Buried in the Past (Pollard & Toye Investigations Book 7) by Elizabeth Lemarchand

Author:Elizabeth Lemarchand [Lemarchand, Elizabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sapere Books
Published: 2019-01-07T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

At nine thirty on the following morning Pollard and Toye arrived at Edgehill Court, to keep an appointment with Shirley Stanton made over the telephone on the previous evening.

‘Picture, isn’t it?’ Toye remarked, as they walked across the gravel sweep to the front door and rang the bell.

Before Pollard could reply the door was opened by a tall, dark man, spruce in appearance and assured in manner.

‘Superintendent Pollard? I’m Gerald Stanton, Mrs Shirley Stanton’s husband. Do come in.’

‘You’re a solicitor, and the Town Clerk of Corbury, I think?’ Pollard said as they shook hands. ‘This is Inspector Toye, who is working with me on the case.’

Gerald Stanton acknowledged Toye pleasantly.

‘I see you’ve got us all taped,’ he said with a smile. ‘My wife’s in here.’

He led the way into a large room on the left, which Pollard immediately thought one of the most beautiful of its kind that he had ever seen. As they entered, a fair woman with a marked resemblance to her brother got up from a chair.

‘Won’t you sit down?’ she invited, when the Yard men had been introduced.

As they settled themselves Gerald Stanton, perched on the arm of a settee, glanced at his watch.

‘Do forgive me,’ he said. ‘I know this isn’t according to the book when Scotland Yard pay one a visit, but I’m due in court in half an hour, and there’s something involving myself I’d like to tell you, Superintendent. May I go ahead?’

‘By all means,’ Pollard replied, concealing his surprise.

‘It arises out of a phone call from my brother-in-law last night, after you had seen him at the Pottery.’ Gerald Stanton crossed one foot over the other, and sat with folded arms. ‘According to him, you people now think that 14 December may be the operative date in this extraordinary disappearance of Bernard Lister from Warhampton. Of course, down here we only see the national papers, and a rehash of the week’s news in our local rag. Perhaps there was fuller reporting in the Warhampton area. But the impression I, at least, formed was that the police were working on the theory that he had gone off on holiday, and vanished while away.’

‘Looking back on it now,’ Shirley Stanton said, ‘I can see that I rather took that for granted, too. The fact that the description of Bernard was so widely circulated, and appeals made for anyone who had seen him anywhere to come forward did suggest it.’

‘I haven’t yet studied the Press coverage at the time,’ Pollard told them, ‘but from what you say, it sounds as though your deduction was a perfectly understandable one. How do you come in, then, Mr Stanton?’

Gerald Stanton met his eyes and grinned.

‘I was in Warhampton for the best part of 14 December last. Very fully occupied in defending a client in the Crown Court, but there I was. He was a local chap, up on a dangerous driving charge, George Phillips by name.’

‘That seems a very convincing reason for your presence. Did you by any chance encounter Mr Bernard Lister?’

‘I did not.

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