Rough Diamonds by Graham Ison

Author:Graham Ison [Ison, Graham]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Endeavour Media
Published: 2017-10-11T04:00:00+00:00

Fourteen

Reluctantly, Fox decided that he would have to go to Brighton. Dickie Lord’s information that a forty-five-year-old widow was claiming for the loss of fifty thousand pounds’ worth of jewelery interested him. Admittedly, people were losing jewelery almost every day of the week, but this was a substantial amount and the woman was a widow. And it might just be that she had fallen victim to a trickster in the same way as Mrs Ward, Mrs Bourne and Mrs Harker.

Fox and Gilroy were driven to Brighton by the ever-complaining Swann who was only really happy when seated in the drivers’ room at Scotland Yard with a hand of cards. Preferably a good hand.

It was a neat, detached house in the Preston Park area. The woman who answered the door was wearing a white trouser suit and had several gold chains around her neck. She was a blonde, though obviously not a natural one, and had a ready smile.

“Mrs Elaine Carter?”

“Yes.”

“Mrs Carter, I am Detective Chief Superintendent Thomas Fox… of the Flying Squad.” The woman looked slightly puzzled. “At New Scotland Yard.” Fox produced his warrant card.

“Oh! Perhaps you’d better come in. I’m in the conservatory at the moment. Is that all right?”

“Perfectly, madam,” said Fox, wondering why it should not be.

“Well, er, are you sure it’s me you want to see?” Elaine Carter’s face still bore the puzzled frown that had greeted Fox’s introduction of himself.

“If you are the lady who’s lost a substantial quantity of jewelery, Mrs Carter, yes.”

“Ah, now I see. But I thought the local police were dealing with that, here in Brighton.”

“I’m sure they are, Mrs Carter, but we in London are looking into several similar thefts. Thefts which appear to be connected with at least two murders.”

Mrs Carter put her hand to her neck. “Oh, good heavens. You surely don’t think—”

“There is no need to alarm yourself,” said Fox. “The victims were not those who had lost their jewelery. It’s more of an internecine war among those who did the stealing.”

“Like gang warfare, you mean?” Mrs Carter looked quite excited at the prospect of being involved in the sort of drama she had only ever seen on television. “Well, well.”

“I wonder if you could perhaps tell Detective Inspector Gilroy and me about this burglary…”

“Oh, it wasn’t a burglary,” said Elaine Carter.

“Not a burglary?”

“Oh no.” Mrs Carter lowered her eyes and then looked up with a guilty expression. “I’m afraid I was the victim of a confidence trickster. I think that’s what you call them, isn’t it?”

“It might be,” said Fox. “Would you care to explain?”

“I’d better begin at the beginning then.”

“That would be helpful,” murmured Fox.

“I was widowed about two years ago. A car accident on the M1. My late husband was a director of an insurance company and he left me very well provided for.”

“I see.” Fox had already deduced, from the quality of the furnishings in a house that would have fetched at least two hundred and fifty thousand pounds, that Mrs Carter was not exactly on the breadline.

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