Murder at Hendon Aerodrome by Christina Koning

Author:Christina Koning
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Allison & Busby
Published: 2023-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

‘Hello? Mrs Metcalfe?’ he called, into the profound silence. Because it was obvious from the moment he set foot in the place that there was no one there. The big sitting room, with its box-shaped sofas and chairs, and glass and chrome occasional tables – one of which had nearly tripped him up, the day he’d been there for tea – now echoed hollowly to the sound of his footsteps.

‘Why, look,’ he heard the porter say. ‘Here are the blessed flowers, dropped on the floor. Seems an awful waste. Somebody ought to put ’em in water.’

But Rowlands was no longer listening. ‘Hello?’ he called again. ‘Anybody home?’ He pushed open the door of what he took to be a bedroom – hers, he guessed, from the smell of face powder and perfume. A second door yielded more masculine odours of leather and Bay Rum. Still nothing. And yet the porter had sworn he hadn’t seen her go out. He tried another door. This must be the child’s room, he thought. A smell of cough drops, and clothes airing on a fender. Next to this was a bathroom, to judge by the echo, as well as the faintly medicinal smell.

‘If you’re quite finished, sir …’ said the porter from the room beyond. But Rowlands hadn’t finished. Not yet. There was still a door left unopened. He opened it, and at once knew his worst fears had been justified. Because the smell that rushed out at him was the smell of death. Of blood – copious amounts of it. He took a cautious step inside the room, and felt his foot bump against something that was on the floor. At once he drew back and, careful not to disturb things any more than he had to, knelt down and reached out a hand to where he guessed she must be lying. ‘Mrs Metcalfe? Irene?’ he said softly, knowing that she was, in all probability, beyond hearing now.

Her head was the first thing he found – its crisp marcelled waves of hair had kept their shape, even in this extremity. He made himself feel down across the face to the throat, in case a pulse still beat there. But there was nothing; nor could he feel even the faintest breath. ‘My God,’ he murmured, pity and horror rising up in him at once. ‘Who could have done this?’ He moved his hand down the limp body until he found the place, just above the heart, where the fabric of the dress, now soaked with blood, had been pierced. Was there a flicker of movement? He couldn’t be sure. Using his clean folded handkerchief as a rudimentary pad, he placed both hands over the wound and bore down as hard as he could.

‘’Ere!’ said a voice from behind him. ‘What’s going on?’ The porter. He’d forgotten all about him.

‘Stay back,’ he said sharply. But his warning must have been ignored, for a moment later, there came an exclamation.

‘Oh, my Gawd.’

‘You’d better ring for an ambulance,’ said Rowlands.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.