The Body in Belair Park by Alice Castle

Author:Alice Castle [Castle, Alice]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: darkstroke books
Published: 2019-06-24T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Harry York was standing in the thick of what seemed to be a huge milling crowd of elderly folk. The autumn sunlight poured through the windows of the former ballroom, glancing off silvery heads, a Zimmer frame, and a walking stick. He was starting to feel uncomfortably hot in his navy jacket.

He’d thought all this would only take a moment. He’d reckoned without the complications of getting everyone up the stairs quickly, gathering them here, and now, the final step which seemed to be beyond him, getting their attention. This was ridiculous. He’d quelled full-blown riots in less time than this was taking.

He strode to the front of the room and cleared his throat. The din around him rose up a notch. He tried again. Nothing. He clapped his hands together, and one or two of the people in front misunderstood and joined in, giving him a spontaneous, if unearned, round of applause. When it died away, he finally had silence. He leapt in before anything else could go wrong.

‘Thank you all so much for arriving early today. I understand you’ll be playing bridge later…’ There was a bit of a murmur as a few of the audience looked yearningly towards the bidding boxes and cards already on the tables. Harry hurried on before he lost them again.

‘Well, as you know, we’ve had one or two very serious, erm, incidents within the Bridge Club recently. Now, I’m going to need your help to sort this lot out,’ he said, beaming down expectantly at his audience like a progressive headteacher begging the pupils not to vandalise the premises.

‘Do you mean the murders?’ said a dry voice at the back of the room.

The audience shuffled a little to either side, parting like a rather slow-mo Red Sea, eventually giving Harry a glimpse of his heckler. He was a man in his later years, wearing a very correct check jacket and tie, with white hair collected into two tufts over his ears, like a cartoon professor.

‘Well, erm, it’s one murder so far…’ Harry said, then kicked himself and came to an abrupt halt. Damn. He tried again. ‘That is to say, we’re not making any announcements yet on that, erm, extremely regrettable happening. I’d just like to appeal for your help on some issues that could help us with our enquiries pertaining to the matter,’ he said, painfully aware that he was using appalling management-speak jargon and, even worse, that a pleading note had entered his voice. This was definitely a tough crowd. He coughed a little and started afresh in a deeper tone which, he hoped, brooked no argument.

‘I’d like to ask you all to show any medications you have to my officer stationed by the door here,’ he said, indicating Narinda Khan, the PC he was trying to train up. She looked at him with an unquestionable spark of fear as the crowd began to advance inexorably towards her.

‘Now, if you could form an orderly queue, please. One at a

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