The Artful Egg by James McClure

Author:James McClure [McClure, James]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery
ISBN: 9780394721262
Publisher: Soho Crime
Published: 1984-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

Hopeful Dumela put his head into the main interrogation room and said: “Excuse me, Lieutenant sir, but Colonel Muller is coming down the corridor.”

“You’ll go far,” murmured Kramer, as he stepped past him through the doorway. “Hello, Colonel. Any news, sir?”

“Of?”

“Doc Strydom’s little games with his microscope.”

“No, not a word yet,” said Colonel Muller, looking very agitated. “And you? What have Mrs. Stride’s servants got to say for themselves?”

“A lot, sir—but nothing that’s been a big help so far. They say she was a good, kind madam, that she had fights with her son over money, that nobody came as a visitor to the house during the week before they left. The cook remembers her burning some blue envelopes in the Aga stove in the kitchen last Wednesday, but says he didn’t see their contents. The most we’ve got out of them is that nowhere in the house did she keep a sword.”

“What’s that noise?”

“The maidservant can’t stop crying, sir.”

“Zondi hasn’t been—!” Colonel Muller gulped. “Didn’t I tell you I’ve got Time and all the rest on my bloody doorstep?”

“Ach, nothing like that, Colonel. She says her heart is sore for her white madam.”

“Oh, really? Huh! And is that it, the sum total of their statements?”

Kramer nodded. “Tomorrow,” he said, “Zondi will take them over to the house to see if they can notice anything missing, et cetera.”

“A long shot, man! But why not tonight?”

“They’re in no condition, sir. Dumela’s had them on the road all day.”

Colonel Muller shook his head dolefully. “God in Heaven,” he said, “unless something happens soon with this Stride case, the press are going to start looking elsewhere for a story—and the last thing I want is them getting hold of the Zuidmeyer business.”

“But I thought Jones was working on a new lead? He sort of dropped a hint to that effect when I crossed paths with him in the courtyard.”

“Didn’t he tell you what it was?”

Kramer shook his head. “I think he wants to keep all the glory to himself, sir. Another of his bullshit theories, I suppose.”

“Actually, he may be on to something. What it boils down to is that Pillay, the postman who found the body, could be involved in some fashion.”

“You’re joking, Colonel! Zondi—”

“Zondi can what? Explain where Pillay has vanished to and all the rest of it?”

“The rest of what, Colonel?”

“Tromp,” said Colonel Muller, glancing at his watch, “it’s not really your worry, hey? I’m the one who’s doing the co-ordination, and for now you’re supposed to be concentrating on the Zuidmeyers, OK? That is top priority. Ach, I really must be going; it’s after eight o’clock, and Mrs. Muller is waiting supper for me.”

Kramer watched him hurry off, then turned just as Zondi emerged from the interrogation room. “Well, Mickey?”

“Still nothing, boss, so I’ve told Dumela to find them a place to sleep for the night.”

“Fine,” said Kramer.

Zondi locked pace with him as they made their way back up to his office above the courtyard. “What’s next, boss?” he asked.

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