Read Online The Greek Who Stole Christmas by Anthony Horowitz - Free Book Online
Authors: Anthony Horowitz
Ads: Link
to admit she seemed very shaken by what had happened. Her face was pale. Her eyes were thoughtful. And even her silver-plated breasts seemed to have lost their sparkle.
“All right, Diamond,” Snape said, emptying his glass. “Spit it out!”
“He hasn’t drunk anything yet,” Tim said.
“I want you to tell me what’s been going on. How did you know about Harold Chase and how did you figure out his plan?”
“I worked it out when we visited Janey Winterbotham,” I explained.
“The next-door neighbour?” Snape sniffed. “I spoke to her. She didn’t tell me anything.”
“She told me that Reginald Parker was an out-of-work actor but that he had a job in a department store every Christmas,” I said. “What else could he have been but a department store Santa? That was when it all fell into place.”
“Why don’t you start at the beginning?” Jake Hammill suggested.
“All right.” I drew a breath. “This is the way I see it. Harold Chase hated Minerva for all the reasons he just told us. His hatred had obviously driven him mad and he decided to kill her. But the trouble was, it was too obvious. If Minerva died, he would be the main suspect. Everyone knew how badly she treated him.”
“A lot of people would die to be married to me,” Minerva sniffed.
“He
was
married to you – and you were the one he wanted to die,” I reminded her. “Anyway, Harold couldn’t kill you himself. He’d be arrested at once. But then he had an idea. He realized that the best way to get rid of you was to create someone who didn’t exist: a crazy fan. He used that concert you cancelled – for Overweight Albanian Kids – and pretended that someone was out to get revenge.”
“You mean … it was Harold who wrote that anonymous letter?” Hammill asked.
“Exactly. He even put a fake spelling mistake in it – but if he couldn’t spell ‘forgive’, how come he could spell ‘forget’ a few lines later? The whole thing felt fake to me.”
“And what about the cracker?”
“That was another clue. I thought at the time that there was something weird about it, but it was only later that I realized what it was.” I turned to Hammill. “You’d booked Minerva into the Porchester hotel under a false name.”
“Right,” he said.
“But the box of crackers was addressed to her. Whoever sent it even knew the number of the suite where she was staying. It had to be an inside job.”
“But wait a minute,” Snape interrupted. “If it was Chase all the time, what was Reginald Parker doing on the roof at Regent Street?”
“Reginald Parker had been paid by Chase,” I explained. “His neighbour told us he got a lot of money for a job in the West End. She probably thought it was a job in theatre. My guess is that Chase paid him to leave the silver oak leaves on the roof. Parker had no idea what he was doing. He didn’t have a gun or anything. I saw him carrying something, but it could have been a camera. After all, he knew Minerva was there. He was a complete innocent. That’s what he tried to tell me when I went up there. ‘I didn’t…’ That was all he managed. But what he wanted to say was, ‘I didn’t do it!’ He must have been horrified when he heard the shots.”
“So who
did
shoot at me?” Minerva asked. She poured herself some more champagne. I wondered what she was celebrating. Maybe it was the fact she was still alive.
“That was Harold,” I said. “Again, I’m only guessing, but I’d say he fired two blank shots from a gun he had inside his pocket. When we were on the platform, the shots sounded very close. He fired twice and then pointed to Reginald up on the roof – because, of course, he knew he’d be there. You see, he was creating the illusion of a killer … someone who didn’t really exist. The only snag is, the gun burnt a hole in his coat.” I glanced at Minerva. “You thought he’d almost been hit. In fact, he’d fired the shots himself.”
“I don’t get
“All right, Diamond,” Snape said, emptying his glass. “Spit it out!”
“He hasn’t drunk anything yet,” Tim said.
“I want you to tell me what’s been going on. How did you know about Harold Chase and how did you figure out his plan?”
“I worked it out when we visited Janey Winterbotham,” I explained.
“The next-door neighbour?” Snape sniffed. “I spoke to her. She didn’t tell me anything.”
“She told me that Reginald Parker was an out-of-work actor but that he had a job in a department store every Christmas,” I said. “What else could he have been but a department store Santa? That was when it all fell into place.”
“Why don’t you start at the beginning?” Jake Hammill suggested.
“All right.” I drew a breath. “This is the way I see it. Harold Chase hated Minerva for all the reasons he just told us. His hatred had obviously driven him mad and he decided to kill her. But the trouble was, it was too obvious. If Minerva died, he would be the main suspect. Everyone knew how badly she treated him.”
“A lot of people would die to be married to me,” Minerva sniffed.
“He
was
married to you – and you were the one he wanted to die,” I reminded her. “Anyway, Harold couldn’t kill you himself. He’d be arrested at once. But then he had an idea. He realized that the best way to get rid of you was to create someone who didn’t exist: a crazy fan. He used that concert you cancelled – for Overweight Albanian Kids – and pretended that someone was out to get revenge.”
“You mean … it was Harold who wrote that anonymous letter?” Hammill asked.
“Exactly. He even put a fake spelling mistake in it – but if he couldn’t spell ‘forgive’, how come he could spell ‘forget’ a few lines later? The whole thing felt fake to me.”
“And what about the cracker?”
“That was another clue. I thought at the time that there was something weird about it, but it was only later that I realized what it was.” I turned to Hammill. “You’d booked Minerva into the Porchester hotel under a false name.”
“Right,” he said.
“But the box of crackers was addressed to her. Whoever sent it even knew the number of the suite where she was staying. It had to be an inside job.”
“But wait a minute,” Snape interrupted. “If it was Chase all the time, what was Reginald Parker doing on the roof at Regent Street?”
“Reginald Parker had been paid by Chase,” I explained. “His neighbour told us he got a lot of money for a job in the West End. She probably thought it was a job in theatre. My guess is that Chase paid him to leave the silver oak leaves on the roof. Parker had no idea what he was doing. He didn’t have a gun or anything. I saw him carrying something, but it could have been a camera. After all, he knew Minerva was there. He was a complete innocent. That’s what he tried to tell me when I went up there. ‘I didn’t…’ That was all he managed. But what he wanted to say was, ‘I didn’t do it!’ He must have been horrified when he heard the shots.”
“So who
did
shoot at me?” Minerva asked. She poured herself some more champagne. I wondered what she was celebrating. Maybe it was the fact she was still alive.
“That was Harold,” I said. “Again, I’m only guessing, but I’d say he fired two blank shots from a gun he had inside his pocket. When we were on the platform, the shots sounded very close. He fired twice and then pointed to Reginald up on the roof – because, of course, he knew he’d be there. You see, he was creating the illusion of a killer … someone who didn’t really exist. The only snag is, the gun burnt a hole in his coat.” I glanced at Minerva. “You thought he’d almost been hit. In fact, he’d fired the shots himself.”
“I don’t get
Similar Books
