Corridors of Death by Ruth Dudley Edwards

Author:Ruth Dudley Edwards
Language: eng, eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Poisoned Pen Press
Published: 2012-09-06T16:00:00+00:00

Wednesday Afternoon

Chapter Twenty-two

Milton was in a rage, as much with himself for failing to make a simple routine check, as with the P.C. involved, who had been one of those investigating the Monday lunchtime movements of all the staff in Embankment Tower, government employees or otherwise (the building housed a number of unrelated enterprises).

‘Why in Christ’s name didn’t he let us know the minute he found out that Nigel Clark worked in that building?’ he yelled at Romford.

‘I suppose he thought we’d know.’

‘And why didn’t we?’

‘Because no one told us,’ said Romford reasonably.

Milton’s fairmindedness reasserted itself. Romford was right. It was more his own fault than anyone else’s; he had made an unwarranted assumption: tight security would have stopped any outsiders getting through the net unobserved, true, but why had he blindly categorized Nigel Clark as such an outsider? The rawest recruit, given the opportunity Milton had had, would have asked Nigel about his movements on Monday—a matter of routine, whether or not the hypothetical investigator had known that Embankment Tower housed other enterprises besides offshoots of government.

‘Seems a bit odd, sir, that he didn’t mention it to you this morning.’

Are you rubbing my nose in it, Romford? ‘It does indeed. He doesn’t have an alibi, and he must have known that if I knew where he worked I’d have questioned him about what he was doing. That young man is going to regret being shifty with me. Ring him up and tell him I want to see him here at 4.00 this afternoon. I should be finished with Jenkins well before that. Don’t accept any excuses, but don’t put the wind up him. You know how to handle it.’

He returned to his papers, still fuming with himself. He wondered glumly how he was going to explain it away to the Assistant Commissioner. It wouldn’t be easily forgiven if he didn’t come up with a murderer pretty quickly.

It was one o’clock—time he sent out for a sandwich. No, better make it two. He wouldn’t be eating until late that evening. Oh, Christ, it would be curry again. This was getting beyond a joke. Surely it wasn’t impossible to think of an alternative unfashionable restaurant with dim lighting and foreign waiters.

Ten minutes later, he was biting into a soggy salad sandwich when his telephone rang.

‘May I speak to Superintendent Milton, please? It’s Robert Amiss here from the Department of Conservation.’

‘Good Lord, Robert. Aren’t you breaking cover?’

‘No, Jim. I’ve found something I can tell you about formally, for once. As you’re obviously alone, however, I’ll be able to pass on as well the illicit information I’ve been trying to speak to your wife about this morning.’

Amiss was brief and to the point. J. Ritchie’s confidential investigations came as a bombshell to Milton. ‘Where did you find this?’ he choked, when he had taken details.

‘In the security cabinet in Sir Nicholas’s room.’

‘But we checked that. There was nothing of any importance in it.’

‘I’m sorry, Jim, but you overlooked this.’

Milton’s humiliation was complete. ‘That’s the second bloomer I’ve made already on this case.

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