Read Online Three Little Maids by Patricia Scott - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Patricia Scott
Ads: Link
better than Kent expected, even chuckling over some of it. ‘She must have had asbestos pants, guv. She was quite a fast worker, wasn’t she? A nymphomaniac in the making, I would say.’
‘There’s Roger Welbeck’s name in here. Going by the initials. That’s someone else we have to see. He’s the heating engineer, isn’t he? He does some work in the chapel, checking up on the heating and plumbing, and on her too.’ He chuckled richly. ‘If this is anything to go by, we must find out what time Welbeck arrived home.’
‘We could call on his wife, and get her version of the evening, before he can speak to her?’
‘Good thinking, Turner . We’ll do just that.’
12
The Welbecks lived in a long, tree fringed road of large detached private villas on the left hand side of the park and Kent was taken aback for a minute or so to see the large, white house designed in the thirties style, standing in its own grounds. It was definitely one of a kind. Its many front windows, and the flat penthouse type roof with a flourishing rooftop garden on top, looked like it came straight out of an Agatha Christie TV movie. Shades of Hercule Poirot, he thought with a broad smile getting out of the car.
‘Now this , I could really go for - Turner,’ he said standing in the wide gravel driveway gazing up at it appreciatively for a while.
‘Takes a bit of getting used to at first, guv,’ Turner chuckled. ‘Mrs Welbeck’s grandfather, Paul Grantham, designed it. He was an architect and a good one. He left a packet of money to her mother, Alyne, and the house. Although, Sara’s had it altered a bit since inside. She had a lift put in for her personal use with the wheelchair and she does some painting and gardening on the roof. It’s laid out with flowers up there, you see, real fancy.’
‘It must have a great view.
‘She said it gives her inspiration for painting and that was all she had when she first came back here after a car accident. She lost her small four-year-old daughter, Becky in it. Roger was driving and they went through hell together afterwards. She was in hospital for a long time and he doesn’t like anyone mentioning it much. Carole knows more than I do what went on in that marriage but she doesn’t tell me everything, even now. She used to visit as the district nurse and became a good friend to Sara.’
Kent rang the front doorbell and heard an attractive husky voice inquire, ‘Who is it?’
‘The police, MrsWelbeck. Detective Inspector Kent and Sergeant Turner. We would like to ask you a few questions concerning Maureen Carey. If we may co me in please?’
‘Okay.’ There was a buzz. ‘Push the door inwards and come up the stairs facing you, please. Or , if you don’t fancy, the exercise you can use the lift in the hall on the side. It’s up to you, gentlemen. I’m in the studio room in the front.’
‘Stairs, Turner.’
‘Right, guv.’
Sara Welbeck opened the adjoining studio doors to them. She was in her wheelchair, a slim, attractive green-eyed fair-haired woman with a devastatingly sweet smile that made Turner toes want to curl up. She always had that disturbing effect on him.
‘Good afternoon, gentlemen. I was really in need of a break and you’ve come at just the right time. Is this is about Maureen Carey? The dead girl?’
‘It is, we shan’t take up too much of your time I hope, MrsWelbeck. Thank you for agreeing to see us. We would like some information about last Thursday evening. Was your husband spending the evening with you at home?’
Turner took out his notebook and popped a sweet into his mouth, his biro poised over the blank page.
‘No, I’m afraid not. But why haven’t you asked him yet? Oh, I see...’ She smiled. ‘You want to see if our statements match. Well, he will tell you that he was rehearsing for the Mikado at the local theatre. Roger belongs to the local Amateur Operetta theatre club. He has a good tenor voice, actually, and he plays
‘There’s Roger Welbeck’s name in here. Going by the initials. That’s someone else we have to see. He’s the heating engineer, isn’t he? He does some work in the chapel, checking up on the heating and plumbing, and on her too.’ He chuckled richly. ‘If this is anything to go by, we must find out what time Welbeck arrived home.’
‘We could call on his wife, and get her version of the evening, before he can speak to her?’
‘Good thinking, Turner . We’ll do just that.’
12
The Welbecks lived in a long, tree fringed road of large detached private villas on the left hand side of the park and Kent was taken aback for a minute or so to see the large, white house designed in the thirties style, standing in its own grounds. It was definitely one of a kind. Its many front windows, and the flat penthouse type roof with a flourishing rooftop garden on top, looked like it came straight out of an Agatha Christie TV movie. Shades of Hercule Poirot, he thought with a broad smile getting out of the car.
‘Now this , I could really go for - Turner,’ he said standing in the wide gravel driveway gazing up at it appreciatively for a while.
‘Takes a bit of getting used to at first, guv,’ Turner chuckled. ‘Mrs Welbeck’s grandfather, Paul Grantham, designed it. He was an architect and a good one. He left a packet of money to her mother, Alyne, and the house. Although, Sara’s had it altered a bit since inside. She had a lift put in for her personal use with the wheelchair and she does some painting and gardening on the roof. It’s laid out with flowers up there, you see, real fancy.’
‘It must have a great view.
‘She said it gives her inspiration for painting and that was all she had when she first came back here after a car accident. She lost her small four-year-old daughter, Becky in it. Roger was driving and they went through hell together afterwards. She was in hospital for a long time and he doesn’t like anyone mentioning it much. Carole knows more than I do what went on in that marriage but she doesn’t tell me everything, even now. She used to visit as the district nurse and became a good friend to Sara.’
Kent rang the front doorbell and heard an attractive husky voice inquire, ‘Who is it?’
‘The police, MrsWelbeck. Detective Inspector Kent and Sergeant Turner. We would like to ask you a few questions concerning Maureen Carey. If we may co me in please?’
‘Okay.’ There was a buzz. ‘Push the door inwards and come up the stairs facing you, please. Or , if you don’t fancy, the exercise you can use the lift in the hall on the side. It’s up to you, gentlemen. I’m in the studio room in the front.’
‘Stairs, Turner.’
‘Right, guv.’
Sara Welbeck opened the adjoining studio doors to them. She was in her wheelchair, a slim, attractive green-eyed fair-haired woman with a devastatingly sweet smile that made Turner toes want to curl up. She always had that disturbing effect on him.
‘Good afternoon, gentlemen. I was really in need of a break and you’ve come at just the right time. Is this is about Maureen Carey? The dead girl?’
‘It is, we shan’t take up too much of your time I hope, MrsWelbeck. Thank you for agreeing to see us. We would like some information about last Thursday evening. Was your husband spending the evening with you at home?’
Turner took out his notebook and popped a sweet into his mouth, his biro poised over the blank page.
‘No, I’m afraid not. But why haven’t you asked him yet? Oh, I see...’ She smiled. ‘You want to see if our statements match. Well, he will tell you that he was rehearsing for the Mikado at the local theatre. Roger belongs to the local Amateur Operetta theatre club. He has a good tenor voice, actually, and he plays
Similar Books
