Read Online Angel and the Actress by Roger Silverwood - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Roger Silverwood
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busy on the Joan Minter murder.
Crisp had dealt with most of the matters of importance. He told Angel that he had shown Mrs Sellars their rogues’ gallery but that she had been unable to identify the crook who had taken her attention while his accomplice had stolen her handbag. He also reported all he could about the theft of the two cars from Mr and Mrs Sellars.
The phone rang.
Angel reached out for it. It was DS Taylor. ‘The results of the gunshot residue tests have just arrived by courier, sir.’
Angel said, ‘Well, bring them down. I want to know what they say!’
He slammed down the phone and turned back to Crisp.
The phone rang again.
Angel frowned at it, then snatched it up. It was the station civilian telephone receptionist, Mrs Meredew. ‘There’s an emergency call from Slater Security on the line, sir.’
‘Put them through,’ he said.
A man said, ‘We’ve had a brief automated emergency message from one of our vans, two or three miles awayfrom you. It’s at a crossroads between the villages of Hemmsfield and Indale. They were making their way south to join the M1 south along Hemmsfield Road.’
Angel jumped to his feet. ‘One moment, sir, please,’ he said. He put a hand over the mouthpiece, turned to Crisp and said, ‘Get Control to listen in to this and issue a red alarm.’
Crisp dashed out of the office.
Then Angel turned to the wall behind his desk that had a large map of the local area. In a second he had picked out the crossroads.
He removed his hand from the mouthpiece. ‘A patrol car is on its way there now, sir,’ he said. ‘Our Control Room is being made aware of this emergency and is now sharing this call. The incident is at Bromersley Station map reference A1257 by K209. Have you contact with your van?’
‘No. Both radio links with the van itself are dead. It’s very unusual. Our communication manager is trying to raise them via the drivers’ mobile phones.’
‘If you succeed, advise our Control Room promptly and put them in the picture. What is your name?’
‘I’m the manager here at the Leeds depot,’ he said. ‘Reader’s my name, Mathew Reader.’
‘Thank you, Mr Reader. We’ll do what we can,’ Angel said, and he replaced the phone.
Crisp came running in. ‘Patrol car on the way, sir.’
Angel said, ‘Right. Get out there. See what’s happened. Then report to me.’
‘Right, sir,’ he said, and he went out.
Don Taylor caught the door. He was carrying severalA4 sheets of paper. He knocked on it and said, ‘Can I come in?’
Angel’s eyebrows went up. ‘Yes. Yes. Ah, the GSR results. What do they say, Don?’
Taylor looked down at the top sheet and said, ‘I haven’t read it myself yet, sir.’
Angel quietly said, ‘Well, sit down, read it and tell me what it says.’
When he was settled, Taylor said. ‘It says …’
He quickly broke off, turned over the first four pages to the last page and began to read again. ‘It says the conclusions are … that of the persons tested for the presence of cartridge residue on their clothing, three of them had relatively large quantities. They are Felix Lubrecki, Leo Altman and Erick Cartlett. Also Alexander Trott was found to have minute traces of lead, antimony and barium in the sample submitted, which of course are the constituents of a bullet, which we found unusual. We suggest that the paraffin wax test be applied without delay to the four persons mentioned, which may immediately show up the person or persons who discharged a firearm up to seventy-two hours prior to the test being made.’
Angel looked at him and blinked. ‘Is that it?’ he said.
Taylor looked back at him. ‘Yes, sir. The other pages are full of the safeguards that we should implement to prevent cross-infection. There are also long paragraphs saying that we shouldn’t rely on the test too much and it should be used only to corroborate existing evidence of eye witnesses.’
Angel’s eyebrows went skywards. ‘We
Crisp had dealt with most of the matters of importance. He told Angel that he had shown Mrs Sellars their rogues’ gallery but that she had been unable to identify the crook who had taken her attention while his accomplice had stolen her handbag. He also reported all he could about the theft of the two cars from Mr and Mrs Sellars.
The phone rang.
Angel reached out for it. It was DS Taylor. ‘The results of the gunshot residue tests have just arrived by courier, sir.’
Angel said, ‘Well, bring them down. I want to know what they say!’
He slammed down the phone and turned back to Crisp.
The phone rang again.
Angel frowned at it, then snatched it up. It was the station civilian telephone receptionist, Mrs Meredew. ‘There’s an emergency call from Slater Security on the line, sir.’
‘Put them through,’ he said.
A man said, ‘We’ve had a brief automated emergency message from one of our vans, two or three miles awayfrom you. It’s at a crossroads between the villages of Hemmsfield and Indale. They were making their way south to join the M1 south along Hemmsfield Road.’
Angel jumped to his feet. ‘One moment, sir, please,’ he said. He put a hand over the mouthpiece, turned to Crisp and said, ‘Get Control to listen in to this and issue a red alarm.’
Crisp dashed out of the office.
Then Angel turned to the wall behind his desk that had a large map of the local area. In a second he had picked out the crossroads.
He removed his hand from the mouthpiece. ‘A patrol car is on its way there now, sir,’ he said. ‘Our Control Room is being made aware of this emergency and is now sharing this call. The incident is at Bromersley Station map reference A1257 by K209. Have you contact with your van?’
‘No. Both radio links with the van itself are dead. It’s very unusual. Our communication manager is trying to raise them via the drivers’ mobile phones.’
‘If you succeed, advise our Control Room promptly and put them in the picture. What is your name?’
‘I’m the manager here at the Leeds depot,’ he said. ‘Reader’s my name, Mathew Reader.’
‘Thank you, Mr Reader. We’ll do what we can,’ Angel said, and he replaced the phone.
Crisp came running in. ‘Patrol car on the way, sir.’
Angel said, ‘Right. Get out there. See what’s happened. Then report to me.’
‘Right, sir,’ he said, and he went out.
Don Taylor caught the door. He was carrying severalA4 sheets of paper. He knocked on it and said, ‘Can I come in?’
Angel’s eyebrows went up. ‘Yes. Yes. Ah, the GSR results. What do they say, Don?’
Taylor looked down at the top sheet and said, ‘I haven’t read it myself yet, sir.’
Angel quietly said, ‘Well, sit down, read it and tell me what it says.’
When he was settled, Taylor said. ‘It says …’
He quickly broke off, turned over the first four pages to the last page and began to read again. ‘It says the conclusions are … that of the persons tested for the presence of cartridge residue on their clothing, three of them had relatively large quantities. They are Felix Lubrecki, Leo Altman and Erick Cartlett. Also Alexander Trott was found to have minute traces of lead, antimony and barium in the sample submitted, which of course are the constituents of a bullet, which we found unusual. We suggest that the paraffin wax test be applied without delay to the four persons mentioned, which may immediately show up the person or persons who discharged a firearm up to seventy-two hours prior to the test being made.’
Angel looked at him and blinked. ‘Is that it?’ he said.
Taylor looked back at him. ‘Yes, sir. The other pages are full of the safeguards that we should implement to prevent cross-infection. There are also long paragraphs saying that we shouldn’t rely on the test too much and it should be used only to corroborate existing evidence of eye witnesses.’
Angel’s eyebrows went skywards. ‘We
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