Read Online The Snuffbox Murders by Roger Silverwood - Free Book Online Page A

said.
    ‘No,’ Angel said. ‘Hang on a minute. Have a look at this.’
    He turned to Ahmed and said, ‘Thank you, lad. I was expecting it.’
    ‘I had to sign for it, sir.’
    ‘I know. I know. I’ll take good care of it,’ he said, taking the envelope and beginning to look at the list of contents written on the outside of it.
    Ahmed hesitated, looked at Flora Carter; they exchanged smiles and he went out.
    Angel noticed the glances. He frowned a moment then said, ‘I hope you’re not making up to that lad, Sergeant. He’s only twenty-two, you know. He’s far too young for you.’
    Her face reddened. She inhaled quickly. In one breath, she said, ‘No, sir, I’m not. But if I was, it would be my business … and his.’
    Angel was unmoved. He pursed his lips. ‘He’s only young. He hasn’t a father. He’s not up to the … he’s not ready to … I wouldn’t want him getting hurt, that’s all.’
    Flora Carter’s lips tightened then relaxed. ‘I’m not the Wicked Witch from the West, you know.’
    He didn’t reply. He opened the envelope and emptied it on to his desk.
    ‘The contents of Charles Razzle’s pockets,’ he said.
    They both peered down at them. Angel pored through them for a few moments. They were mostly coins. There was a small wallet with forty pounds and a credit card in it, a small bunch of keys, a handkerchief and a wristwatch in a small, see-through plastic bag. He picked up the bag. The watch was a very expensive, gold Orcado. Its dial was smashed and it had stopped at five minutes past nine. He showed it to her. She nodded and that was it.
    He picked out the keys, repacked the rest of the stuff, handed her the envelope and said, ‘Give that to Ahmed on your way out.’
    She took the envelope from him. Then he gave her the keys in her other hand and said, ‘And ask him to let DS Taylor have these keys asap. One of them probably opens the safe.’
    She nodded and went out. He watched her go. As the door closed he rubbed his chin vigorously.
     
    The phone rang. He reached out for the handset, pressed the button and said, ‘Angel.’
    There was a loud wheezy cough and a splutter. Angel pulled the phone away from his ear. He knew the caller was Superintendent Harker. There was another cough and a splutter, and that was again repeated.
    Eventually Harker said, ‘Are you there?’
    ‘Yes, I’m here, sir,’ Angel said.
    ‘Aye, well come up here, smartish,’ Harker said, then he banged the receiver hard down into its cradle. It clicked noisily in Angel’s ear.
    Angel’s jaw muscles stiffened. Harker was always guaranteed to annoy him.
    Angel threw down his ballpoint and got up from the desk.
    He went down the corridor to the last door. There was a sign screwed to it. It read: ‘Detective Superintendent Horace Harker’.
    He knocked on the door and went in.
    Harker was at his desk. There were two piles of papers and files rising up to his eye level, and the rest of the desk was littered with papers, reports, a bottle of lemonade, a coffee cup, jar of Vick, bottle of paracetamol tablets, box of tissues and a transistor radio.
    The superintendent was holding a plastic inhaler up a nostril and taking a long hard sniff while blocking off the other nostril with the forefinger of his other hand. His eyes followed Angel into the room. He withdrew the inhaler, put a cap on it, placed it on the desk, then sniffed and pointed to the chair immediately in front of the desk.
    Angel sat down.
    ‘Aye,’ Harker began. ‘Well, now it’s fortunate that that Razzle case has come to an early conclusion.’
    Angel frowned. ‘That’s not so, sir. There has been a development.’
    Harker’s bushy eyebrows shot up. ‘A development?’ he said slowly. ‘Why wasn’t I told. It wasn’t in your report.’
    ‘It was only known a few minutes ago. It arises from the forensic report.’
    Angel explained that Dr Mac indicated that Razzle would have been too badly injured by the first bullet to have