Read Online The School of English Murder by Ruth Dudley Edwards - Free Book Online

had no idea how to proceed with One, and was afraid of the consequences of proceeding with Two.
    He mulled over the Rich problem on his walk to school. In a whole week he had seen the man only twice. Once to be sent chucklingly to the salt mines and once to be told with a mighty guffaw that he had ‘earned his spurs’ and was now ‘one of the little family’. At that rate it could take weeks to build up any kind of relationship and he did not have weeks. If murdering Ned was on someone’s agenda, there was no time to lose.
    Amiss knew himself to be a better than average judge of character, and he felt fairly confident he had the measure of Rich. What was imperative was to get the proportions of flattery and cheek right. And, of course, on the assumption that Rich was running some kind of shady outfit, an absence of curiosity and scruple could only be bonuses. Of course, he also needed something to sell him.
    He caught him just before nine. ‘Excuse me, Rich. Could we have a brief chat sometime today?’
    ‘What about, my dear man? Thought we’d fixed things up to your satisfaction.’
    ‘Yes, sure, but I need some advice.’
    ‘Not on matters of the heart, I trust,’ and the ‘har . . har . . har’ resounded around the building.
    Amiss emitted a broad chuckle and stuck to his guns. ‘More of the head really.’
    That seemed to delight Rich. When he stopped laughing he pulled his Filofax from under his arm, scrutinised his diary and went through a series of self-important mutterings. ‘Seven o’clock,’ he said finally.
    Bastard, thought Amiss. He must know I finish at five. ‘Great. Thanks, Rich. See you then.’
    He strode purposefully towards the door to the garden, almost sure he knew how to go about tackling the present continuous tense.
    Rich was on the doorstep with an expensive middle-aged blonde and Amiss held back politely as they concluded their business. Rich kissed her hand with tremendous élan and a ‘Goodbye, dear lady. Arrivederci. I cannot wait’, and she sashayed away, turning back periodically to wave.
    ‘You’re some operator,’ said Amiss admiringly. ‘Do you do that to all the girls?’
    ‘Most,’ said Rich, eyeing his employee with some surprise. ‘Do you always dress like that when you want advice?’
    ‘What?’ Amiss seemed puzzled. Then he looked down at his dinner jacket and laughed. ‘Oh, this. Taking the mater to the opera. She’s a stickler for keeping up standards.’
    ‘Well, come in. Have a drink. You obviously haven’t got long.’ Rich exerted himself with commendable haste to get Amiss a gin and tonic from a little fridge behind the sofa.
    ‘You’re not a man who likes shilly-shallying, Rich, so I’ll come straight to the point. Is there going to be a future for me in the class end of the business? Or did you envisage me staying outside with the proletariat?’
    Rich was so thunder-struck that he failed to produce any sound at all.
    ‘Fair’s fair, Rich. I can take a joke as well as the next man and I played along last week. But you’re a student of character and you must know very well that what I’m interested in is the high life and the perks.’
    ‘You were only given the job on Friday,’ said Rich in disbelief.
    ‘Come on, Rich. You’re pulling my leg. You didn’t seriously think I wanted to go into the same line of work as Ned, dear old boy though he undoubtedly is. You and I are two of a kind, for heaven’s sake. See an opportunity and go for it. Come on, what do you say?’
    ‘How do you know so much about this side of the operation?’
    ‘The mater again. She met some people skiing who swore by this place and said it was absolutely enormous fun. That’s why I applied.’ Amiss shook his head. ‘Now, Rich, you know women. You can’t expect me to tell her what I’m really doing. She’d have a seizure.’
    Rich looked bemused. ‘Didn’t Ned tell me you used to be a civil servant? You don’t sound very like one to