Free Angel and the Actress by Roger Silverwood Page A

said with eyebrows raised. ‘Anything there shouldn’t have been?’
    ‘Noo. Absolutely normal. Bloodstream, a trace of alcohol. Lungs, normal. Kidneys, normal.’
    ‘Was there anything else abnormal ?’
    ‘Noo,’ the doctor said.
    Angel was disappointed. There was nothing helpful there. ‘Well, thank you kindly, Mac,’ he said.
    ‘Anytime,’ the doctor said with a smile on his lips.
    Angel thoughtfully closed the phone, leaned back inthe chair and squeezed the lobe of his ear between finger and thumb. A trace of alcohol in Joan Minter’s bloodstream seemed perfectly reasonable considering she was at a party and she had a glass in her hand at the time she was shot. It was frustrating that there seemed to be such a dearth of clues on the body.
    There was a knock at the door. It was Flora Carter.
    ‘The search party has gone, sir,’ she said. ‘I had to organize transport back for them.’
    ‘Right. Come in,’ Angel said. ‘Sit down.’
    There was another knock on the door. It was Don Taylor.
    When Angel saw him he stood up. ‘Well, Don, what you got? Who has the blue specks with tails?’
    ‘Nobody, sir. The hands of all four came up clean as a whistle.’
    Angel slumped back in the chair. He looked down, closed his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck.
    Flora said, ‘Does that mean that they’re no longer suspects?’
    ‘No, not necessarily,’ Taylor said. ‘They could have been wearing gloves.’
    ‘Are you sure you checked the right four?’ Angel said.
    Taylor sighed. ‘Felix Lubrecki, Leo Altman, Erick Cartlett and Alexander Trott, sir,’ he said.
    Angel nodded. ‘That’s correct.’
    Flora said, ‘What I don’t understand, sir, is how that butler chap, Trott, got so much lead, antimony and barium residue on his clothes. After all, he was standing at the other side of the room from the shooter, nearest the victim.’
    Angel wrinkled his nose and said, ‘Well, we aretalking microscopic quantities, Flora. I expect the gunshot residues got onto Trott’s clothes when he leaned over Miss Minter to see what help he could render.’
    Taylor said, ‘Well, sir, it doesn’t look as if that test is going to help us in this case.’
    Angel said, ‘Well, so be it. There’s nothing more we can do here. Don, I want you and your team to go post-haste to a robbery scene on Hemmsfield Road. See if you can find any forensic. The Control Room has the exact location and background. Trevor Crisp is there; liaise with him. I hope to get there soon myself.’
    ‘Right, sir,’ he said, and he went out.
    Then Angel turned to DS Carter. ‘Flora, provided we have their names and addresses and phone numbers, you can tell the guests and staff they can leave. Ask Mr Trott to see me before he goes.’
    ‘Right, sir,’ she said.
    ‘And then come back here. I’ve got a job for you.’
    ‘Right, sir,’ she said again, and she went out.
    A few moments later, there was a knock on the door. It was Trott.
    Angel’s eyebrows shot up. He noticed that the butler was no longer in a morning suit; instead he was wearing a smart brown suit, cream shirt with a patterned tie and brown shoes.
    ‘Erm, you wanted to see me, Inspector?’ Trott said.
    ‘Come in, Mr Trott. Please sit down a moment.’
    The butler did not look his usual composed self. He was running his hand over his hair and touching his chin and mouth.
    ‘Yes,’ Angel said. ‘I need to know Miss Minter’s next ofkin. Can you tell me who that would be?’
    Trott frowned, then said, ‘I am not aware that she has any family living, Inspector, but I do know her solicitors are Pink and Cairncross on Eastgate. Mr Harry Cairncross used to visit her.’
    Angel made a note. ‘Thank you, Mr Trott. They probably know her next of kin and the contents of her will.’
    ‘Was there anything else?’
    ‘No. I don’t think so.’
    ‘I understand that you have finished your enquiries here,’ Trott said. ‘That pretty lady policewoman said that everybody should