All My Enemies by Barry Maitland Read Free Book Online Page B

said . . . he said that he was a great admirer of the play, and that he’d been wanting to get to see this production.”
    “Was Angela happy about it, when you told her who she was going with?”
    “I never had the chance to tell her. She’d been working down here on the fifth floor all afternoon. I never saw her again!” The tears poured once more down Rhona’s plump cheeks.
    “I’m sorry.” Kathy paused to let her recover. “Now, did Angela ever mention to you that she was being pestered by anyone? Followed home, perhaps, or getting phone calls?”
    “No!” Rhona looked horrified. “Who told you that?”
    Kathy shook her head. “No, I’m only considering the possibility. It’s something we have to consider.”
    Rhona shook her head miserably.
    “All right. Here’s your tea, Rhona. I’ll leave it at that for now. I’ll give you my phone number in case you think of anything later.”
    Kathy followed the secretary out to her boss’s office, where Clive Ferry rose cautiously to his feet to shake Kathy’s hand. Hewas dressed stiffly in pinstripe suit, starched white shirt, and club tie, all as immaculate as the small, perfectly sculpted moustache on his lip, and this careful personal grooming seemed designed to imply total propriety. He hadn’t seen the newspaper reports either, and he slipped quickly into expressions of regret, almost thankfully, Kathy thought, as if he’d been expecting something more immediately threatening from her visit.
    “We’ll co-operate in any way we can, Sergeant. A dreadful thing. I’ll check later about Angela’s entitlements from our staff insurance fund, and inform her parents, of course.”
    “At this stage we’re trying to build up a picture of Angela’s movements and the people she knew.”
    “Of course. You’ve been speaking to Rhona Clement, I believe.”
    “Yes. We thought that she went to the theatre with Angela on Saturday night, but it seems she sold her ticket to someone else. I’d like to speak to that person now if I can.”
    “Ah yes. And who was that?”
    “A Mr. Gentle.”
    Ferry looked startled for a second, the moustache giving a little leap, as if it might be about to run for cover, and then his face went completely blank. “Really?”
    “You’re surprised?”
    “Ah . . . a little. I wasn’t aware that Mr. Gentle was interested in the theatre.”
    “But apart from that, was there anything else surprising to you about the arrangement?”
    “I really don’t know the circumstances. You’d better ask him.”
    Ferry hurriedly picked up his phone. He murmured into it, then looked at Kathy. “He’s not in yet. His secretary is expecting him.”
    Kathy looked at her watch: 10:15.
    “Well, perhaps in the meantime I could speak to some of the other people Angela worked with.”
    “Yes, of course. In the boardroom?”
    “What about the seventh floor? I’d like to see her desk, make sure she didn’t have a diary or anything like that. Is there a room where I could speak to people there?”
    Kathy took the lift, and as she stepped out into an open-plan office area she was immediately aware that the news had preceded her, as a dozen pairs of eyes, bright with troubled curiosity, focused on her. She was shown to Angela’s desk, where she found nothing of interest, and then to a small room separated from the main office by a smoked-glass partition. As she moved through the office, whispered conversations died in front of her and started up again behind. Alone in the small room, she spoke to each of the women who worked in the immediate vicinity of Angela’s desk, getting little hard information from them, but gaining a distinct impression of wariness when she brought up Mr. Gentle’s name. It might have been nervousness about discussing their immediate boss, she thought, but the reaction of one girl in particular bothered her. She wore more make-up than the others, and had a mischievous, knowing look about her. When Kathy mentioned that