Charters and Caldicott by Stella Bingham Read Free Book Online

the eye, Mr Caldicott.’
    â€˜Yes, well look here. You and I are not in collusion over this business. Do I make myself clear?’
    â€˜Oh yes, Mr Caldicott.’
    Caldicott made as if to go, then stopped and asked in what he hoped was an off-hand manner, ‘That duplicate key, by the way. What did Inspector Snow make of it in the end?’
    â€˜Same as I made of it. She must have snitched it while my back was turned – in case I had second thoughts and wouldn’t let her in. Only explanation there can be – isn’t it?’
    â€˜Yes, I expect you’re right.’
    â€˜I suppose it’s got to go to the landlords, sir – about me letting her in?’
    â€˜It certainly ought to, Grimes. You’ve betrayed a trust.’
    â€˜I know I have, sir, and I’m ever so sorry. If there was anything I could do...’
    â€˜There’s one thing you can do, laddie, and that’s keep your trap shut.’
    â€˜I understand, Mr Caldicott.’
    â€˜You don’t understand anything, Grimes, and you don’t have to. Except this. Someone wanted to kill the real Miss Beevers. Thanks to a series of fortuitous misunderstandings they now think they have. Until the murderer is brought to book, that’s how we need it to remain. And that’s all you need to know. Now you’re on probation, Grimes. If any of this gets out, you’re for the high jump.’
    â€˜Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.’
    â€˜Very well.’ Caldicott strode off to the lift, reaching it just as the doors opened to let out a woman holding a collecting tin. ‘Ah, another victim,’ she beamed, pouncing on Caldicott.
    â€˜Good evening,’ said Caldicott coolly.
    â€˜Would you like to give something to the Children’s Fund?’
    â€˜Of course.’ While Caldicott fumbled for change, the lady gushed, ‘It’s not really our flag day until tomorrow, but I find people are much more generous if I beard them in their dens.’
    â€˜Flag Day!’ Caldicott gasped, giving a decent imitation of Paul on the road to Damascus.
    â€˜I hope you don’t mind. It’s in a very good cause.’
    â€˜Indeed it is, dear lady, indeed it is.’ To the woman’s utter astonishment, Caldicott whipped out his wallet and stuffed a fiver into her tin. Brushing aside her thanks, he stepped into the lift. ‘Oh, and by the way,’ he said, pressing the floor button. ‘The porter there is also good for a fiver.’
    Highly excited, Caldicott hurried into his flat, threw down his bat and umbrella and beaded straight for the phone.
    â€˜Tudor Cottage. Charters speaking,’ Caldicott heard. ‘Oh, it’s you, Caldicott.’
    â€˜Charters, are you busy at the moment?’
    .’Well, it is rather an inconvenient time, since you ask.’
    â€˜This won’t take a sec, old man, and it is rather important. It’s just come to me where we’ve seen Helen Appleyard before. Do you know who she was, Charters? She was the flag seller outside the Club. You remember – selling petunias although it wasn’t Petunia Day.’
    â€˜Yes, I remember.’
    â€˜Clearly she was double-checking that we were where Grimes had told her we’d be, before nipping smartly round to the flat. I say, Charters, you don’t seem very surprised.’
    â€˜No, I’d already worked it out for myself.’
    â€˜Oh,’ said Caldicott, peeved. ‘Then here’s something I bet you haven’t worked out. Do you remember that chauffeur standing next to her, lolling against the Jag?’
    â€˜Vividly.’
    â€˜There was only a handful of chaps in the Club before lunch. We knew all of them and none of them runs to a chauffeur-driven Jag. Do you know what I think, Charters? I think that chauffeur was Helen Appleyard’s accomplice.’
    I’m inclined to agree with you. Is that all you have to say,