Read Online Hard Going by Cynthia Harrod-Eagles - Free Book Online

said Plumptre. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised, given that he knew about the law, but I don’t know for a fact that there were. Although, wait …’ He thought of something. ‘I don’t know if it’s relevant, but the only time I knew him to turn down voluntary work was when one of our friends, Molly Shepherd, asked him to get involved in prison counselling with her.’ He looked at Slider. ‘I don’t know if you can draw any conclusions from that. After all, I imagine most people would hesitate about going into that environment. But he turned her down flat. Molly was a bit miffed, but we all thought afterwards that he had so much on his plate, he probably didn’t have the time.’
    ‘And when did that happen?’
    ‘Oh, a long time ago. Must be – I don’t know, at least four years, maybe more. They’re the best of friends now,’ he added gaily, ‘so it didn’t leave any lasting coolness.’ And then it struck him. He faltered. ‘I mean – I suppose I should say they were the best of friends. Oh dear.’ He fumbled out his handkerchief and blew his nose. ‘Do you have any idea who did this ghastly thing?’ he asked.
    ‘We have some leads to follow up,’ he said. Never tell them you haven’t the foggiest. ‘I can’t say more than that at present – you understand.’
    ‘Of course, of course,’ Plumptre said obligingly.
    Slider rewarded him for his compliance by saying, ‘You’ve been the greatest help to us. Thank you for coming in,’ and Plumptre went away happy in the knowledge that he had done his duty.
    When Atherton came back from seeing him out, he found Slider staring at the wall, deep in thought. ‘Well,’ he said. ‘What d’you make of that?’
    Slider came to. ‘I’m wary of making too much of it,’ he said, ‘but there’s a suggestion of a break in Bygod’s life when he moved to Hammersmith. It’s odd for a friend – if Plumptre was a friend – not to know anything at all about one’s previous life. I suppose,’ he added with a sigh, ‘we’ll have to ask some of his other friends as well, in case Plumptre was just the sort you don’t tell things to.’
    ‘Well, at least, if Bygod was a solicitor it’ll be easy to follow that up. No next-of-kin is a bummer.’
    ‘We’ll have to hope there’s something in that document safe, when we get to look at the contents,’ Slider said.
    Atherton sat on Slider’s windowsill, musing, arms folded. Slider, with his keenly-trained professional eye, couldn’t help noticing that he appeared to be wearing the same clothes as yesterday. Slider didn’t know what, if anything, to make of that, especially as he knew Emily was in the States, covering the election campaign for an article. Before Emily, Atherton had tomcatted so dedicatedly he had been named Posturepedic Man of the Year three years running. Surely the new dog couldn’t be up to old tricks? Not my business , he told himself firmly.
    Atherton stirred at last. ‘Am I beginning to see a pattern here?’ he asked.
    Slider said, ‘I’ve always wondered, what is the point of rhetorical questions?’
    Atherton let that opportunity pass. He enumerated on his fingers. ‘Lionel Bygod lived alone. Had no girlfriends. Plumptre talked about his “partner”.’
    ‘Bridge partner,’ Slider reminded him. ‘He was clear about that.’
    ‘Doesn’t mean he wasn’t some other sort of partner as well. Work with me.’ He marked off another finger. ‘The restaurant bod said he was very helpful to a young male waiter.’
    ‘He was married,’ Slider countered with a finger of his own.
    ‘Even if he was, it doesn’t necessarily mean anything, as we both know. There are many with rings on their fingers who dance the other way. And in fact, nobody seems to know anything about this putative wife, so we don’t know for certain that he ever was married.’
    ‘We do now,’ Hollis said, appearing in the doorway in time to catch the last exchange. He waved some folded papers.