West of the River. David Dalby. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: David Dalby
Издательство: Ingram
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Жанр произведения: Зарубежная драматургия
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781499901719
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channel….shopping channel…adult channel….” These days there was plenty of options. Hazel herself had watched a news channel or two during the odd sleepless night that people sometime get. “Or she could have been watching a DVD.”

      “The TV wasn’t on.” Stanger said.

      “How about the radio?”

      Stanger shook his head.

      “I see. So Gloria Kelsey was fully clothed, in her living room at two in the morning. Doing what?”

      Stanger shrugged, “She had company. Hannah McShane.”

      For five hours or more? Even Hazel’s sister didn’t come to stay until that time. No, this makes no sense. Hazel thought. “Good point.” Hazel said. She wasn’t sure where Stanger stood in all this. She didn’t see him covering up a killing, but she did see him, and others, covering up sloppy police work.

      She continued, “You found the body and called for backup. Did you search the house?”

      He seemed genuinely puzzled. “Why? The girl had already left.”

      “Yes of course.” Hazel gave a weak smile. “Silly of me.” The girl, Hannah McShane, whom the security guard appeared to know, had run off. According to the security guard. Whom Stanger didn’t really know.

      Maybe Stanger left the CID because he took too much on trust.

      “Did Simpson come into the house with you?”

      “No, he waited outside.”

      Hazel nodded, “Did you stay in the house until backup arrived?”

      “No, I went back outside.” Stanger said. “The dead body, you know.”

      Hazel nodded, she had some sympathy for that view. Though not much for his lack of professionalism.

      “Who was the backup?”

      “Charlie White….Detective Sergeant White.” Stanger said. “We don’t have a big CID squad out here. Never needed it. It’s not like we get major crimes happening.”

      Not unless you counted the seemingly endless severe beatings and occasional killings that used to happen in Riverside when Benny Jackson and Tony Usher were at each other’s throats.

      “You know Charlie White well?”

      “Well yes, we’re….” Stanger stopped and shrugged, “I know the Freemasons aren’t as popular as they used to be. But we do go to the same lodge.”

      Hazel said, “That’s fine, so long as you’ve declared you’re a Freemason there’s no problem with that.” Hazel considered the Freemasons rather archaic and absurd, but membership was legal so long as it was openly stated.

      “He was the only person that was sent?”

      “Well at first. The forensic people came later. Charlie just took statements and waited until all the technical people arrived.”

      “Did he go into the house?”

      “Yes.”

      “Did you go with him?”

      “He told me to wait outside and make sure no one came in.”

      “At what? Half past two in the morning?”

      “The press monitor the police waveband, Sergeant Vernon.”

      “True.” Hazel said, though at that time of day even the gutter press reporters are tucked up in someone’s bed. “How long did it take until the scene of crime people arrived?”

      “They were here by about three…and we had to wait for the doctor too.”

      “Doctor West?”

      “That’s right. She got here just after three.”

      “Did you know Gloria Kelsey?” Hazel said.

      Stanger shook his head.

      “Did Sergeant White?”

      “I shouldn’t think so. No. Why?”

      Hazel didn’t bother to answer that question. “Thanks for the help. That’s cleared up a lot.” At least it had given her a lot of questions to answer. She opened the car door and got out. “If you think of anything, can you call me on this number?” She passed him a card.

      “Will do, but I think I covered everything in the report.”

      Hazel said, “You never know, you might think of something.”

      She closed the door. Stanger started his engine and drove away.

       * *

      “She’s interviewing the eye witnesses.” Stanger said. “She spent some time talking to me. I told her what I knew. Which isn’t much.” He paused, “She wasn’t impressed.”

      Stanger was talking to two women. Well, really, just one. The Japanese woman, who could both understand and speak English flawlessly, remained in the red Range Rover. She sat behind the wheel and smoked continuously, being very careful to, apparently, pay no attention at all to anything anyone said.

      Stanger didn’t really like the two women. They worked for the gangster, Victor Monk. Stanger had never met Monk but, in his own small way, was also employed by Victor Monk.

      The very English woman had silver hair which was probably dyed. She looked smart and elegant in dark jeans and a navy windbreaker jacket. Round neck sweater. She reminded Stanger of Hazel Vernon. Though probably a much more ruthless version if she worked for Monk. She said her name was Karen Creed. Stanger didn’t believe this for a moment. The Japanese woman was called Etsumi Mitsoko. Which may have been true.

      “You two have been following her around.” Stanger said. “You probably know as much as I do.”

      “How reliable are those two witnesses?” Creed or whatever her real name might be, asked. They were parked up in Riverside, well away from Hazel and her investigation. Stanger had driven over to meet them.

      “The McShane girl was acquitted.” He said. “They can’t have been all that reliable.”

      Creed nodded. “A couple of retired people. Late at night, not great eyesight. I’m betting Raeburn and his people fixed the line-up so they’d pick her out.”

      “You don’t think she’s guilty?” Stanger was interested, despite the two of them making him uncomfortable. It was a lot of things. The way they moved, stood, sat. They could be creepily silent and still whatever they were doing. They had a near open contempt for him that went beyond race, gender or occupation. Also, he knew they worked for Monk and, while there was no sign, Stanger knew they would have guns readily to hand.

      “I think George Raeburn and his people are a bunch of incompetent half-wits. The idea they could find the person who did this is laughable.” Creed didn’t laugh. Neither did Mitsoko. “Let’s say there’s considerable doubt about her guilt. I have read the court transcripts. I wouldn’t have voted guilty on the evidence produced.”

      Creed looked at Stanger sharply, “Oh you can smile away, Mr Stanger. But we require proof to do anything. Gloria Kelsey was important to a lot of people. Not just Mr Monk. We want to see her killer punished. But it must be the right person. In that respect, right now, at this moment, we have the same aim as Detective Sergeant Vernon.”

      “That’s all very nice.” Stanger said. “But it’s got to be Hannah McShane. Who else is even likely to be?”

      “Why would this McShane girl murder Gloria?”

      “Why would anyone?” Stanger said. “People only really kill for money or sex.”

      “Her daughter inherits.” Creed said. “There’s a second suspect.”

      “I’ve met her daughter. I can’t see her