Find the Innocent by Roy Vickers Read Free Book Online

that.
    â€œRightho! What time was he murdered?”
    â€œIn a police investigation, the police ask the questions.”
    â€œThe reddest of red tape, Inspector! The time is bound to be published today, if it’s not so already.”
    â€œCall it around midnight.”
    â€œGood enough! She was here before sunset and she stayed—you’ve probably found out the exact time her car did leave—the car she called from Weston’s Garage. After two, anyhow. So she can’t possibly be involved. And I can’t possibly be obstructing the police.”
    â€œWe know a woman was here,” said Curwen. “And we know the time she left. But we don’t know that you were here with her. She can tell us.” He hurried on: “It doesn’t matter what the other two say. The statements of all of you have to be checked—you’re all under suspicion.”
    Curwen added the little speech about waiting at headquarters.
    After the three men had left for Renchester, under a guard instructed to keep them apart, Curwen relaxed. Seating himself on a bollard on the lockside, he briefed the photographer and his assistant.
    â€œWe know there was a woman in the house at around two this morning and that she used the telephone. That’s all we do know about her. You’re looking for her dabs and anything that sticks out, showing how long she was here.”
    To Benjoy he said: “When they’ve finished with the ’phone you can ask the Chief Constable’s department to send out a man to operate the lock—I don’t think those boys will be coming back. Then you can run about and see if you can start something.”
    He himself took out a pipe. The bollard—remembering it was a bollard—was not too uncomfortable: the water tumbling over the weir was soothing. His hair was greying: he had been called out of bed very early and—as he thought—unnecessarily: he was sleepy. No sense in fussing the men at their work! A pity bollards hadn’t any backs! That woman was becoming too important, though she was a side issue. Could not have been directly linked with the murder.
    Assuming these men had some sense, they would know that the moment the woman was found she would say which of the men was at the lockhouse—making the comic alibi stunt still sillier. It often happened that persons who were very clever at their jobs were fools at everything else. So there were three fools in a bunch. Lucky! Lucky, too, that they had used that conspicuous old crock of a car. Lucky the girl had spoken on the ’phone and the garage had noted the time.
    Young Benjoy came back grinning like a dog with a bone.
    â€œBit o’ luck, sir!” Curwen winced. “They’ve left the washing up. A tray left over from last night: two cocktail glasses: one had orange juice in it. Bottle of orange juice newly opened for one tot only; very clear dabs on bottle and cellophane wrapper. More!”
    â€œCheers!” groaned Curwen. “Everybody and everything joining in, even the cellophane! If they’re her dabs we’ve got a line on her, if she has a record. And if they’re his dabs we shall know which man stayed at the lockhouse. These crooks are working up the case for us. Blackleg labour, I call it. And you tell me there’s more. Go ahead!”
    â€œThe telephone was wiped clean,” continued Benjoy, “as if he didn’t want us to know a girl had been here. But I found some face tissue in the fireplace.”
    â€œCor! Meaning bits of somebody’s face?”
    â€œIt’s paper tissue, sir. Women use it to wipe off the old make-up when they want to doll up afresh.”
    â€œDid she happen to write her name and a ’phone number on the back? … It’s all right, boy! I’m pulling your leg. Some jobs are as easy as they look—most of ’em, when you come to think of it. But when everybody is helping and