brushed her hands together to remove the red brick dust. Almost Victorian, she thought as she turned the corner and saw the front of the works. Her love of Victorian romance novels convinced her that every old building was from that era. The inside, although old, was open plan, spotless and contained what she assumed to be all the latest technology.
‘Hello. Miss Lister, I presume. I’m Christine Eaton, Mr O’Neill’s personal secretary.’ She checked her watch. ‘Thought I’d best meet you and you’re right on time. Excellent. Mr O’Neill insists I meet all visitors as he doesn’t like the idea of them wandering around the print-floor. I don’t think he trusts anyone. If you could follow me please, his office is on the next floor.’
Trish did as instructed and couldn’t help observing the calf length ladder in the secretary’s tights. She considered telling her, but decided against it.
‘Would you mind taking a seat please, just for a few minutes. He’s on the telephone to our salesman in the Middle East. We do an awful lot of work out there you know. Technical books.’
Trish didn’t know and couldn’t be less concerned but she gave one of her special ‘I’m impressed’ expressions. ‘I didn’t think this type of printing company existed any more,’ she said.
‘Competition is tough all right but we are doing very well. Our biggest threat comes from the Far East. They have become very efficient over recent years and… Oh, just a moment.’ She was halted by the sound of her intercom clicking.
‘Christine, if he has arrived, can you ask the policeman to come in now.’
‘It’s not a policeman…’ her voice tailed off as the MD didn’t wait for a response.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll explain who I am,’ said Trish passing through the connecting door.
‘Hello, Constable, I’m Charles O’Neill, how can I help you?’ He looked up from his desk. ‘Oh, you’re not a man, are you?’
‘Good day, Sir, no I’m not a man. Glad you noticed and neither am I a member of the police force. Although I am assured they do employ female officers these days.’ Trish felt an immediate an intense loathing for this man and thought she may have already gone too far.
O’Neill made no comment so Trish continued. ‘I appreciate you taking time to see me, Sir, and I do understand you are very busy.’ Get on with it, Trish , she thought. He’s getting fidgety . ‘I need to ask some questions relating to Victoria Campbell, your personal secretary who was …’
‘Yes, Miss Lester, I am fully aware who Mrs Campbell is, er… was. My secretary told me you wished to speak about an ex-employee. I assumed you were from the police wishing to talk about the cleaner we dismissed last week for stealing a radio belonging to another member of staff and, God knows what else, during his six months with us. I wanted action taken against him.’
‘The name is Lister, Sir, and I am a private investigator employed by the family of Victoria Campbell. I am following up new information
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