Murder in Disguise by Frances Lloyd

Author:Frances Lloyd [Lloyd, Frances]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781789312997
Publisher: JOFFE BOOKS murder mysteries and crime
Published: 2020-01-08T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

THURSDAY, 29 APRIL, evening

‘I reckon I knows what happened in Room 4 of the Wing on The Park,’ announced Gavin Jones. His words were a little slurred but his Welsh accent with its gratuitous S was considerably more pronounced. He drained his glass and pushed it towards Nick Taylor. ‘That’ll be your round, isn’t it?’

Jones was sitting at a table in the lounge bar of the Melbury Arms, drowning his sorrows with Caz and Nick. The conversation was inevitably centred on the murder and Caz and Nick were doing their best to help with what information they could remember.

‘Well, I wish you’d tell us,’ said Caz. ‘Nick and I have been racking our brains, trying to make some sense of it. The whole thing’s such a mess.’

‘I still can’t believe I booked in all those people with bogus names and addresses. One of ’em didn’t even exist! Then I accepted dodgy banknotes from a couple who ran up a massive bill then scarpered without paying,’ said Nick, returning with a tray of drinks. ‘What kind of a receptionist does that make me? I’ll be lucky if I still have a job when old Blewitt works out how much he’s lost.’

Caz grinned. ‘You’ll just have to charm Mrs Blewitt. You know she fancies you. Chat her up with something romantic.’

‘“Let me shipwreck in your thighs,”’ quoted Gavin, moodily.

Nick snorted in disgust. ‘Do me a favour, Gav. No more Shakespeare shite. It was bloody Shakespeare that started all this trouble in the first place.’

‘Actually,’ said Gavin, lurching sideways to put a soothing, manly arm around Nick’s shoulders, ‘it isn’t Shakespeare shite; it’s Dylan Thomas shite, but I takes your point.’

Caz took a long swig of lager, which she’d taken to drinking since hanging out with Gavin and Nick. It made a pleasant change from the cheap, watered down champagne she’d had to drink with the customers at the casino.

‘Go on, Gavin. What’s your version of events? I bet it isn’t the same as dear old Harry Hamlet’s.’

‘You’re right, it isn’t. DCI Montague’s view until very recently has been that Annie Caxton is completely innocent. Any similarity between her and the Baldwin woman is entirely circumstantial and coincidental.’ Jones tipsy tongue stumbled over the long words. ‘But after we interviewed her and she did a runner, he wasn’t so sure. He’s told the Chief Super we’re about to make an arrest, but truth to tell, he hasn’t a clue about the murderer or the motive and he’s starting to sweat.’ He took a long pull on his pint, and wiped his top lip on his sleeve. ‘Here’s how I sees it. We know the corpse is definitely one Douglas Caxton of 583 Wormwood Avenue. He’s forty-three, paunchy, a vegetarian and worked as a shelf stacker at the supermarket. According to everyone who knew him, he was a boring old fart who’s most exciting activity was walking the dog.’

‘I can think of a lot of blokes who fit that description,’ said Caz, ‘but unfortunately, it’s not yet an acceptable defence for a wife who commits murder.

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