Read The Lately Deceased for Free Online Page B

a few minutes before eleven o’clock. His face was drawn and worried – so different from a few hours before, when he had been the mainspring of the party at Gordon’s flat.
    Coming to life for a moment, he pressed a key on his intercom and spoke to the secretary in the outer room.
    â€˜Will you ring Mr Walker’s office again, please?’
    There was a short silence, then the girl’s voice came into the room: ‘Sorry, Mr Tate, his secretary says he’s not been in yet, nor left any message.’
    â€˜Right, thank you.’
    He lifted the key and made a pretence of attending to some of the papers in front of him. Within a few minutes, however, he had thrown down the sheaf and sat picking his thumbnail, with a gloomy expression on his face. Again he spoke to his secretary, asking her to try to reach Gordon at his flat.
    â€˜Yes, sir. I’ll ring now … just a moment, there’s an incoming call for you. Will you take it first, please?’
    He picked up the white telephone, when a strange and very polite voice spoke at the other end.
    â€˜Good morning, sir, this is Detective Sergeant Masters speaking. I’m sorry to trouble you, but I believe that you may be able to give the police some assistance over the death of a Mrs Margaret Walker. The matter is rather urgent, sir, and my superior officer would be glad of a few words with you right away.’
    Geoffrey’s stomach seemed to give a spasmodic twitch as the significance of the words reached his mind.
    â€˜Police! Are you a coroner’s officer or something?’
    He seemed at a loss for the right words for a moment.
    The police voice gently disillusioned him over the wires.
    â€˜No, sir, I think it would be better if we explained when you came over to Comber Street Police Station, sir. We’re sending a car over now to pick up a Miss Arden and a Mr Franklin, so perhaps you would be good enough to come along with them.’
    His tone made the request as much an order as if he had issued a summons.
    â€˜I suppose you wouldn’t like to tell me what this is all about?’ asked Tate.
    â€˜I’d rather not, sir, if you don’t mind. The car will be at the main entrance in about ten minutes. Goodbye for now, sir.’
    Geoff hung up and immediately buzzed for his secretary.
    â€˜Get me Franklin in Technical and Eve Arden … God knows where she is.’
    A few minutes’ hurried ringing around the studios produced no result. Geoff paced his office like a worried tiger until a message came up from the foyer commissionaire that a police officer had called to collect him. He hurried down in the lift and met Abe Franklin in the hall. There was no sign of Eve Arden.
    The police officer, a mobile man in a soft cap and leather leggings, put his fingers to his cap brim and inquired after the lady whom he was supposed to collect as well.
    â€˜I’m afraid she doesn’t appear to be in the building,’ said the hall porter. ‘We’ve been ringing for her ever since we had the message.’
    â€˜I’ll just have to take you two gentlemen, then,’ said the police driver and led the way to a black Wolseley parked outside. He installed them in the back and weaved off through the heavy mid-morning traffic.
    Abe turned to Geoffrey as soon as they were on their way.
    â€˜Any ideas what the hell this is all about?’ he asked.
    â€˜Obviously to do with poor Margaret, but why all this Sherlock Holmes stuff?’
    Neither having much to contribute to solving the mystery, they remained silent for most of the fifteen-minute journey to the red-brick pile of the police station. Here they were shown into a bare waiting room lit by a gas fire and decorated by posters showing how to recognise the Colorado beetle.
    Almost immediately a large ginger-headed young man in plain clothes appeared and introduced himself as the owner of the voice on the telephone.
    â€˜Detective