Free A Little Murder by Suzette A. Hill Page A

think why … Anyway it wasn’t too difficult. The thing was brand new and there are only two shops in the London area that stock that sort – Gamages and Gorringes. Eight scuttles were bought on an account and yours happened to be one of them. Funny coincidence really, you being a friend of the deceased. Of course, what Harris was
hoping
was that one of those buyers would not be able to produce the item – it having been left on the murdered woman’s head. But as I told him, “Things don’t happen like that, old son. It’s a long shot too far!” And besides, I said, what about the three cash buyers? Odds on it was one of them … Still, he’s as keen as mustard is Harris, doesn’t do to damp his snout, all good practice.’
    ‘Good gracious,’ cried Cedric, ‘but just think, he might have been right! I mean supposing I had not been able to show you the thing. Whatever then?’
    ‘Ah well, then we would have had to take you in for questioning, wouldn’t we, Professor?’ Greenleaf gave a slow smile and wondered if he might wangle a cup of tea. He suspected not.

CHAPTER TEN
    When Rosy arrived at the solicitors’ office things seemed in a state of some disarray. Phones were ringing unheeded, an elderly female clerk was tutting and clucking, and a rather desiccated man was mopping his brow and muttering, ‘Disgraceful, disgraceful!’ It was unclear whom he was addressing and nobody seemed to care in any case. A young girl on the front desk smiled cheerfully at Rosy and said, ‘It’s all go, isn’t it!’
    ‘Er, yes, I suppose so,’ Rosy agreed doubtfully. ‘I have an appointment to visit my aunt’s house, The Larches. She, uhm, died recently and …’
    ‘Oh yes,’ the girl said, ‘I’ve got a note on that. Here’s the key.’ She fumbled under the counter and produced an envelope. ‘That will get you in but it must be back by five o’clock. Mr Hughes is very particular.’
    ‘But I thought somebody would be accompanying me—’ Rosy began.
    ‘Oh, not today they can’t,’ the girl replied, ‘there’s what you might call a
crisis
. As a matter of fact we get a lot ofthose and this time it’s Barbara. She’s had a turn and won’t be in so we’re short-staffed. You won’t mind will you?’
    ‘Er, no … no, not at all,’ said Rosy gratefully, grasping the envelope and preparing for rapid flight. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll bring it back in good time!’ The girl waved vaguely and picked up a nail file.

    She walked into the shadowy hall where, just as she had remembered, the portrait of the two donkeys, Jack and Jill, gazed down benignly from their place above the staircase. Whatever one’s view of donkeys, it had to be admitted that the picture was really a rather good likeness, and she wondered who the artist had been. Possibly one of the painting coterie Marcia had seemed so chummy with … though presumably not the ghastly Clovis Thistlehyde, first encountered at a Royal Academy private view and to whom she had taken an instant dislike. It had been an event which Marcia had also been attending, along with a few cronies including the Clovis person. He had been holding forth loudly – patronising, consciously witty and employing a jargon clearly designed to confuse rather than enlighten. It had been a tiresome display and matters had not improved when detaching himself from Marcia’s group he had made a beeline for Rosy and attempted to pick her up.
    ‘What’s a nice girl like you doing amongst us old codgers?’ he had oozed, placing a confident arm around her shoulders and leering hopefully.
    She had told him that even old codgers had their uses and would he kindly fetch her another glass of champagne. Alas, the requested champagne never materialised, for rather sourly he had wafted off to waylay a duchess in diamonds … No, she doubted whether Clovis Thistlehydewould ever sully his paintbrushes with anything as simple as donkeys.
    She moved into the drawing room, its blinds half