Free Corpse in Waiting by Margaret Duffy Page A

and James. But he has no axe to grind.’
    â€˜No, obviously, it couldn’t be him but someone might have overheard the conversation.’
    â€˜But who the hell else in this neck of the woods would care a toss about Alexandra Nightingale?’
    After an edgy pause Patrick said, ‘The quandary’s to do with the fact that I shall have to ask her about this. And about this man.’
    â€˜Yes, you will.’
    â€˜And you must understand that I shall have to carry on being friendly, otherwise I won’t get anywhere.’
    â€˜You don’t usually bother with cosying up to suspects,’ I declared. ‘I’ve actually been present when you’ve mentally, and sometimes physically, taken them apart!’
    â€˜Look, I know you’re annoyed about this but—’
    â€˜No, I’m not annoyed, I’m absolutely furious and also scared. For myself, your parents and for the children.’
    â€˜You said you were going to pull out of buying the house. Have you?’
    â€˜No, not yet. I’m undecided.’
    â€˜Then perhaps you should think of your own priorities.’
    I stared disbelievingly at him. ‘Are you saying that I ought to call off the sale because of the phone call?’
    â€˜It might be the sensible thing to do.’
    â€˜And you? Shall I give her a ring and say she can have you as well?’
    He made no comment and left the room.
    He was right up to a point; I had to get my priorities right. I shut down the computer having made a few notes of ideas for the plot that had, oddly, just come into my head, mechanically tidied the desk and then went into the entrance hall in time to see the front door close. A quick peep through a window told me that Patrick was just getting into the Range Rover. Unless he had loaded it earlier he did not appear to have any luggage with him. This suggested he was going to talk to Alexandra, if indeed she was still at her hotel, before returning the vehicle and calling a taxi to take him to the station. Good, not that he usually drove to London.
    It was a surprise then when he came into the kitchen a minute or so later.
    â€˜I’ve just had a call from Carrick. David Bennett’s due to arrive on a flight from Johannesburg at thirteen hundred hours today. I’ll have to talk to Alexandra another time and catch a train.’
    â€˜I’ll drive you to the station,’ I offered.
    â€˜Oh, all right.’
    Patrick seemed a little surprised when I parked the car on double yellow lines, went right into the station with him and, very shortly, waved him into a first-class carriage. When I got back a traffic warden was just about to write out a parking ticket.
    â€˜Serious Organized Crime Agency,’ I said, waving my warrant card beneath his nose. ‘Sorry, but it’s a top priority case.’
    For some reason this worked and I felt even guiltier when he practically bowed me into the car.
    Alexandra was staying at the Albany hotel which was in the city centre, not far from the Orange Grove.
    â€˜I have an appointment with Miss Nightingale at eleven thirty,’ I told one of the young women on the reception desk. ‘But I’m dreadfully early. Is it all right if I wait here for her and perhaps order coffee?’
    â€˜Yes, of course, madam. I happen to know she’s out at the moment. I don’t usually remember guests but she has such brilliant blue eyes her name stuck in my mind.’
    â€˜She didn’t say where she was going, I suppose?’ I risked asking. ‘Only I’ve come quite a long way and if she’s forgotten . . .’ I assumed a rueful expression.
    â€˜No, I’m sorry, she didn’t.’
    â€˜Excuse me, but are you talking about the lady in Room 354 who went out a little while ago?’ said another receptionist.
    The girl to whom I was talking said we were.
    â€˜I don’t think she’ll be all that long. She asked me the