Holy Treasure! by David Williams

Author:David Williams
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pan Macmillan UK
Published: 2016-12-20T12:31:02+00:00

Chapter Eleven

‘Detective Inspector Daynon,’ announced Miss Gaunt, holding the door into Treasure’s office wide open. It was Friday mid-morning, and the eighth day since Mrs Cudlum’s death.

‘Good morning, Mr Treasure. Sorry to impose at short notice. Thank you for seeing me.’

‘Not at all. So how can I help you?’ said the banker as the two shook hands.

Daynon was in his early thirties, medium height and thickset, with the springy movements of a boxer. His black hair was short but well styled. The dark eyes, below straight, thick brows, were busy and intelligent; the mouth drooped at the edges; the jaw was square. His speaking voice was low-pitched, and the words clipped, with just a touch of East London in the intonation. The first impression was of a businesslike man who probably didn’t laugh a lot. He was dressed in a neat, single-breasted grey flannel suit, a white shirt and a sobre, red-patterned tie.

‘It’s about the death of Mrs Angela Elizabeth Cudlum,’ he said, taking the seat Treasure had indicated at the round table.

‘So you mentioned to my secretary,’ said Treasure, sitting two chairs away from the visitor. ‘Very sad business. We were at the meeting the night she died. But perhaps you know that? My wife was at the funeral on Tuesday.’

‘I’ve just come from the inquest, sir.’

‘Ah, I gather it was adjourned from Monday. Didn’t hold up the funeral, though. So what was the verdict? Accident I suppose?’ ‘No. Murder. By a person or persons unknown. The jury was unanimous.’ The policeman was studying the other’s reaction to these sharply delivered intelligences.

‘You surprise me.’ Treasure rubbed a cheek with the tips of his fingers. ‘In fact, you astonish me. I understood the deodand was a falling slate.’

‘The what?’

‘The deodand. The object deemed by its movement to have been the cause of a death by misadventure. Sorry, my Uncle John was a coroner. Please go on.’

‘Deodand. Very interesting.’ Daynon gave an energetic nod before continuing. ‘The murder weapon was a slate all right. But it didn’t fall on her. Someone slammed it into the back of her neck. Very hard. From behind.’

‘Like a rabbit punch?’

‘Yes, but worse than that. The impact would probably have killed her anyway. But both vertebral arteries were severed as well.’

‘Which would mean a pretty quick death?’

‘That’s right. Looked at clinically, it was an accurate job with an unwieldy implement. The forensic reports were very straight-forward and specific.’

‘I see. I gather she had an open knife in her hand. Is that significant?’

‘We don’t know for sure. Not yet. But it’s possible she was using it to defend herself.’

‘So now you’re looking for a murderer?’

‘But not here, sir,’ the other offered promptly with a twitch of a smile, and eyes continuing overtly to docket all Treasure’s responses. ‘Mrs Cudlum died at between ten-nineteen and ten-twenty-two. I understand you and your wife were with Mrs Monica Lodey at Kengrave House at that time?’

‘Yes. Let’s see . . . Yes, as far as I remember from about nine forty-five to ten-thirty.

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