Free Hell Is Always Today by Jack Higgins Page B

most important he’s had. It started as a single figure four or five weeks ago and now comprises a group of four. He was discussing with me earlier the question of adding a fifth to give the thing balance.”
    Miller nodded. “Yes, he did mention that.”
    “Then why did you have to ask?” Joanna Hartmann said sharply.
    Miller frowned. “I’m afraid I don’t follow you.”
    “Are we to take it that my fiancé is under some kind of suspicion in this business?”
    “Routine, Joanna, pure routine at the moment. But it has to be done, you must see that surely.”
    “I don’t at all,” she said hotly. “What I do see is that you were a guest in my house earlier this evening because I had imagined you a friend.”
    “Rubbish,” Miller said crisply. “You asked me to your party for one reason only. Because my brother is probably the most influential man in Northern Television and you’re worried because you’ve heard there’s talk of taking off your series at the end of this season.”
    “How dare you?” Mary Beresford said. “I’ll complain to your superiors.”
    “You can do what you damned well like,” Miller helped himself to a cigarette from a box on the table and smiled calmly. “With my present service and including certain special payments my annual salary at the moment as a Detective Sergeant is one thousand three hundred and eighty-two pounds, Mrs. Beresford. It might interest you to know that every penny of it goes for income tax. Gives me a wonderful feeling of freedom when I’m dealing with people like you.”
    He turned back to Joanna Hartmann. “Whether you like it or not you’ve got a few unpleasant facts to face. Number one as far as I’m concerned is that Grace Packard was murdered within an hour of leaving this flat in company with your fiancé, so don’t start trying to get on your high horse because we have the impudence to suggest that he might be able to help us with our enquiries.”
    “I’m Mr. Faulkner’s solicitor,” Jack Morgan said. “Why wasn’t I present when he was questioned?”
    “Why not ask him? He was certainly offered the privilege.” Miller turned very quickly, moved to the door and opened it. “I’ll probably have to see you again, Miss Hartmann,” he said formally. “We’d appreciate it if you’d make yourself available during the next couple of days.”
    “But Miss Hartmann’s due in London tomorrow for an important business conference,” Frank Marlowe said.
    “I can’t prevent her going,” Miller said, “but it would certainly be a great pity if Faulkner happened to need her and she wasn’t here.”
    He closed the door and chuckled grimly as he went along the corridor to the lift. He’d certainly stirred things up there. It would be more than interesting to see what the outcome, if any, would be.
     
    The heavy silence after Miller had gone out was first broken by Frank Marlowe. “I don’t like the smell of this—don’t like it at all.”
    “Neither do I,” Jack Morgan said.
    Joanna went up the steps to the door, opened a cupboard and took out a sheepskin coat. She pulled it on quickly.
    “Did you come in your car, Jack?”
    “Yes.”
    “Good…I’d like you to run me round to Bruno’s.”
    Her aunt put a hand on her arm as if she would restrain her. “For goodness’ sake, Joanna, don’t be a fool. Stay out of this.”
    Joanna turned on her fiercely. “You don’t like him, do you, Aunt Mary. You never did. Because of that you want to believe that he’s somehow mixed up in this business. Well, I never will.”
    The old woman turned away, suddenly looking her age and Frank Marlowe said, “Want me to come?”
    Joanna shook her head. “Better not. Would you mind hanging on till we get back?”
    “I’ll be here.”
    Jack Morgan opened the door for her and as Joanna turned, her aunt made a final try. “Joanna,” she said sharply. “You must listen to me. It’s for your own good. Think of your career. You can’t afford