The Best Man to Die by Ruth Rendell

Author:Ruth Rendell [Rendell, Ruth]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: General, Mystery & Detective, Fiction
ISBN: 9780345345301
Google: rjhXAAAAYAAJ
Amazon: 0345345304
Publisher: Fawcett
Published: 1987-05-11T22:00:00+00:00

10

"They call themselves McCloy Ltd.," Burden said wearily, "but the last member of the firm of that name died twenty years ago. It's an old established set-up, but I reckon it's on its last legs now. In this so-called affluent society of ours folks buy new stuff, they don't want this reconditioned rubbish."

"You can say that again," said Wexford, thinking of Cullam.

"The Yard put me on to six other McCloys all more or less in the hardware business or on its fringes. Not a smell of anything fishy about one of them. Stamford have given me a list of local McCloys and there again not a sniff as far as they know. But I'll be off to Stamford in the morning to have a scent round. The local force have promised me all the help I need."

Wexford lounged back in his swivel chair and the dying sun played on his face. "Mike," he said, "I wonder if we haven't been starting from the wrong end. We've been looking for McCloy to lead us to his hired assassin. We might do better to find the hired assassin and let him lead us to McCloy."

"Cullam?"

"Maybe. I want Martin to be Cullam's shadow and if he goes and pays cash for that refrigerator we're really getting somewhere. Meanwhile I'm going to make Hatton's log book and Mrs. Hatton's engagement book my homework for tonight. But first, how about a quick one at the Olive and Dove?"

"Not for me thanks, sir. I haven't had an evening in for a week now. Divorce is against my wife's principles but she might get ideas as to a legal separation."

Wexford laughed and they went down in the lift together. The evening was warm and clear, the light and the long soft shadows more flattering to this market town High Street than the noonday sun. The old houses were at their best in it, their shabbiness, the cracks in their fabric veiled, as an ageing face is veiled and smoothed by candlelight. By day the alleys that ran into a scruffy hinterland were rat-hole rubbish traps but now they seemed romantic lanes where lovers might meet under the bracket lamps and as the sun departed, watch the moon ride over a Grimms' fairy tale huddle of pinnacled rooftops.

As yet it was only eight o'clock and the sun reluctant to leave without treating its worshippers to a pyrotechnic display of rose and gold flames that burnt up the whole western sky. Wexford stood on the south side of the bridge and listened to the river chuckling. Such an innocent river, for all that it knew a secret, for all that one of its stones had put a man out of sight of the sunset!

All the Street windows of the Olive and Dove were open, the curtains fanning out gently over window boxes and over fuchsias that dripped red flowers. On the forecourt a band of Morris dancers had assembled. They wore the motley coat of jesters and one of them was hopping around on a hobby horse.

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