In The Midst Of Life (An Inspector Angel Mystery) by Roger Silverwood

Author:Roger Silverwood [Silverwood, Roger]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Endeavour Press
Published: 2015-02-05T08:00:00+00:00

9

There was a knock at the door.

Wexell was glad of the interruption. ‘Come in.’

It was the secretary carrying a tray of tea. She put it on the desk.

‘Thank you very much, Ingrid. Leave us, I’ll pour.’

She smiled and left them quietly.

Wexell waited for the door to close and then he began. ‘Well, Inspector, as you suggest, I have a client who had a videotape of his work and life and business interests stolen in a robbery at his place of work.’

Angel nodded and smiled encouragingly.

‘A few days after a robbery, he got a letter from the robber.’

‘Where is it?’

‘Burned, I’m afraid.’

Angel pulled a face and shook his head.

Wexell continued. ‘It said that the writer had a videotape that I — my client — might be interested in and that he wanted a thousand pounds for it. If he wanted its return, he was told to get the money in small used notes, wrap it in a brown paper parcel, put a notice in the Bromersley Chronicle under the Personal Column to read, “To Hubert, Peter will play,” and then to await instructions. My client did all that, and on Wednesday afternoon at about five o’clock, my client got instructions by phone to take the parcel out to the Manchester road and put it under the Bromersley boundary signpost. And that was done.’

‘Yes,’ Angel said, smiling. ‘I saw you up there driving like a bat out of hell at 5.30 on Tuesday. Did you see anybody or anything?’

‘No. My client said he saw nothing,’ Wexell said carefully.

‘What was the voice like?’

‘Ordinary, but he had a cockney accent.’

Angel nodded. It fitted the information he already had. ‘And how did your client get his tape back?’

‘It was in his letterbox the following morning. He was delighted. However it was the wrong tape. Externally, one tape looks just like another.’

‘So your client was a thousand quid out and in possession of the wrong tape?’

‘Precisely.’ Wexell picked up the silver teapot and pointed it at a cup.

‘I see. Then what happened?’

‘He put a notice in the paper again. Saying, “To Hubert. Wrong parcel but Peter is still willing to play.” Wexell pointed to the teacup. ‘Help yourself to sugar and milk, Inspector.’

‘Ta.’ Angel dug the apostle spoon into the sugar bowl.

‘It worked. The robber phoned and said that he had the tape but it was going to cost my client another thousand pounds. He agreed to pay. So the man said he was to make up the money in a brown paper parcel as before and await instructions.’

‘And when are you expecting him to phone?’

Wexell shrugged. ‘Anytime.’

Angel’s jaw dropped open. ‘Anytime? Anytime now?’

He nodded.

Angel hurriedly lowered the teacup and dived into his pocket for his mobile. He banged a number onto the panel of the phone. Then he turned to the solicitor and said, ‘Excuse me, sir. I had better do this now.’

Wexell’s jaw tightened. ‘I don’t want surrounding with blue uniforms and buttons, Inspector. It would frighten him off.’

‘Get me Superintendent Harker.’

‘He’s out, sir.’

‘Is DS Crisp back yet.

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