Free Death Dues by Geraldine Evans Page A

close proximity to the alley to point to any one of the debtors on Harrison’s round having murdered him. ‘I’ll need to know the names of those who issued the threats. One of them might be Mr Harrison’s murderer.’
    Forbes leaned back in his chair and gazed at him from under his thick, black brows. ‘I doubt it. Weak old men and stupid women, most of them. Harrison was a strong man. A big, muscular man. It would take, I would have thought, someone with the strength stronger than their threat to kill him.’
     ‘Maybe so. But we have to investigate every avenue. One of them will lead us to the murderer.’
    Rafferty glanced quickly through John Harrison’s staff file. There wasn’t much of it; references about good behaviour and a pleasing disposition were unlikely to be required in Forbes’s business. A full set of muscles and a menacing air provided all the references required. He hefted Harrison’s file and asked, ‘OK if we take this?’
    Forbes gave a shrug of acquiescence. ‘No use to me.’
    Rafferty handed Harrison’s file to Llewellyn and reminded Forbes, ‘About those threats. If I can have some names?’
    Forbes shrugged his meaty shoulders again. ‘As I said, threats are an occupational hazard. I only hear about them if my collectors feel something might come of them.’
    ‘And did Mr Harrison mention any such threats?’
    ‘One or two.’ Forbes shifted in his chair and it gave a protesting creak. It was a big, sturdy executive chair, but it clearly found Forbes’s weight at the edge of its limits. ‘A couple of little old ladies who were more feisty than usual, that’s all. Nothing to frighten a grown man. He only told me about them because he wanted to give me a good laugh. Names of Mrs Noades and Miss Peterson.’
    Rafferty did a quick check of his memory banks. Neither of the women lived on Primrose Avenue. ‘So nobody from Primrose Avenue threatened him?’
    ‘Not to my knowledge. If they did, he didn’t see fit to mention it to me.’ Forbes rose from his chair, his bulk seemed to fill a good half of the cramped office. ‘If that’s all?’
    Rafferty nodded, glad he wasn’t on the receiving end of intimidation from such a man. It was clear there was little else to be gained by prolonging the conversation. ‘We’ll see ourselves out.’
    ‘All right?’ the assistant asked as they came through the door.
    Rafferty nodded and thanked him.
    The assistant let them out through the grille. And once they were back on the street, Rafferty said, ‘Mr Forbes wasn’t too chatty, was he, seeing as it’s one of his staff who’s dead. Reckon he intends to find out who killed Harrison himself and mete out his own punishment?’
    ‘It would certainly fit his profile.’
    ‘Or maybe he’s hiding something else?’
    ‘What? Do you think he might have had something to do with Mr Harrison’s death?’
     ‘I don’t know. Why would he? The only reason I can think of is if Harrison was helping himself to some of the money he collected and Forbes found out about it.’
    Although  the rain had stopped, it was another chilly day. Rafferty said, ‘Come on, let’s step on it and get back to the car. My feet are like blocks of ice.’
    They increased their pace, rounded the corner, and made for the car.
    ‘But would he murder Harrison if so?’ Llewellyn mused out loud on Rafferty’s previous point. ‘Rather a drastic way of teaching someone a lesson.’
    ‘Mmm. Admittedly, it would be difficult to learn that or any other lesson when you’re dead. But maybe Forbes would be more concerned with keeping up his reputation as a man not to be crossed. Collectors like Harrison are probably ten a penny. Nothing like throwing your weight about and getting paid for it. It must be a nice little number for a certain type of man.’
    Rafferty opened the car door and got in, glad to get out of the wind. He started the engine and turned the heater up to its maximum setting, willing it to kick in