Murder Most Vile by Eric Brown

Author:Eric Brown [Brown, Eric]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781448308347
Publisher: Severn House
Published: 2021-12-13T00:00:00+00:00

FIFTEEN

Langham climbed the steps to Victoria Lombard’s flat and found the door wedged open with a cast-iron doorstop in the shape of a duck.

‘Hello?’ he called. ‘Victoria?’

‘Mr Langham, is that you?’ Her voice sounded tremulous. ‘Do come in.’

He entered the flat and found her seated in an armchair in the open-plan living room. She was wearing a red dress; her dark hair was dishevelled and her face pale. Dark patches, like bruises, underlined her eyes.

Before her on the coffee table was a glass tumbler and a bottle of Gordon’s gin.

Langham sat down on the sofa opposite her.

Victoria lifted a limp hand to indicate her face. ‘You must forgive me, Mr Langham. I haven’t had time to …’ She gestured towards the door. ‘And I left it open as it’s such a nice day, and sometimes birds come in here. Some people think that having birds in the house brings bad luck, don’t they? What do you think, Mr Langham?’

‘Call me Donald,’ he said, and shrugged. ‘I’m not superstitious.’

She reached out, took the tumbler in an unsteady hand and drank.

‘I’ve only just got back from the hospital. It was a rather nice place. The nurses were so kind. They gave me some wonderful medication.’ She indicated a small brown vial of pills on the table beside the gin.

‘Do you think it wise,’ he said, ‘drinking on top of the medication?’

She blinked at him and he wondered if this was her first glass. ‘They said that a little drink wouldn’t harm me, Mr Langham. Just one little drink.’

‘Well, just as long as it is only one, and a little one,’ he went on, feeling like a nursemaid. ‘You wanted to see me?’

‘I just wanted to ask how the investigation was proceeding, Mr Langham. I mean Donald.’ She hesitated. ‘I was thinking, while I was in hospital … Could what happened … could it have had anything to do with Nigel’s gambling debts?’

‘We considered, and pretty much discounted, that possibility,’ he said.

She leaned forward and said, almost despairingly, ‘I just want to know who killed my brother.’

‘I’m attempting to build up a comprehensive picture of the kind of man your brother was. I’m trying to trace his friends and acquaintances. I’ve already spoken to people up in Herefordshire—’

‘Nigel was a kind and gentle man,’ she interrupted. ‘Unlike Christopher. They were very, very different. Nigel wouldn’t harm anybody.’

‘Meaning that Christopher might?’

She shrugged. ‘Given the right conditions, I wouldn’t put anything past Christopher.’

‘I understand that Nigel was married briefly. Do you happen to be in contact with his former wife, or with any of his recent girlfriends?’

She peered down at the glass in her hand, considering the question. ‘I met his wife a few times. This was seven or eight years ago. A mousy little thing. Audrey, I think she was called. But they weren’t together for long and I’ve no idea where she might be now.’

‘Do you know if he was seeing anyone more recently?’

She shook her head. ‘He never told me about anyone, but then he was secretive when it came to that side of his life.

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