Read Online A Series of Murders by Simon Brett - Free Book Online

then, if he was planning a murder, he wouldn’t have balked at lying about his intentions.
    Mort Verdon had stayed chatting with Charles until after the end of the break, so he seemed to be in the clear, but the quiet A.S.M., Tony Rees, had left at the same time as Jimmy Sheet. And, Charles suddenly remembered, Tony Rees had looked very guilty when surprised around the back of the set, just before the discovery of Sippy’s body. Yes, that young man certainly merited investigation.
    But what motive might he have had to kill the actress?
    What motive might any of them have had, come to that?
    Charles scanned the possibilities:
    Rick Landor was having an affair with Sippy Stokes and seemed angry that Jimmy Sheet was trying to ace him out.
    If Jimmy Sheet was involved with her, maybe he had some motive of jealousy or anger.
    Ben Docherty had already made the decision to sack the actress, which surely ruled out any reason for trying to get rid of her prematurely.
    Russell Bentley was unhappy with the recording that they’d done so far, but even for someone with an ego as big as his, it was a little fanciful to imagine that he’d resort to murder to get the episode remade.
    Dilly Muirfield and Will Parton appeared to have no possible motive for killing Sippy Stokes, unless they felt extremely strongly about the effect her dire performance was having on their series. And surely, though television people were notorious for how seriously they took television, that was going a bit far.
    Oh, and then presumably W. T. Wintergreen and her sister might also have been snooping around the set during the coffee break. But again, except for the benefit of ridding the world of a dreadful actress, they didn’t seem to have an obvious motive.
    Insufficient information, Charles concluded. I’m going to have to find out a great deal more before I can start coming to any conclusions about the case. And do a lot more thinking.
    But fortunately he was prevented from doing any more thinking at that moment by the ringing of the phone on the landing.
    â€˜Hello?’
    â€˜Oh, good morning. Is that Charles Paris?’
    â€˜Yes.’
    â€˜This is Winifred Railton speaking.’
    â€˜Oh.’
    His monosyllable must have revealed how little the name meant to him, because the elderly, cultured voice explained, ‘You probably know me better as W. T. Wintergreen.’
    â€˜Oh, yes. Funny, I was just thinking about you.’
    â€˜Nothing bad, I hope?’
    â€˜Ah. Well . . . um . . .’ He couldn’t really say that he’d been assessing her suitability as a murder suspect, could he? ‘No, no, of course not.’
    â€˜Look, Mr. Paris, I was wondering if it would be possible for us to meet.’
    â€˜Yes, I’m sure it would. But we’ll be meeting on Monday at the read-through, anyway, won’t we?’
    â€˜Oh, yes, I’ll certainly be there. But I was meaning meet in a more private way. It’s so impossible to talk on those occasions.’
    â€˜Yes. Well, perhaps a drink after rehearsal . . .’
    â€˜I wondered if you would like to come to tea with me and my sister on Tuesday afternoon,’ W. T. Wintergreen said firmly.
    â€˜Oh. Um . . . Well, I’m not quite sure what the schedule –’
    â€˜I’ve checked. You won’t be required for rehearsal on Tuesday afternoon.’
    â€˜Well, then, what can I say? Yes, of course I’d be delighted. Where would you like to meet?’
    W. T. Wintergreen had it all worked out. ‘If you come to our cottage at half past three, that will be fine.’
    â€˜And where is your cottage?’
    â€˜Ham Common.’
    â€˜Oh.’ Sounded to Charles a hell of a way to go for tea. Still, he’d said yes. And it could be rather interesting.
    â€˜I’ll give you the precise address on Monday. Louisa and I will look forward to seeing you then. I trust you have a pleasant weekend. Good-bye, Mr.