Paul Temple and the Harkdale Robbery by Francis Durbridge

Author:Francis Durbridge
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780008125714
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2015-07-24T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

The Gateway Motel had been open for about six months. The owner was a sprightly little Scotsman called Angus Lomax. He had made his money by following the principle that what happens in America happens five years later in England, but the principle hadn’t operated for motels. He came into the restaurant and looked at the sparse crowd with some apprehension.

Paul saw him ask the young manageress whom the Rolls outside belonged to. She nodded towards their table in the corner and added something which Paul couldn’t read from her lip movements. Mr Lomax came hurrying across to them.

The menu had a tendency towards the barbecue, with hot dogs and hamburgers featuring prominently, words like french fries and apple pie, but the waitress had looked relieved when Paul had ordered a rare steak with mashed potatoes. It was all a façade. When Steve had put on the juke box everybody had looked up in astonishment, including Paul.

‘I only do it to keep you young,’ she explained to Paul. But she knew the records had been out of the hit parade since the motel opened.

There was one advantage to the place. If it were a meeting place for bank robbers Angus Lomax wouldn’t be able to claim that he hadn’t noticed them.

‘Good evening, Mr Temple. My daughter tells me you’d like a word.’

Paul shook hands with him and invited him to sit down. He could hardly say he was busy. ‘This is Steve, my wife.’ The man sat down.

‘You have a very pleasant motel, Mr Lomax,’ said Steve. ‘And a good chef. I’m surprised you aren’t crowded tonight.’

Those were the words to start Lomax talking. He relaxed into a long description of his troubles.

‘Why don’t you call this a hotel with ample parking accommodation?’ Paul asked. ‘Then at least people would come for the food.’

He shrugged. ‘We wouldn’t attract the American visitors.’

‘I don’t see any American visitors.’

‘It’s a slack period,’ Lomax confessed unhappily. ‘But you didn’t ask me across to hear about my problems. How can I help you, Mr Temple?’

‘I’m trying to trace the movements of a friend of mine,’ said Paul. ‘I think she stayed here the night before last.’

‘What’s the name of your friend?’

Paul described Betty Stanway and explained that he thought the girl was probably in trouble. He could see from the way Angus Lomax was reacting that he was sympathetic, but he was no help.

‘I’m absolutely sure she didn’t stay here on Friday night.’ He smiled wryly. ‘I’m positive, because there wasn’t a single member of the fair sex staying in the house on Friday. There were only three men.’

Paul believed him. ‘Thank you, Mr Lomax,’ he said quietly.

The man shook hands and went away with apologies for not being more help, hoping to see him at the Gateway again. Paul nodded and picked up another book of matches to remind himself.

‘You’re disappointed,’ Steve murmured.

He nodded. ‘I thought we had a lead.’

‘So what happens now?’

Paul put the matches in his pocket. ‘Let’s go home.’ He signalled to the waitress and paid the bill.

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