Angel and the Actress by Roger Silverwood Read Free Book Online Page B

They now need to restock with victuals. They cannot manage any longer without going to the market and they also need some money to be able to pay for what is needed. The question is, how much longer are they to be here, and who is going to pay them? In addition, the house being full of guests, I am now also urgently in need of the services of a housekeeper and a chambermaid. I cannot on my own maintainthe standard of cleanliness and service that Miss Minter would have expected from me.’
    ‘Well, Mr Trott, it really has nothing to do with me. If the guests were not eating and sleeping here, they would be eating and sleeping some where. It just happens that they were away from home when this murder occurred. I think this matter should be worked out between Miss Bell, you, the Joneses and the guests. Perhaps each guest would like to pay an appropriate sum for their keep, or maybe Miss Bell has access to some petty cash of Miss Minter’s. I really have no other suggestions to make.’
    The corners of Trott’s mouth turned downward. ‘Thank you, sir,’ he said without conviction. ‘Could you say how much longer it will be necessary for the guests to remain here?’
    Angel wrinkled his forehead, then sighed and rubbed his chin. ‘I believe that I have now seen everybody. I am only waiting for the gunshot residue results from Wetherby lab, which could be here sometime tomorrow.’
    ‘Very well, sir,’ he said. ‘That does mean we will have to manage another two meals and another night at least. I shall immediately convene a meeting between the parties you suggest and see what can best be done. Thank you, sir.’
    He turned towards the door.
    Angel said, ‘Mr Trott?’
    He turned back.
    Angel said, ‘I seem to have overlooked a question I should have asked you earlier.’
    ‘What’s that, sir?’
    ‘When Miss Minter was on the piano addressing the guests, just before she was shot, was the front door locked?’
    ‘I have to confess, sir, that I don’t actually know. It should have been, but as I did not check it myself I don’t expect that it was.’
    ‘I’ll take it that it was not locked, then.’
    Trott nodded, looking forlorn.
    Angel said, ‘In the drawing room, you were standing quite close to the piano, weren’t you?’
    ‘I was, sir.’
    ‘So you had a similar view of the guests to that that Miss Minter had?’
    He pursed his lips. ‘Well, yes, sir.’
    ‘Was there a stranger, a person who should not have been there or anybody you didn’t know among the guests listening to her?’
    ‘I didn’t see anybody, sir, but you will understand my eyes were more on Miss Minter than the guests. I was concerned that she did not fall. The piano was highly polished and she was standing on the top in very slippery silk stockings.’
    Angel sighed. ‘Right, thank you, Mr Trott.’
    The butler went out and closed the door.
    Angel pulled a face. None of Trott’s answers had actually been helpful. He looked at his watch. It was 5.15 p.m. He had had enough. It was time he was going home.
     
    Angel arrived home at 5.35 p.m. He locked the BMW in the garage, walked quickly along the path to the back door and let himself in. The door opened straight into the kitchen. It was warm and a pleasant smell of cookingpervaded the kitchen. The lids of two pans on the gas oven were rattling, giving out a lot of steam. He peered down at the rings, turned them down a little, then noticed a light showing through the glass door of the oven. He could see a casserole dish inside. He smiled, then pursed his lips and began to blow a tune through his teeth. It was vaguely like ‘I Feel Pretty’ from West Side Story . He reached into the fridge for a can of German beer, found a tumbler in the cupboard and poured some out. He took a sip, nodded approvingly, then ambled into the hall. He looked in the sitting room. There was nobody in there. He went to the bottom of the steps and called out.
    ‘Mary. Mary.’
    ‘Coming, love,’ she