Black Widower by Patricia Moyes

Author:Patricia Moyes [Moyes, Patricia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Mystery & Detective, General, Police Procedural, Traditional
ISBN: 9781631941771
Google: 12N-DwAAQBAJ
Publisher: Felony & Mayhem Press
Published: 2018-12-14T13:00:00+00:00

“Certainly not! How dared he tell you such a thing!”

It was mid-afternoon, and Henry was in the drawing-room of the Holder-Wattses’ rented house, trying to get some information from Eleanor. He was not being very successful. She stood facing him, trembling with fury, two bright spots on her normally pale cheeks. Then she began to cry, pressing an inadequate handkerchief to her eyes. “It’s typical of him . . . trying to put me in a bad light. . . telling you lies about me . . .”

“But you did have a drinking problem, didn’t you?” Henry persisted.

“Of course not. I admit I used to take a drink now and again when I was so . . . so terribly lonely and depressed . . . but as soon as we moved to Tampica, everything was different. I simply stopped drinking because I’d never really enjoyed it. . .”

“You didn’t consult a doctor in London, then?”

“I consulted nobody.” Eleanor was recovering from her tears, and the anger was coming back. “Why Michael should go out of his way to discuss such a thing with you, and to tell you such lies . . .”

“I asked him because I thought it might have some bearing on Lady Ironmonger’s death—but it’s not important.” Henry glanced at the sheet of paper in his hand. “Now, to get back to the reception. There’s one small thing puzzling me, Mrs. Holder-Watts. If I’ve understood correctly, you took the Barringtons out into the garden at about a quarter to seven.”

“I suppose so. I didn’t make a special note of the time.”

“You then left them in the garden, saying you had to return to the reception.”

“That’s right,” said Eleanor.

“Now—” Henry tapped the paper. “I don’t want to split hairs, but the Barringtons arrived in the small library at seven, whereas you didn’t get back to the reception until about five past—after Lady Ironmonger’s outburst. Can you tell me how you spent that ten minutes or so?”

Eleanor Holder-Watts looked coldly at Henry. “Since this is a police investigation, I suppose I must answer impertinent questions, even though they have nothing to do with Mavis’s suicide. I went to the bathroom, as the Americans say. Does that satisfy you?”

“It’ll have to, won’t it?” said Henry.

At that moment, the telephone rang. Eleanor said, “Excuse me—” and went to answer it. Henry watched her as she walked across the room. She was thin, pale and parched, like a sheet of paper. Her feet seemed so light that the deep pile of the carpet did not register her tread. She picked up the telephone, and said, “Hello . . . yes, he is . . . yes, I’ll tell him . . . at once . . . yes, I understand . . . thank you . . .”

She rang off, and turned to face Henry. “That was a Mrs. Colville,” she said. “I believe you are staying with her. She’s been notified that there’s a call coming through for you in about ten minutes, from Dr.

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