‘Yes, I’m sure.’
‘He was a good husband, and our son takes after him in that respect. Charles was a self-made man who started with nothing but ended up a very successful businessman and an investor, very good with money. He always provided for us as a family, and thanks to him I’m glad to say I have no financial worries – not something a lot of widows can say these days, unfortunately.’
She took the photograph frame from Jago, replaced it carefully on the mantelpiece and fell silent again. Reaching for a silver cigarette case that was sitting beside the photograph, she took out a cigarette and then waved the case in Jago’s direction.
‘I’m sorry, Inspector,’ she said, ‘I didn’t offer you a cigarette. Would you like one?’
‘No, thank you,’ he said.
She glanced at Cradock, extending the case vaguely towards him, but he declined with a shake of his head. She lit her own cigarette and slowly exhaled a stream of blue smoke.
‘Your daughter-in-law, Joan, Mrs Lewis,’ Jago continued. ‘You said she moved out of here three weeks ago. So was that flat in Carpenters Road her new home?’
‘I expect so, yes. What I mean is I don’t know the address, but it was in Carpenters Road. I haven’t been to visit her yet.’
‘So when did you last see her?’
‘I don’t know. Probably when she moved out.’
‘Can you tell me why she moved out?’
‘She just wanted a place of her own, I think.’
‘Does she have any next of kin apart from your son? Parents? Brothers or sisters?’
‘She doesn’t have parents. She has one sister, a girl called Beryl. Beryl Hayes, I expect, if she isn’t married yet. I don’t know her address, but she works at the cinema, like Joan.’
‘So Joan worked at the cinema?’
‘That’s what I said, Inspector.’
‘Which one?’
‘When she was living here she worked at the Broadway Super, but since she left I’ve heard that she’s been at the Regal, in Stratford High Street.’
‘What was her job?’
Audrey Lewis paused as she drew on her cigarette, and Jago caught a fleeting impression of disdain in her voice when she replied.
‘She was what I believe is called an “usherette”. What a ridiculous word.’
‘Just one last question, Mrs Lewis. Would you be willing to come to the mortuary and identify the body?’
‘I’d prefer not to, if you don’t mind. I’ve been under some considerable nervous strain since Richard went missing, and I don’t think visiting a mortuary would be good for me. Could you possibly ask her sister? I’ll do it, of course, if she can’t, but that would be my preference.’
‘Very well, I’ll bear that in mind. Just one last question before we go, if you don’t mind. Can you tell me what kind of wedding ring your daughter-in-law wore?’
‘Yes, it was just a simple thin golden one, and I think her engagement ring’s gold too, with a small square emerald. Why do you ask?’
‘We’re just collecting information at this stage, Mrs Lewis. We’ll be on our way now. Thank you for your time, and I hope you get some good news about your son soon.’
‘Thank you, Inspector. You’re most considerate.’
She showed them to the door, cigarette in hand, and Jago heard it click behind them as soon as they left.
‘Where to now, sir?’ said Cradock as he closed the garden gate behind them.
‘To the Regal,’ said Jago. ‘We need to find this sister, Beryl.’
‘Right. Odd about the rings, isn’t it? Why did you ask her about them?’
‘Simply because it turns out she was married, and you don’t expect a married woman not to be wearing rings. I don’t want anyone in the family to know just yet that she wasn’t wearing them when we found her, but I’d like to find out why.’
‘There’s one obvious possibility, isn’t there?’
‘Yes? And what’s that?’
‘Well, like we were saying at the flat – maybe she was on the game. Her husband’s away somewhere, maybe hiding in France, maybe a prisoner in Germany, maybe even dead, and she’s moved into a little flat. She wouldn’t want to keep her rings on, would she? Maybe she takes them off when she’s working, as you might say.’
‘Possibly, but we’re only guessing. There could be a perfectly legitimate explanation – perhaps she was meeting someone for some entirely innocent reason and didn’t want them to know she was married. Maybe she’d lost them. Maybe she was hard up and had pawned them for a few days. It may be of no significance at all.’
‘Can I ask another question?’
‘Of course. What is it?’
‘You didn’t ask Mrs Lewis whether she knew Joan was expecting.’
‘That’s right.’
‘Well, I just wondered why.’
‘Work it out for yourself. She’s been pregnant for twelve weeks and her husband’s been out of the country for five months, so it’s clearly not his child, and from what we’ve seen of Audrey, I don’t think Joan would’ve confided in her. In fact, it wouldn’t be surprising to find she hadn’t told anyone. If it’s a secret and we reveal it, it’ll be common knowledge before you can say Jack Robinson. I think I’d rather wait for a bit and see if anyone tells us – I’d like to know who knew the secret before we did.’
CHAPTER SIX
The Regal cinema on Stratford High Street, near the Black Bull pub, was an eye-catching building in the bold art deco style favoured by some of the big cinema companies. The front entrance boasted a row of fully glazed steel doors, their glass still intact, and as Jago pushed one open he was struck by how heavy it was. The whole place had an air of elegance, and inside it was lavishly decorated. No wonder they were called picture palaces, he thought: the owners seemed to have gone all out to impress.
A uniformed page boy who looked about fourteen greeted them politely. Informed by
