Free The Lately Deceased by Bernard Knight Page A

it’s got to be one of this shower.’ He pointed at the pile of statements.
    â€˜Let’s pick out the probables, then,’ persisted Grey, undeterred. He quietly sorted through the forms until he had a small sheaf of buff papers laid out on the desk.
    â€˜What about these. Super?’ he asked handing the papers over. Meredith scanned quickly through them, reading out the names and main points in their statements.
    â€˜Geoffrey Arthur Tate, public relations officer. This chap seems to be a close friend of Walker’s. Says that relations between Walker and the deceased were distant but amicable. Doesn’t say much about the party, only that there was a lot of drinking, but no fights or threats.’
    He turned to the next paper and read it aloud.
    â€˜Eve Louise Arden, twenty-six, television artist. I remember her, a nice little blonde. But she doesn’t seem to have the slightest connection with this business.’
    He turned to the next one, and his brows came together in an effort of concentration. ‘Leo Prince … I know his face, but I can’t place it. He says he’s a theatrical agent.’
    â€˜That could cover a wide range of fiddles,’ said Stammers.
    â€˜Yes, I’ll swear he’s on the books at the Yard somewhere, probably under another name. Masters, get hold of him first thing tomorrow and sweat him a bit. See if he’s using a different name. Then check the prints we found at the flat; his might be on the record. I’ll stake my boots he’s an old customer in some shape or other.’
    Stammers could tell that Old Nick, for all his grousing, was enjoying himself. His unusual talkativeness was a sure sign of his contentment.
    â€˜Abel Franklin, cameraman. No, nothing that matters there. His story is the same as all the rest.’
    There was silence for a moment as the superintendent looked through the remainder and found nothing worth comment.
    â€˜What about this Myers business, then?’ he demanded, leaning back and throwing down the bundle of papers. ‘When can we hope to hear from the hospital?’
    â€˜All they know is that he was found at the bottom of his basement flat steps about an hour after leaving that party,’ said Masters. ‘They say he has a fractured skull and they’ll give no opinion as to when, if ever, he’s likely to come around.’
    â€˜Nothing to suggest foul play?’
    â€˜Not a thing, sir. He was found by the man on the beat lying at the bottom of the area steps. The gate at the top was open and he could quite well have staggered into the open gap in the dark, especially if he was drunk. We don’t even know how he got home to Canonbury. If he took a taxi from the flat in Beachy Street why didn’t the driver see him fall, or hear him? Or, if he didn’t drive straight home – say he stopped the cab halfway and walked the rest – why should he do so? There must be some reason behind it, whatever he did. We’re trying to trace the taxi driver who took him, if there was one, but no luck so far.’
    Meredith considered these words for some seconds.
    â€˜Any need to put a man at the bedside?’ he asked at length.
    â€˜I asked the doctor that, sir,’ Masters replied. ‘He said no, he might be in coma for days, or even weeks. He promised to let us know the moment he showed any signs of life.’
    Meredith sighed. ‘Ah well, if he’s as much use as the rest of these witnesses, he may as well stay in a coma … he’ll be no loss to us.’
    The discussion went on for some time longer, each possible motive being applied to each witness as their statements were reread. Little progress was made and at nine o’clock they broke up to go home, unable to make any more progress until they’d heard what the lawyer had to say about the will in the morning.
    As they left the station, Meredith reminded Masters to keep up the search