The Case of the Heavenly Twin by Christopher Bush

Author:Christopher Bush
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dean Street Press
Published: 2022-03-12T16:00:00+00:00

We stepped into a tiny hall with a rack for hats and coats. Some of Staffer’s things were hanging there. To the left was the small kitchen, to the right the bedroom and bathroom-lavatory and straight on was the small dining-room. Jewle went left.

There was nothing noteworthy about the neat, modern kitchen with its electric cooker, refrigerator and white cupboards and drawers. Jewle pried generally round. He felt the coloured tea-towel hanging on the heater rail but it was quite dry. If any washing up of glasses had been done, then there was nothing to show it.

We went back and crossed the tiny hall to the bedroom. Again there was nothing noteworthy. The bed had been made up but not slept in. The wardrobe was pretty well stocked but Jewle’s look was only perfunctory. He had a better look at the chest of drawers and then a final glance round before going through to the bathroom. The bath itself was spotless. The hand-towel on the rail of the basin still had some dampness.

All I could gather was that Staffer had had a wash, but not a bath, some time the previous evening. It was no proof that he’d been expecting a caller.

“Just a preliminary look round,” Jewle told me. “Nothing obvious so far but the other room might tell us something.”

It did. Staffer seemed never to have used it as a dining-room, though it was ready if wanted. The smallish table and three chairs had been pushed against the wall and a cheap mahogany writing desk brought in, obviously Staffer’s own. The fourth chair was to one side of it. Two of the desk drawers were not properly closed and from a lower one some papers were just protruding.

“Looks as if someone’s been through all this,” Jewle told me. “We’ll leave it for a look-see later.”

We went back to the lounge. Matthews had nothing to report. He’d taken the prints of the only two chamber-maids who’d been recently there. Only their prints and those of Staffer had been found.

“The cigarette’s got Staffer’s prints on it,” Matthews said. “So has his lighter.”

“Wasn’t Staffer suspected of peddling dope?” I said.

“He was,” Jewle told me. “We thought we had him nicely sewn up but he slipped through on a technicality.”

“I’d like you to see that marijuana dust in the safe,” Matthews said. “There’s something fishy about it.”

We had a look. The tiny fragments of tobacco were loosely scattered.

“Might have been some packages here,” Jewle said. “These little bits just slipped out at the ends.”

“Then there ought to be the marks of the packages and there aren’t. You’ll see what I mean if I flash a torch.”

He was right. There wasn’t a discernible mark on the bottom of the safe. You could see very clearly. The safe was only ten inches by eight, and eight deep.

Jewle was looking a bit puzzled.

“I’m probably a bit thick-headed this morning but just what are you trying to prove?”

“Just an idea,” Matthews told him. “The safe was empty because the killer used Staffer’s keys to empty it.

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