Free Corridors of Death by Ruth Dudley Edwards Page B

professional relations with Sir Nicholas and the closeness of the links between his company and the department.
    Not that this frankness meant anything, necessarily. Stafford might be nice, but he was clearly sensible as well, and had no reason to doubt that the police would hear about the circumstances of the grant from some civil servant or other. He didn’t, of course, know what Amiss had known about the importance of Sir Nicholas’s role in the affair, but he admitted his suspicions.
    ‘I did wonder, Superintendent, if Nicholas had been entirely frank with me. He assured me frequently that he was taking a personal interest in getting the grant approved, yet he never gave me any word of warning of what was going to happen. If I had had any foreknowledge I could have made a proper case for myself. I had been concentrating on making a case for the company.’
    ‘Did you tax him with this?’
    ‘I rang him at the weekend and asked him why he had said nothing. He was very stiff. Talked about departmental confidentiality and made me feel as if I had been improperly trying to pull strings. That was a distortion and I felt very sore about it. I never tried to misuse my friendship with Nicholas. He claimed to have a high opinion of my managerial talents and I reasonably assumed that he would pass this on.’
    ‘Did you have a row?’
    ‘Nicholas wasn’t the sort of man you could have a real row with. He just went stiffer and stiffer and more and more pompous and ended the conversation by saying he wished to express his regrets at my misfortune and hoped that when I had had time to get over it we could have lunch again.’
    Milton wondered if this was true. Knowing the state of mind Sir Nicholas had been in over the weekend he could well have been intensely insulting to Stafford. He might even have made it clear that he had been instrumental in getting the offensive conditions attached to the offer. However, there was no way of checking up on this now. Perhaps Lady Clark might know something about the phone call. Nothing more to learn here.
    Milton had just thanked Stafford and said goodbye when Romford dashed in unceremoniously with the news of the second murder.
    13
    The rather muted celebrations of Sir Nicholas’s staff were over by 2.30. They were necessarily muted because even Julia realized that there were limits to bad taste. After she had left just before 2.00 to relieve Gladys, who was manning the office alone, the conversation flagged and finally died. Amiss was too preoccupied with his private thoughts to inject any life into the proceedings, and at 2.30 he realized with a start that he had better be getting back to the office, as Sanders was due to move into Sir Nicholas’s room at 3.00 and it was up to him to remove in advance any of the late unlamented’s private belongings.
    ‘Shouldn’t we wait for Gladys?’ asked George.
    ‘Give her another ten minutes, but the poor old bat has probably gone shopping instead. You know she doesn’t really like coming to the pub.’
    He walked back hurriedly, arriving to find Julia sitting comfortably in his chair painting her nails.
    ‘Nothing urgent?’
    ‘Not a thing. It’s been as quiet as the grave,’ and Julia began to laugh immoderately at her own wit.
    ‘Gladys didn’t turn up.’
    ‘Well, I don’t know where she went. She wasn’t here when I got back.’
    ‘That’s not like her,’ said Amiss, frowning. ‘I wonder if she felt ill and went home. But she’d have left a note.’
    ‘Oh, she probably thought it was O.K. to pop out shopping since everything was so quiet. You know she can’t resist the market at lunch-time.’
    ‘Come and give me a hand loading up Sir Nicholas’s belongings then, Julia – if your nail varnish will permit.’
    ‘It’s all been done, Robert. His wife and son came in just before I left and they seem to have cleared the lot.’
    ‘Lord, I should have been here to meet them.’
    ‘Well, we couldn’t find you so I