Read Online Murder on Charing Cross Road by Joan Smith - Free Book Online

didn’t happen to see anyone calling on Bolton yesterday?”
    “No, I wouldn’t see him from down here. I heard footsteps, but that’d be my people coming home from work and going out for the night.”
    “Anyone in the place he was friends with? I’d like to talk about it with someone who knew him. Find out about the funeral.”
    “He was a quiet lad, out and about a good deal of the time. Kept pretty much to hisself when he was in.”
    “No friends at all? That don’t sound like Harry.”
    “As I just told you, he was out most of the time. I’ve seen him having a word with young McRaney a few times. He’s in 302.”
    “Would he be in now, or is he a working man?”
    “You might get lucky. He don’t seem to keep regular hours. He’s out often in the evenings.”
    “Before I go, could I have a look at your list of occupants? I might know someone.”As he spoke, he put his hand in his pocket and jingled some coins to indicate he’d make it worth Tobin’s while.
    A smile creased Tobin’s saturnine face. “No harm in that surely,”he said, and went to ferret around a desk for the list. Coffen scanned it, looking for a familiar name or a ‘mor’, although he had no reason to believe Mor might be living in the building. He found no familiar name, and no 'Mor.' He gave Tobin a pourboire, thanked him and headed to the third floor.
    He tapped on 302. The door was opened right away by a tall man about his own age. He had the air of what folks called a Corinthian —hair cut short and brushed forward in the Brutus do. A good jacket of blue Bath cloth, but not the cut of a Weston. Nossir, that nipped waist and padded shoulders was the work of Stultz. Reg wouldn’t like it. Not a bad looking fellow, barring the sharp look in his eyes.
    The man looked Coffen up and down and was not impressed by what he saw. “Can I help you?”he asked in a cold voice.
    “You’re McRaney?”
    A pair of brown eyes narrowed in suspicion. “That’s what it says on the door. What do you want?”
    “I came looking for a friend, Harry Bolton, and Tobin told me the sad news. Shocking! Tobin mentioned you knew Harry. Any idea what happened?”
    “I didn’t catch your name, Mr. —“
    “Pattle, Coffen Pattle.”
    “No, we have no idea what happened,”McRaney said. “Bow Street is looking into it. Townsend mentioned the Berkeley Brigade is interested. You wouldn’t be the Pattle that was involved in that Berkeley Brigade case involving Lady Dunn!”Before Coffen could reply, the man’s whole demeanour changed. He smiled widely and said, “You’re with the Brigade!”
    “I am,”Coffen said modestly. “Just doing a bit of digging around for Lord Luten.”
    “Come in, come in. Sorry if I seemed a bit abrupt before. With a murder in the building a fellow gets a tad suspicious of strangers. I’d be happy to do anything I can to help.”
    He led Coffen into a little drawing room that was similar to Bolton’s, but neater and showed him to the sofa. He sat down on a chair opposite, leaned forward and asked in a conspiratorial tone, “Why is the Berkeley Brigade taking an interest in the murder? Bolton wasn’t an important man, like most of your cases. Was he mixed up in something big?”
    “We’re just getting started,”Coffen said. “The only clue we have so far is the letters mor. Bolton was trying to write something just before he died. What I was hoping to find out is if you knew any of his friends or people he knew with the name starting with mor. Morgan or Morton or Morgr —”He stopped. Luten said not to mention Morgrave’s name. “Morgreen,”he finished.
    McRaney sat, rubbing his chin and frowning. “I believe he did mention a fellow called Morgreen the other evening. Sir something, I believe. Or maybe it was an honourable. No, it wasn’t Morgreen either. Morgraine, perhaps. I can’t recall but I have the notion it wasn’t just a plain mister. I don’t know this Morgraine fellow myself. That’s the only