Read Dead Money (A Detective Inspector Paul Amos Lincolnshire Mystery) for Free Online Page B

pittance. He was a shrewd operator.
    "I took over as his solicitor from my father about halfway through his career."
    "If Mr Jones was so successful in his business deals he must have engendered a fair amount of envy," Amos commented.
    "Mr Jones made friends and foes. He was a very generous employer. He inspired great loyalty in his staff. That was one of the reasons why he was so successful. However, I concede that you can't be in business for that length of time without rubbing some people up the wrong way. Yes, there were those who were jealous. Some of the people he got the better of no doubt resented the fact."
    "Do you, or did you, also act for Mrs Jones?"
    "I acted for Mr and Mrs Jones when they bought their marital home. Otherwise no. I don't think she's ever had much need of a solicitor. Like father, like son, Raymond Jones believed in male and female territory. He wasn't quite as old-fashioned in that respect as his father. It was though, only at my firm suggestion that the house was bought in joint names purely because it made sense if Mr Jones died first."
    Amos was thoughtful.
    He said: "In the event, the couple split up. The house was presumably sold and the proceeds divided. Did you arrange all that?"
    Renshaw looked slightly peeved.
    "I did the paperwork for the sale of the house, yes, so technically I acted for Mrs Jones then as well. But all the arrangements were made by Mr Jones and the money from the sale went straight into his bank account. I was very unhappy about it but Mrs Jones concurred in the arrangement so I thought of it as acting purely for Mr Jones rather than for them as a couple."
    And did she concur willingly, Amos wondered.
    One final question: “Do you know where Mrs Jones is now?”
    “I haven’t the faintest idea.”
     

 
     
     
    Chapter 11
     
    Amos had decided from the outset that he would interview the caretaker himself and the routine statement taken along with those of all the residents in the block was so unhelpful that he doubled his resolve.
    Here was a man who saw all the comings and goings. Admittedly, the security guards did, too, but they worked shifts while Nick Foster was bustling around all the time. Besides, Foster had been on the scene a long time and was likely to know the tenants better. The guards could wait their turn, although Amos was certainly going to talk to those who had been on duty that fateful weekend.
    Foster was not, however, sweeping leaves when the detective inspector and Swift came looking for him. Amos found him skulking around in his cubby hole of a residence on the mezzanine floor. Foster was a while answering the solid knock on his shabby door - refurbishment was for wealthy tenants like Ray Jones, not impoverished old caretakers like Nick Foster.
    The door eventually opened three or four inches. Foster was unable to conceal his considerable nervousness.
    "Yes?" he uttered hoarsely.
    "Police," replied Amos clearly. He produced his warrant card. Foster open the door another couple of inches and stood waiting, his eyes fixed intently on his visitor’s face.
    "It would be a lot easier if I could come in," Amos suggested pleasantly.
    “There’s not much room," Foster said sheepishly. "I haven't got much space for myself."
    Nonetheless, Amos met with no resistance as he pushed open the reluctant door.
    Foster was not lying about the lack of space. Bric-a-brac of all descriptions cluttered the small room, some in boxes, some scattered around the floor. There were ornaments, glassware, a wig on a chair. Foster appeared to be a man of catholic tastes.
    "You've quite a collection," Amos observed.
    Foster looked shifty. "Just a bit of stuff people have given me over the years. No, not there," he added hastily as Amos made to sit down on a packing case. "The top’s a bit wonky. Don't want you falling in and breaking anything."
    "Or hurting myself," Amos remarked dryly. “You live here alone?”
     
    “Yes, I’ve been on my own since my wife died 30