A Fire at the Exhibition by T. E. Kinsey

Author:T. E. Kinsey [Kinsey, T. E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, Historical, Adventure
ISBN: 9781662512933
Amazon: B0C37SCSVH
Goodreads: 137674182
Publisher: Thomas & Mercer
Published: 2023-09-05T07:00:00+00:00

John Nurse had seemed bold and confident as he announced Blackmore’s murder at the Dog and Duck, but here in the cluttered scoutmaster’s office he seemed much less sure of himself. He was tall, but in the presence of a police inspector and two strangers from a neighbouring village he seemed somehow diminished.

‘Mr Nurse,’ said the inspector, warmly. ‘Please take a seat. I’m sure Mr Parslow has already told you, but I’m Inspector Sunderland of the Bristol CID and I’m investigating the death of Mr Russell Blackmore at the request of the Gloucestershire force.’

‘Yes,’ said Nurse. ‘He did say.’ His voice was quiet, his manner unsure.

‘Excellent. And my friends here are Lady Hardcastle and Miss Armstrong of Littleton Cotterell. They’ve assisted me in many cases in the past and I find their help invaluable.’

Nurse nodded to us both in turn.

‘Now, then,’ continued the inspector. ‘You’re the clerk at Leighton’s Coal Merchants, I believe.’

‘I am,’ said Nurse.

‘And you’re a member of the committee of . . . the Woodworthy and Littleton Cotterell Cycling Club, is that correct?’

Lady Hardcastle had her back to me so I couldn’t tell for sure, but I’d have been willing to bet she was smiling at the care the inspector took to get the village names in the right order.

‘That’s correct,’ said Nurse. ‘I’m the club secretary.’

‘And Mr Blackmore was on the committee, too?’

‘Social secretary.’

‘Did he work with you at Leighton’s?’

‘No, he worked in town. He was an engineer.’

The inspector nodded. I was sure he knew all this already, but it never hurts to make a witness comfortable with some easy initial questions.

‘Thank you. And did you know Mr Blackmore well?’

‘Very well. We weren’t what you might call pals, but we got along fine. I liked him. I believe “charming” is the word people most often used to describe him.’

‘I see,’ said the inspector. He paused for a moment and it took me only slightly less than the length of his pause to work out that he was making sure that Lady Hardcastle had time to make her notes. ‘Tell me about the cycle race on the twelfth.’

‘We had been making the arrangements for weeks,’ began Nurse.

‘You and Mr Blackmore?’

‘No, I meant the committee. Blackmore was involved, of course, but he worked in the city so he was unable to get to all our meetings. He took care of peripheral things – making sure the village pub knew how many to expect, publicity, flyers. Things he could get on with without needing to attend endless meetings.’

‘I see,’ said the inspector. ‘Thank you.’

‘We advised the police of the proposed route,’ continued Nurse, ‘briefed volunteer marshals, made signs . . . we thought of everything. It was perfect. We set off a few minutes late because of delays at the registration desk.’ He looked at Lady Hardcastle and me. ‘You were there. You saw how popular it was.’

‘It was very busy,’ I said, to save Lady Hardcastle looking up from her note-taking. ‘I was surprised.’

‘So were we, honestly,’ he said.

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