D.I. Angel Mystery Books 15-21 by Roger Silverwood

Author:Roger Silverwood
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Joffe Books crime, thriller, mystery and suspense box sets
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

10

Angel urgently wanted the specimen from the comb and hair taken from the victim’s body to be despatched to the police laboratory at Wetherby by special post that day for comparison to confirm (or otherwise) that the deceased was indeed the woman, Wendy Green. So, as soon as he had finished at the house, he drove the BMW back to the police station with Flora Carter and dropped her off so that she could attend to it. He urgently needed to see Ephemore Sharpe. He had wanted to interview her himself and had postponed the meeting several times because other important matters had cropped up. If she was in any way responsible for the deaths of Julius Hobbs and Wendy Green, he didn’t want to give her any more time to prepare an alibi or cover up evidence.

He drove the BMW purposefully through the town to Wakefield Road, turned right up Ashfield Road and up to the end to Ashfield Lodge Farm, where he parked the car by the side of the road, behind a pickup truck with a commercial lawn mower, a wheelbarrow and long-handled hoes and rakes loaded on it.

He crossed the pavement and reached out to open the farm gate. Then he heard someone speaking loudly. It came from a man standing facing the front door of the farmhouse. Angel assumed he was addressing Ephemore Sharpe, so he dodged back behind the wall.

‘It’s only sixty pounds, Miss Sharpe,’ he heard the man say. ‘This is the third time I’ve been back.’

Angel recognized him. It was Philip Pryce, the jobbing gardener he had met cutting the lawn at the back of the St Magdalene’s Hospital on Rustle Spring Lane.

‘I said I’d take a cheque but you said you’d run out of cheques,’ the man said.

Angel strained to hear her reply. She sounded huffy. ‘I hope to get to the bank tomorrow, Pryce,’ she said. ‘I’ll post it on to you then.’

‘No, I prefer to call for it, Miss, if you don’t mind.’

‘Well, if you must. Make it tomorrow afternoon,’ she said.

‘I’m working tomorrow afternoon, Miss,’ he said. ‘I’ll call for it on Saturday morning. Thank you very much.’

The door closed with a bang.

A solemn looking Pryce turned away from the door and made his way across the yard.

Angel opened the farmyard gate and stood back to allow Pryce through.

When Pryce saw him, his face brightened. ‘Thank you,’ he said.

Angel nodded.

Then Pryce looked back and said, ‘It’s Inspector Angel isn’t it?’

‘It is.’

‘Thought any more about your garden, sir?’ he said. ‘I said I’d give you a special rate.’

Angel smiled. ‘No thanks,’ he said, as he closed the gate. ‘I’m managing at the moment.’ He nodded towards the house. ‘Having difficulty getting paid? Couldn’t help but overhear.’

He shrugged but didn’t smile. ‘I do her garden for her. Cut the lawn, do the weeding, keep it right, and I feed the cats for her when she’s not well or goes into hospital. But it’s always the same with her.’

‘Sorry to hear it.

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