The Altered Case by Peter Turnbull

Author:Peter Turnbull [Turnbull, Peter]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, Mystery
Publisher: Severn House Publishers
Published: 2012-02-28T05:00:00+00:00

FOUR

Wednesday, 09.30 hours

in which Somerled Yellich and Reginald Webster travel south, Thomson Ventnor meets a lady who is much befitted by means of upward social mobility and George Hennessey is at home to the too kind reader.

Somerled Yellich and Reginald Webster took the East Coast Mainline service from York to London. Yellich, as the senior officer, sat facing the direction of travel with Webster sitting opposite him with his back to the southwards. They were, they felt, fortunate to be able to acquire seats on the east side of the train which, at any time after ten a.m. is the ‘shady side’, thus their enjoyment of the view of passing landscape was not ruined by the glare of the sun. Upon arriving at King’s Cross station, the officers, as all passengers, were amused by the jovial train manager announcing over the public address system, ‘Well, as you can see ladies and gentlemen, we have managed to find London’, and continued expressing his hope that all customers had had a pleasant journey and urging people to ensure that they take all their belongings with them when they leave the train.

From King’s Cross Yellich and Webster took the tube the short, two stop distance, to Camden. The distance in question they both accepted was walkable, easily so, but they both feared losing time by taking a wrong turn here and there, and were keen to keep their appointment. The officers duly arrived at 193A Delancey Street, NW1, a few minutes past midday, finding the address in question to be that of a Victorian era terraced property on four floors, set back from the pavement by just a matter of a few feet and which had, by its twin doorbells, been separated at some point into two independent properties.

Yellich pressed the doorbell above the name ‘Parr’ which was displayed on a plastic tablet in black letters on a pearl-grey background. The front door of the house was opened within a matter of seconds by a middle-aged man. He was tall, almost as tall as the two officers and casually dressed in a blue tee shirt and denims, with his feet looking to be very comfortably encased in moccasins. His hair had greyed but was long and he wore it tied behind his head in a ponytail. He was, thought the officers, very Camden, very Camden, indeed. ‘Mr Yellich and Mr Webster?’ He extended his right hand.

‘Yes, sir.’ Yellich accepted the man’s hand, finding Nigel Parr’s handshake to be manly, firm, but not overly compressing. ‘I am DS Yellich. This is DC Webster.’ Yellich showed Parr his ID as Parr and Webster engaged in a short shaking of hands.

‘You made good time, gentlemen.’ Parr stepped to one side. ‘Please do come in.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Yellich stepped over the threshold of the property. ‘It is an excellent service from York to London, just above two hours.’

‘Well, do come in, please, gentlemen. A nice day for September though rain is forecast, or “called” as my Canadian friends would say.

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