Only Time Will Tell: The Clifton Chronicles 1 by Jeffrey Archer

Author:Jeffrey Archer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Jeffrey Archer, General, Family Life, Historical, Fiction
Publisher: Pan Macmillan UK
Published: 2011-03-01T02:43:22+00:00

Mitchell was feeding Rosie when he arrived.

Hugo walked slowly across, leant on the railing and pretended to take an interest in the Indian elephant that Bristol Zoo had recently acquired from Uttar Pradesh, and was already attracting a large number of visitors. Mitchell tossed up a lump of bread, which Rosie caught in her trunk and transferred to her mouth in one fluid movement.

‘The subject has returned to work at the Royal Hotel,’ said Mitchell as if he was addressing the elephant. ‘She’s doing the late shift in the Palm Court from ten at night until six the following morning. She’s paid three pounds a week, plus whatever she can make in tips, which, as there are so few customers at that time of night, doesn’t add up to much.’ He threw another crust at the elephant, and continued, ‘A Bob Burrows has been arrested and charged with arson. Burrows was her patisserie supplier before the subject sacked him. He’s made a full confession, even admitting that he had planned to propose to the subject and had purchased an engagement ring, but she’d spurned him; or at least that’s his story.’

A smile crossed Hugo’s lips. ‘And who’s in charge of the case?’ he asked.

‘A Detective Inspector Blakemore,’ said Mitchell. Hugo’s smile was replaced by a frown. ‘Although Blakemore initially thought the subject might be an accomplice of Burrows,’ continued Mitchell, ‘he has since informed the Bristol and West of England Insurance Company that she is no longer a suspect.’

‘That’s a pity,’ said Hugo, the frown still in place.

‘Not necessarily,’ said Mitchell. ‘The insurance company will be issuing Mrs Clifton with a cheque for six hundred pounds in full and final settlement of her claim.’ Hugo smiled.

‘I wonder if she’s told her son,’ said Hugo, almost to himself.

If Mitchell heard the comment, he ignored it. ‘The only other piece of information that might be of some interest to you,’ he continued, ‘is that Mr Patrick Casey booked into the Royal Hotel on Friday night, and took the subject to the Plimsoll Line for dinner. They returned to the hotel afterwards, when she accompanied him to his room, No. 371, and didn’t leave until just after seven o’clock the following morning.’

A long silence followed, always the sign that Mitchell had come to the end of his monthly report. Hugo removed an envelope from an inside pocket and slipped it to Mitchell, who didn’t acknowledge the transaction as he threw his last piece of bread to a contented Rosie.

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