An Act of Foul Play (A Lady Hardcastle Mystery) by T E Kinsey

Author:T E Kinsey [Kinsey, T E]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Thomas & Mercer
Published: 2022-11-29T05:00:00+00:00

Inspector Dick Wyatt was not pleased to see us. To save the potential inconvenience of our fake identities being tumbled by some familiar officer at the Bridewell, Lady Hardcastle telephoned Wyatt from the office of Mr Adlam, the theatre manager. She later reported that there had been a tense moment when Adlam had seemed to recognize her, but it passed without further incident and she made her call.

Wyatt arrived about fifteen minutes later and knocked on the door just as Sarah was coming to the end of a particularly ribald anecdote.

‘It’s open,’ she called, but returned immediately to her story. ‘And so she said, “But that was why we wanted the saucepan in the first place.” Ah, Inspector Wyatt. Do come in.’

A tall man in his mid-thirties, with a wispy moustache and a greasy stain on the lapel of his jacket, stood slightly hesitantly in the doorway, silhouetted by the harsh lights of the corridor. He seemed momentarily reluctant to enter. Then again, if I’d opened a door to find the room filled with four laughing women, one of them – dear Gwenith – guffawing like a drunk in the cheap seats at the music hall, I’d have been reluctant to enter, too. He looked about uncertainly.

‘Good afternoon, Lady Webster-Green,’ he said. ‘I spoke to you last evening, didn’t I?’

‘You did, Inspector,’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘After that poor man was killed in the workshop.’

‘Indeed, my lady.’

‘Have you caught the man responsible?’

‘Not yet, madam, no.’

‘But it certainly wasn’t Rosalie Harding.’

‘No, madam, she remains in custody. The officer who took your call said you have important information regarding the recent murder of Mr Paul Singleton.’

‘That’s right. Although it’s Miss Griffin who has the actual information. We were talking earlier this afternoon and it seems Miss Rosalie Harding was not only incapable of murdering the stagehand, she might not even be Singleton’s killer.’

‘I’ll be the judge of that, my lady,’ said Wyatt, fishing in his coat pocket for his notebook and pencil. He smiled at Sarah and said, ‘Now, Miss Griffin, what is this . . . information?’

I wondered if Lady Hardcastle might feel a little put out that he hadn’t used this flirtatious tone of voice with her.

‘Well, it’s as I was telling the ladies,’ said Sarah. ‘Little Rosie can’t have killed Paul, because she was with me when he died.’

Wyatt made a slow, laborious entry in his notebook.

‘I see,’ he said at last. ‘And how do you know when that was?’

Sarah ran through the story again, complete with the timeline of events we had put together between us. When she was done, there was another lengthy pause while Wyatt painstakingly wrote it all down.

‘I must say, it would have been more helpful if you could have mentioned all this when I spoke to you before, Miss Griffin,’ he said when he was finally finished. ‘But I can understand how distressed you must have been. Nevertheless, please bear in mind in future that wasting police time is a serious matter, most especially if it results in a wrongful arrest.

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