Murder Comes Calling by C. S. Challinor Read Free Book Online Page B

prepared a fresh pot, Rex ruminated over the lack of suspects other than Chris Walker. And yet, where was the smoking gun? No bloody shoeprints had been found, only a damp one on the front door mat. The house agent might have come by to update Ernest on some potential interest or to discuss a price reduction, or any number of items related to the property.
    Rex wished he could eliminate the bloody letters from the equation. However, they must hold some degree of significance if the killer had smeared them on the victims. Vicious murder had clearly been the intent and not burglary. If only Malcolm had not acted out of paranoia and washed the letters away. Rex could not help but feel disappointed in his friend and frustrated that neither he nor the police had a full set of facts.
    Malcolm sat down and placed the teapot on the quilted mat. Rex watched, distracted. The ringing of the phone in the hall interrupted his sequence of thoughts. Malcolm jumped up to answer it, panic written all over his face.
    “Do you think it’s DCI Cooper?” he asked.
    “There’s only one way to find oot.”
    “Right.” His friend visibly braced himself and marched into the hall.

seven
    Rex heard a hesitant “Hello?” from Malcolm and then his relieved voice saying, “Oh, Lottie, dear … Yes, he is. One moment. It’s for you,” he called out to Rex. “Lottie,” he said covering the mouthpiece with his hand as Rex approached. “She says she remembered something.”
    “Good. Let’s hope it’s something worthwhile,” Rex said under his breath. He took the phone. “Lottie, you have something for me?”
    “Well, it might be something or nothing. I was going over our conversation while I was Hoovering the living room and for some reason I remembered some weeks back Ernest saying it was time for him and Frankie to move on. He seemed troubled. This was when I was asking about the For Sale sign in his garden. Soon after that, Barry Burns, Vic Chandler, and Valerie Trotter all put their homes on the market. The first sign to go up was that horrible man’s at Forty-Five Fox Lane. We were all relieved when that happened. Then the woman up the road, Charlotte what’s-her-name, put her house up for sale. After the murders, it was the Ballantines’ home, under a different house agent. I’m sure more will follow.”
    Rex was wondering where all this was going when Lottie said, “Anyway, I didn’t know who Frankie was. I thought maybe it was his cat or a hamster. I’d never set foot in his house, so I didn’t know if he had a pet. It could have been a goldfish for all I know. He didn’t have any children. I was about to ask him, but his phone rang and he hurried inside to get it. To my knowledge, no pet was found when the police came to investigate his murder.”
    “Frankie could be a woman’s name, couldn’t it?” Rex asked. “Short for Francesca.”
    “Shame to change such a pretty name,” Lottie remarked.
    “I changed mine from Reginald.”
    “In your case, Rex is better.”
    “Thank you. And thanks for that bit of information. I’ll ask Malcolm if he knows of anyone by the name of Frankie.” He turned to Malcolm, who shook his head in the negative. “Did you talk to Ernest again after that?” Rex enquired of Lottie.
    “About a week later. I recall him telling me he might have buyers for the house. He said he’d had several people look at it, but no real interest until a young couple came along.”
    “A young couple?”
    “Yes. That’s all he told me. But he seemed pleased. He was eager to move. Something about wanting to be closer to his sister in Cheshire. I’m afraid that’s all I can tell you. But this couple might be able to give you some information about Chris Walker.”
    “Did the police interview them?” Rex asked.
    “I don’t know. I didn’t think to mention it to the police. They were mainly interested in what I witnessed through the window and what happened after that. Does it help