Free Angel and the Actress by Roger Silverwood Page B

leave now, which made me suddenly realize that I am no longer in employment. For the first time in my life I am … I am out of work.’
    ‘I shouldn’t think you’d have much difficulty getting a new position.’
    Trott shook his head. ‘There’s such a lot of unemployment and hardship about.’
    ‘After all you didn’t get the sack, did you?’ Angel said. ‘And I trust you have some savings to tide you over for a week or two while you find something.’
    ‘Well, I have, of course. And I could go and stay with my sister in Southport for a while. But I would rather stay here. I have my own room and all my things are here. Do you think that would be possible?’
    ‘It’s not for me to say, Mr Trott. But I shouldn’t think anybody would have any objection if you stayed for a few days. Give my “pretty sergeant” your new address, whatever you decide.’
    ‘Yes, Inspector. I will. And thank you. You’ve cheered me up.’
    Angel smiled.
    ‘There’s something else, Inspector. Well, two things, really. Have you found out who murdered Miss Minter?’
    ‘No, Mr Trott. But we will.’
    Trott smiled. ‘Good. Your name came to me the other day. Inspector Angel. You’re a celebrity, aren’t you? You’re the policeman who always gets his man, like the Mounties. I’ve read about you in a magazine somewhere. And there are so many murders that are never solved, but you’ve always managed to solve your cases and catch the murderer, haven’t you?’
    Angel rubbed his chin, blew out a long breath and said, ‘Well, I have up to now.’ Then he quickly added, ‘What was the other thing?’
    Trott was still smiling. ‘Oh yes,’ he said, then he frowned. ‘Miss Bell, Miss Minter’s secretary and the caterers, Mr and Mrs Jones, have not been paid. I somehow feel responsible …’
    Angel said, ‘I should recommend them to contact Miss Minter’s solicitors.’
    Trott smiled. ‘Yes, of course,’ he said.
    He stood up and turned towards the door. ‘Now why didn’t I think of that?’ he added. ‘Thank you, Inspector. Goodbye.’
    As he went out, Flora Carter came in.
    ‘Everybody seems pleased except the caterers, sir,’ she said.
    ‘They’ll be worried about being paid,’ Angel said. Then he added, ‘Flora, I want you to call on Mrs Vera Sellars. She lives at number 24 on this road. That’s the woman who had her handbag stolen recently. Get a list of everythingthat was in it. Everything . You understand?’
    ‘Right, sir.’
    ‘I’m going to Hemmsfield junction.’
     
    It was two o’clock when Angel arrived at the road junction where the Slater Security van had crashed and been robbed. The area was taped off and No Entry signs and diversion signs were all round the locale.
    A uniformed constable recognized Angel in the BMW. He saluted him, lifted the tape and waved him underneath. Angel saw Crisp’s car and parked next to it. As he got out he saw that Crisp was in the car with two men in Slater Security livery.
    The SOCO van was parked ten yards further away alongside the wreck, and DS Taylor and a detective constable were in their white disposable paper suits, carefully picking their way through the back of the wrecked blue and white van.
    Another SOCO was in the cab of the Volkswagen with a flask of aluminium powder and a brush, looking for fingerprints.
    Angel went up to DS Crisp’s car and opened the door.
    Crisp made the introductions, then Angel looked at Crisp and said, ‘Can I have a word, Trevor?’ Then he left the car door open and walked a few paces away.
    Crisp got out, closed the car door and went up to him.
    Angel said, ‘Did they see any of the gang’s faces?’
    ‘No, sir. There were four in the gang, all wearing black or navy-blue balaclavas, and three of them – they’d be in their twenties and thirties – were wearing jeans, woollen jumpers and trainers. The fourth, who seemed to be thegang leader, had very broad shoulders and was about forty. He was the one who rammed the