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Authors: Alan Hunter
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KINCAID SAGA
Supt. Gently Visits Bow Street Surprise Enquiries at Hendon
‘That’s one in the eye for our friend, Mr Stanley.’
Evans snorted. He was reading the item over Gently’s shoulder. He was much intrigued by the accompanying picture, which showed himself and Gently alightingfrom the Wolseley. Gently gave him the paper and sat down. He’d seen too many of these things.
‘Was the lady on record?’ he asked Dutt.
‘Yessir.’ Dutt drew out his notebook. ‘But she wasn’t under the name you gave me, though.’
‘Wasn’t she then? So how did you get on to her?’
‘What you might call coincidence, sir. One of the maids there used to work for her, and I chanced to catch her at the desk.’
‘Good for you.’
Gently nodded congratulations and Dutt looked pleased. Evans tore himself away from the picture to stare interrogatively at the sergeant. Dutt continued:
‘She gives the name of Mrs Sterling, sir, but the maid knew well enough that she was Arthur Fleece’s missus. Said she lived at Thames Ditton and was wife of the bloke what was murdered – about forty, a smart sort of woman, wears her hair dyed black.’
Evans groaned. ‘That’s her, man.’
Dutt turned over a page. ‘She booked in at the Suffolk on 16th September and left again last Monday. She was in a bit of a hurry.’
‘September 16th?’
‘Yessir. That’s correct.’
Gently met Evans’s eye. ‘So she was there for three weeks … Was she absent during that time?’
‘No sir. She never went out much. Just shopping and such-like, and once or twice to a show. She used to write a lot of letters and she used the phone quite a bit, but it was always the paybox in the hall, so I couldn’t trace the calls.’
‘What about visitors?’
‘Yessir, I made a note of them. She had her kids there the first weekend; twins they are, about eleven or twelve. Then there was an elderly, professional bloke who called to see her a couple of times – a grey-haired geezer, on the tall side, wore a black suit and carried a briefcase. That’s the lot, apart from a bloke who drove her home once or twice. But he never got out of his car so I couldn’t get his particulars.’
‘Did you get a description of the car?’
‘Yessir. A sports job.’
‘A green and cream Austin-Healey?’
‘The porter didn’t notice, sir.’
‘That’s a pity. What happened on Monday?’
‘She got a trunk call, sir, from Llanberis. It came in around half-past five when she was having tea in the lounge. She took the call at the hall desk and the clerk moved off so’s not to look nosey, but from the way she behaved he’s pretty certain what it was about. She turned as pale as a ghost and ordered a double brandy. Then she went up and packed, and she was off by half-past six.’
‘Any other details?’
‘She had a letter on most days, sir. The address was typewritten, to Mrs Sterling, and they were posted in the London area.’
‘Thanks, Dutt. You’ve done a nice job.’
‘Just a bit of routine, sir.’
‘Tell them to send us up a snack, will you? We’re going to wait here for a call.’
Dutt departed, leaving his paper as a souvenir forEvans. But the big Welshman was no longer enthralled by his front-page billing. He said mournfully:
‘It either means something or else it does not – and either way I can’t see it helping Myfanw Evans.’
‘How do you read it?’ Gently asked.
Evans laid a finger to his nose. ‘A divorce, man, large as life. Fleece was preparing to give her the push.’
‘But if she happened to be Paula Kincaid?’
‘Stop rubbing it in. I can see a barn door. If she happened to be Paula Kincaid then the marriage was probably void in any case.’
Gently shook his head. ‘I’m not so sure. It’s a legal point worth settling. But his reason for divorcing her seems plain enough. She has a boyfriend in the offing.’
‘And he could be an Everest Club member.’
‘That’s almost certain on the facts. The call
Supt. Gently Visits Bow Street Surprise Enquiries at Hendon
‘That’s one in the eye for our friend, Mr Stanley.’
Evans snorted. He was reading the item over Gently’s shoulder. He was much intrigued by the accompanying picture, which showed himself and Gently alightingfrom the Wolseley. Gently gave him the paper and sat down. He’d seen too many of these things.
‘Was the lady on record?’ he asked Dutt.
‘Yessir.’ Dutt drew out his notebook. ‘But she wasn’t under the name you gave me, though.’
‘Wasn’t she then? So how did you get on to her?’
‘What you might call coincidence, sir. One of the maids there used to work for her, and I chanced to catch her at the desk.’
‘Good for you.’
Gently nodded congratulations and Dutt looked pleased. Evans tore himself away from the picture to stare interrogatively at the sergeant. Dutt continued:
‘She gives the name of Mrs Sterling, sir, but the maid knew well enough that she was Arthur Fleece’s missus. Said she lived at Thames Ditton and was wife of the bloke what was murdered – about forty, a smart sort of woman, wears her hair dyed black.’
Evans groaned. ‘That’s her, man.’
Dutt turned over a page. ‘She booked in at the Suffolk on 16th September and left again last Monday. She was in a bit of a hurry.’
‘September 16th?’
‘Yessir. That’s correct.’
Gently met Evans’s eye. ‘So she was there for three weeks … Was she absent during that time?’
‘No sir. She never went out much. Just shopping and such-like, and once or twice to a show. She used to write a lot of letters and she used the phone quite a bit, but it was always the paybox in the hall, so I couldn’t trace the calls.’
‘What about visitors?’
‘Yessir, I made a note of them. She had her kids there the first weekend; twins they are, about eleven or twelve. Then there was an elderly, professional bloke who called to see her a couple of times – a grey-haired geezer, on the tall side, wore a black suit and carried a briefcase. That’s the lot, apart from a bloke who drove her home once or twice. But he never got out of his car so I couldn’t get his particulars.’
‘Did you get a description of the car?’
‘Yessir. A sports job.’
‘A green and cream Austin-Healey?’
‘The porter didn’t notice, sir.’
‘That’s a pity. What happened on Monday?’
‘She got a trunk call, sir, from Llanberis. It came in around half-past five when she was having tea in the lounge. She took the call at the hall desk and the clerk moved off so’s not to look nosey, but from the way she behaved he’s pretty certain what it was about. She turned as pale as a ghost and ordered a double brandy. Then she went up and packed, and she was off by half-past six.’
‘Any other details?’
‘She had a letter on most days, sir. The address was typewritten, to Mrs Sterling, and they were posted in the London area.’
‘Thanks, Dutt. You’ve done a nice job.’
‘Just a bit of routine, sir.’
‘Tell them to send us up a snack, will you? We’re going to wait here for a call.’
Dutt departed, leaving his paper as a souvenir forEvans. But the big Welshman was no longer enthralled by his front-page billing. He said mournfully:
‘It either means something or else it does not – and either way I can’t see it helping Myfanw Evans.’
‘How do you read it?’ Gently asked.
Evans laid a finger to his nose. ‘A divorce, man, large as life. Fleece was preparing to give her the push.’
‘But if she happened to be Paula Kincaid?’
‘Stop rubbing it in. I can see a barn door. If she happened to be Paula Kincaid then the marriage was probably void in any case.’
Gently shook his head. ‘I’m not so sure. It’s a legal point worth settling. But his reason for divorcing her seems plain enough. She has a boyfriend in the offing.’
‘And he could be an Everest Club member.’
‘That’s almost certain on the facts. The call
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