Princes Gate by Mark Ellis Read Free Book Online Page A

London. Should’a stayed at home with us. But not her, with ’er fancy elocution lessons and ’er sectarial training. No, she wanted to come up ’ere. Fat good it’s done ’er.”
    He subsided back onto the sofa.
    “I think perhaps before we talk to Mr Harris and take him, to er…” Merlin lowered his voice “view the girl, it might be wise to give him a cup of coffee.”
    “I’ll see to that now.”
    “And perhaps, while that’s being done, you and I could have a little chat.”
    “Of course. Give me a moment and then I’ll join you in my office. It’s on the first floor. Morgan will show you the way.”
    They followed the chauffeur up the richly-carpeted grand staircase and then down a wide corridor. Opposite a large print of San Francisco before the great earthquake, they were ushered into a snug room with blue patterned wallpaper and a roaring fire.
    “Sit yourselves down, gentlemen,” said Morgan. “If you need me, I’ll be down in the garage.”
    Merlin looked out of the window at the picture-postcard view of a white and frosty Hyde Park. In the distance a lively pair of energetic dogs scurried up and down the icy steps of the Albert Memorial.
    Their hostess arrived and seated herself behind a small desk near the fire. “An awful business. I do hope there’s some mistake.”
    “Of course.”
    There was a knock at the door and a striking, young, redheaded girl poked her head through the door. “Do you need anything, Miss Edgar?”
    “I’m not sure Kathleen. Do you want anything to drink gentlemen?” The policemen declined and the girl disappeared, oblivious to their appreciative glances.
    Merlin cleared his throat. “I’d just like to get an idea of what sort of girl Joan is, Miss Edgar.”
    “A pleasant but ordinary girl, Chief Inspector.”
    “Sociable? Does she have many friends? Girlfriends, boyfriends?”
    “She is a young, twenty-year-old girl up from the country. She appeared to be friendly and sociable. I am not aware of any boyfriends but I can’t keep tabs on the Ambassador’s staff once they leave the building.”
    “Does she have any particular friends amongst the staff?”
    “I suppose she is friendly with Kathleen, whom you saw a moment ago, and some of the other girls.”
    “Is she a pretty girl?”
    “In a common sort of way, I suppose.” Miss Edgar glanced quickly at her own profile in a mirror facing her desk.
    “What is her job exactly?”
    “The Embassy has a pool of typists of which she is one. The Ambassador does a lot of his work here in the residence and likes to have a few girls based here rather than at the Embassy. As I’m in overall charge here, I keep an eye on them. There are usually three or four girls based here at any one time. Joan is one, Kathleen is another. When they’re not required for pure secretarial work I use them for various errands. I like to keep everyone busy. Of course, the girls continue to support the rest of the pool at the Embassy as and when required.” A car horn sounded noisily in the street outside.
    “Is Miss Harris a good worker?”
    Miss Edgar carefully examined her fingernails. “She is a very proficient typist. Probably the quickest and most accurate in the pool.”
    “Do her typing duties cover all levels of communication?”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Does she see top-secret documents?”
    “All the Ambassador’s personal staff naturally have security clearance from the US government but I can’t see how that…” A fly landed on the desk and Miss Edgar paused to brush it away. “But, yes. Yes is the answer to your question.”
    “How long has Joan worked here, Miss?”
    “About eighteen months, Sergeant. She joined us in the middle of ’thirty-eight, just after the Ambassador had arrived.”
    “Any problems with her during this period?”
    “None that I can particularly recall. She is very good at her job, keeps good time – at least she did up till now – and has a pleasing personality, although