Yesterday's Papers by Martin Edwards

Author:Martin Edwards [Edwards, Martin]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: detective, noire, petrocelli, clue, Suspense, marple, Fiction, whodunnit, death, police, morse, taggart, christie, legal, crime, shoestring, poirot, law, murder, killer, holmes, ironside, columbo, solicitor, hoskins, Thriller, hitchcock, cluedo, cracker, diagnosis, Hard-Boiled, Mystery & Detective
ISBN: 9780750508674
Publisher: Bantam
Published: 1995-08-15T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

She had only herself to blame:

The voice was unmistakeable: the wobbling breasts right under his nose belonged to Edwin Smith’s one-time girlfriend. He was conscious that all eyes in the restaurant were upon him. Leaning back in his chair, he returned her smile.

‘Thanks for letting me see you, Mrs Grierson.’

A pair of nipple tassels rotated mesmerically. ‘Renata, please. I’m not one for formal introductions.’

‘I’ve guessed as much.’

The lines on her face hardened. ‘So you’re poking around in a case best left dead and buried?’

‘Like Edwin? I’d like to know the truth about the murder of Carole Jeffries. I think he may have suffered an injustice.’

‘Maybe you’re right. Though at one time I reckoned he deserved what he got.’

‘When can we talk?’

‘The waiters are lovely lads, but speed of service isn’t their strong point. By the time you’ve had your meal, I’ll be through.’

She smiled again before tilting her body away from him and started to glide to the next alcove. As he watched her go, Harry reflected that, had things worked out differently, Edwin Smith might now be a henpecked fifty-year-old married to a belly dancer instead of pushing up daisies in a prisoner’s grave. Some people might not be sure which was worse.

At the end of the evening, Renata timed her return to perfection. While he stood at the till signing the credit card slip, she appeared beside him. Gone were the anklets and the finger cymbals. Even her perfume seemed less oppressive. In her tartan jacket and black leggings she looked like any other middle-aged woman who likes to dress young.

‘Thanks for being willing to talk,’ he said as he followed her down the stairs.

‘That’s all right. I’ve kept quiet long enough.’

‘But you contacted Ernest Miller.’

Her tone became grim. ‘I didn’t much like the sound of him on the phone. He had a slimy voice. But I found myself starting to answer his questions. He said he had this idea Edwin was innocent. His late wife had worked for Edwin’s brief and she’d told him that Edwin withdrew his confession before the trial - but the solicitor didn’t believe him and bloody Edwin didn’t have the bottle to slug it out in a courtroom.’

‘So you said he was right, but didn’t explain why?’

‘I wanted to do it face to face. You see, Mr Devlin, the whole thing’s been bothering me since 1964. I’d like to get it off my chest.’ She forced a smile. ‘Anyway, where are you taking me?’

He spread his arms. ‘What did you have in mind?’

‘Don’t tempt me, young man. How about a drink in the Demi-Monde? Don’t worry, I won’t show you up. Now I’ve changed out of my dancing clothes, anyone would think I was respectable.’

A couple of minutes later they were sitting at the nightclub’s bar and Harry had learned that Renata’s tipple was a daiquiri and coke.

‘Thanks, love. I need this. All that shimmying is thirsty work.’

He had to raise his voice to be heard above the thudding nineties musak. ‘How long have you been doing it?’

She moved a little closer to him.

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