Murder in Transit (Railway Detective) by Edward Marston

Author:Edward Marston [Marston, Edward]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Allison & Busby
Published: 2024-01-24T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

When they returned to their house in Portsmouth, they were still congratulating themselves on their success. They had contacted three of their chosen victims in a row and arranged for a payment from each. There had been no resistance from the three women and no sense of danger in the transaction. That was the element that had most appeal for the woman.

‘We took too many chances before,’ she recalled. ‘We flirted with danger.’

‘I found that rather exciting,’ he admitted.

‘You weren’t the one who had a complete stranger groping you.’

‘Yes, I know. But I was always there to rescue you.’

‘Thank goodness!’

‘That life is behind us now, my love. We have a steady income at last. If it goes on like this, we can think about buying a larger house.’

‘Who is next in line?’

‘Let’s reel in the money from the first three wives first,’ he said. ‘Mrs Lenham paid up at once and you’ve arranged to collect the first instalments from Mrs Falconbridge and Mrs Venn. Each of them is married to a rich husband and they probably have money of their own. I daresay that Blanchard rewarded them in some way as well,’ he decided. ‘He may have bought each of them a treasured piece of jewellery, for instance.’

‘What’s the point of that? They wouldn’t have been able to wear it.’

‘Yes, they would – when they were in bed with him.’

She laughed. ‘I never thought of that.’

‘Can you imagine Mrs Venn, wearing nothing but a pearl necklace?’

‘No, not really. They’ll regret that they ever met Blanchard now. I wouldn’t be tempted to spend a night in his arms even if I was dripping with diamonds. I always keep my promises. I can’t think of any circumstances in which I’d be unfaithful to my husband.’

‘You’re forgetting something.’

‘Am I?’

‘We’re not married.’

She gave him a challenging smile. ‘Not yet, anyway.’

Paul Blanchard was in a quandary. He resented Colbeck because the inspector knew the hideous truth about Giles Blanchard. At the same time, however, the son needed the inspector to solve the murder of his father. The one saving grace was that Colbeck was a discreet man, unlikely to spread details of the elder Blanchard’s private life. He was in his father’s study when he heard the front door of the house being opened. When Colbeck’s voice filtered through to him, he got up and went into the hall. He was in time to see three visitors being invited into the house. Colbeck doffed his top hat then performed the introductions. Blanchard was not impressed by the sight of Leeming.

He led the visitors into the drawing room where they all sat down. Blanchard was hopeful.

‘Has something happened?’ he asked.

‘Yes,’ replied Colbeck. ‘I despatched Sergeant Leeming and Constable Hinton to visit jewellery shops in different directions.’

‘I had no success,’ admitted Leeming.

‘I had more luck,’ said Hinton.

He went on to give an account of his visit to Wilfred Weekes’s shop in Chichester and of his trip to Oving in search of its vicar. Blanchard was duly

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