The woman went into the back shop and came out with a leather-bound ledger. She opened it and ran a long finger ending in a scarlet nail, so long it curved like a claw, down the pages. “Ah, I thought so. No Rudfern. I only sold one Versace gown in gold faille to a Mrs. Lewis, a Mrs. Gloria Lewis.”
“I’m sorry to have wasted your time,” said Maggie. “My employer must have mistaken the shop.”
She closed the book again, looking bored. “Exactly.”
They had just reached the door of the shop when Fell turned back and said, “Where does this Mrs. Lewis live?”
The Frenchwoman clicked her tongue impatiently but opened the ledger again. Strange, thought Maggie. A less expensive shop would almost certainly have a computer, but with prices like these, probably so few were sold that…
“Buss,” said the woman. “She lives in Buss.”
“May we have her address?” asked Fell.
Her hard face hardened even more. “No, of course you may not. Who are you anyway? I do not like thees.” Her accent had become more marked. “Are you the reporters?”
“No, no,” said Fell, taking Maggie’s arm and hustling her out of the shop.
They walked rapidly a little way up the Parade and then Fell stopped and said, “It could be her.”
“So how do we find out?” asked Maggie.
“Tommy Whittaker.”
“But if he thinks we suspect Rudfern,” wailed Maggie, “he’ll maybe poke his nose in and if Rudfern gets to hear of it, he might sue us.”
“We’ll take him for a drink.” Fell’s eyes were shining with excitement. “We’ll get him talking about this and that and slip in a few questions.”
Maggie felt weary. Her cotton dress was sticking to her body and she knew her hair was lank. In her heart she hoped the editor would be too busy to talk to them.
¦
It was with relief that Maggie heard the receptionist at the
“So that’s that,” said Maggie cheerfully. “I’m all hot and sticky. Let’s go home and – ”
“Lunch,” interrupted Fell. “That means a liquid lunch. Let’s try the Red Lion.”
Maggie trailed beside him along the street past the Georgian front of the courthouse to the Red Lion. She noticed with a feeling of resignation Tommy Whittaker sitting at a table by the window. He hailed them cheerfully and asked them to get their drinks and bring him a double Scotch.
When they were seated around the table, Tommy looked at them and asked, “Found out anything?”
“I’m not looking for anything,” replied Fell. “We thought we would find you here. We thought we would drop in and thank you for putting that story in that we’d given up.”
“And have you?”
“Definitely. What on earth can we do that the police can’t?”
“I dunno,” said Tommy, “but they didn’t do much of a good job at the beginning, if you ask me.”
“Did Inspector Rudfern have a bad reputation?” asked Maggie.
“On the contrary. A good copper, rising steadily up the ranks, working hard. Usually cooperated well with the press, but not on this one. Wouldn’t give us a morsel.”
“Maybe he didn’t have anything to give?” suggested Fell.
“It looks that way.”
“He certainly didn’t seem very enthusiastic when we met him,” said Maggie.
“Grumpy old bugger.” Tommy took a gulp of whisky.
“His daughter’s pretty grumpy as well,” said Fell. “What’s her name again?”
“Oh, her, Gloria Lewis.”
Maggie felt a jolt in her stomach.
“She got soured a long time ago,” Tommy was going on. “I’ll tell you about it. Goodness, I’ve got an empty glass.”
“I’ll get you another.” Fell went to the bar, but it took some time, as the barman seemed determined to ignore him. When he got back to the table, it was to find Maggie on her own. “Where is he?”
“Gone to the loo.”
“What did he say about Gloria Lewis?”
“He said he’d tell us both.” Tommy emerged from the loo and then infuriatingly stopped to talk to various locals. Impatiently Fell held up the glass of whisky. Tommy saw it, ended his conversation, and came hurrying up. He raised the glass, took a gulp, and then sat down. “Ah, that’s better. Where was I?”
“Gloria Lewis,” prompted Maggie.
“Her, yes. She got married to James Lewis, a high-flyer.”
“A high-flyer in
Tommy laughed. “No, London man, much older than she was. Must have been about nineteen and he was forty. Owned a chain of restaurants. Was thinking of opening a restaurant in Buss. Checked in at the Palace. Called in at the cop shop to find out if it was a safe area and got to know Rudfern. Rudfern invited him home. He fell for Gloria. She used to be quite a looker, by all accounts. Whirlwind romance, got married, off to London. One month later, he’s got his eye on a blonde model and he’s bored with Gloria. Gloria, furious at his indifference, has an affair with one of his friends to teach him a lesson. Friend tells James. James sues for divorce as injured party. No children. Gloria gets zilch. Rich lifestyle goes down the pan, back to being copper’s daughter in Buss.”
“She must have hated giving up the high life,” said Maggie.
“I s’pose.”
“Didn’t want to marry again?”
“I don’t think she found anyone around here good enough for her. I gather you were asking young Peter about Johnny Tremp.”
“It turned out to be a dead end,” said Fell.
“Still,” said Tommy, “it could have been a good lead. It must have looked to you as if he’d sat on that money all these years and then decided to spend it when everything had cooled down.”
“It did seem that way.” Fell noticed Tommy’s glass was empty again. The pub was very hot and smelly and he now wanted to escape and talk over with Maggie what they had learned. Then it struck him that Gloria might have money of her own, and who better to tell them than Tommy. “Another drink?” he asked.
“Very kind,” beamed Tommy.
“I’ll get it.” Maggie pushed back her chair. “What about you, Fell?”
“Another gin and tonic.”
When Maggie left for the bar, Fell said as casually as he could, “Does Gloria Lewis have a business of some kind?”
“Her business is looking after the old man.”
Maggie returned with the drinks. “That was quick,” said Fell. “How did you manage it? I thought that barman would never serve me.”
“An attractive lady will always get served first,” said Tommy, leering at Maggie.
Fell thought crossly that no one could call Maggie attractive on that hot day. Her face was shiny and her hair limp. “I believe you gave our Peter the elbow,” Tommy was saying.
“I am engaged,” said Maggie.
“Poor chap thought he was in there with a chance. Quite cut up, he is,” teased Tommy.
“Then he should know better than to try to poach on someone else’s land,” said Fell sharply, and Maggie looked at him in such amazement that Fell actually blushed.
Tommy’s eyes now focused on Fell. “You’ve got an odd engagement. I mean, what was Peter to think? You were wining and dining with Melissa Harley.”
“That was different. That was business.”
“Didn’t get any money out of you, did she?”
“No.”
“Just as well. Terrible woman. Probably thought you were an easy mark, but I’ll bet your young lady here
