Blueprint for Murder by Roger Bax

Author:Roger Bax
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 978-1-84858-363-4
Publisher: Arcturus Publishing Limited
Published: 2011-06-15T04:00:00+00:00

In the Superintendent’s office an hour or so later, Inspector James was studying with intense interest a report which had come in from headquarters during the night. Apparently there had been a car hold-up on the Southend road on the previous evening. Two men had stopped a Morris 12 and asked for a lift. They had then made the driver get out at the point of a gun and had driven the car away. A passing lorry had taken the owner to a telephone-box and the flying-squad had got busy. The hold-up men had been seen near Walthamstow, and chased at high speed to the Blackwall Tunnel. There, the Morris had crashed on a corner and one of the men had broken his back. The other, practically unhurt, had talked.

“It seems they had quite a flourishing business,” said the Superintendent. “Smart work, catching them.”

“I think you might have told me before about Cross having his car pinched,” the Inspector said reproachfully. “If this chap hadn’t spilt the beans I’d never have known.”

“Sorry, sir – I’d almost forgotten it myself. It didn’t seem to have anything to do with the case.”

“I don’t suppose it has,” said the Inspector. “All the same, I think I’ll pop over this morning and have a word with the fellow they’ve caught. You never know. We seem to have exhausted all other lines. The report on the bloodstained coat doesn’t get us anywhere at all. I knew it wouldn’t. The ashes are just paper and rag. By the way, I went over and had a look at the bombed house before I came here. It’s an important part of Cross’s story.”

“It stands up all right, doesn’t it, sir?”

“The house doesn’t; the story does. The place is just as he described it. The door’s off one of its hinges. There’s broken glass everywhere. The house isn’t too bad inside – not the ground floor, anyway – but the roof’s badly damaged. There’s a lot of rubbish about – bits of smashed furniture and oddments. There are one or two footprints beside the concrete path, but they’re not very clear. I think one of them is a woman’s. They’re no help to us, though. If Cross walked up the concrete he wouldn’t have left any trace.”

“Too bad,” said the Super sympathetically.

“Yes,” said the Inspector, “our luck seems to be out on this case. Look, while I’m over at Barking will you ring Cross for me and ask him if he could make it convenient to be at his flat after dinner tonight? I think I’d like one more talk with him.”

Jackson made a note, and the Inspector departed rather despondently. It didn’t look as though there were going to be any bouquets for him as a result of this job.

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