Quest for a Killer by Alanna Knight Read Free Book Online Page A

entertainment), suggested that she might well have been an actress herself at some stage of her life, before she met Felix Miles Rice.
    If that was so, one could not blame her for keeping it quiet. Many actresses who married rich or titled men were very keen to keep their humbler origins secret.

CHAPTER SEVEN
    Jack was as good as his word. He arrived so early next morning I wondered if he was expecting breakfast to be offered: that had been the pattern of our early days together when he would look in on his way to the central office; this was before we became seriously involved, when he frequently stayed the night.
    Fortunately I was an early riser and uncharitably wondered if he expected to see me at my worst, as if I had just tumbled out of bed. Rather triumphantly, I offered him a cup of tea and a piece of bread.
    He shook his head. ‘I’ve eaten already. Thank you.’ But taking a seat at the table he seemed very relaxed and, irritatingly, Thane drifted immediately to his side, the master welcomed home again.
    Stroking his head, Jack looked round the kitchen and smiled. ‘Just like old times, Rose. Nothing has changed, not even you,’ he added with an admiring glance which I avoided.
    ‘One of us has certainly changed,’ I said sharply. ‘You, Jack, remember? You got married.’
    As he winced at the reminder, he leant forward and said, ‘And as I said, seeing you in the royal box with Mrs Rice, you have certainly moved up the social ladder.’
    ‘You know Mrs Rice?’
    ‘Only by sight.’ He hesitated. ‘Quite a coincidence you knowing her too. Everyone knows Felix Miles Rice and his beautiful wife, even in Glasgow. Not merely ornamental but full of good works, rapidly qualifying her as one of the city’s eminent lady bountifuls.’
    A dismissive shrug and he continued, ‘But I’m not here to talk about Edinburgh society. I’ve come to ask you a favour, Rose.’
    ‘A favour?’ I said cautiously.
    ‘The officer in charge of this fraud case has been taken seriously ill, and the assistant chief constable (who I knew in his lowlier early days) wants me to take it on. My Edinburgh connection, you know.’ He paused and laughed gently. ‘Wheels within wheels. He would love to have me back on the force.’
    Looking intently at me, he was suddenly silent. ‘So I’m here to ask for your help and advice – in your professional capacity.’
    His words amazed me. In the past he had always been ready to pour scorn on lady detectives and had hooted with laughter at my business card: ‘Lady Investigator, Discretion Guaranteed, indeed!’
    Had he forgotten that my ‘profession’, as he called it, was the main reason why he had abandoned me? This was a new Jack indeed.
    ‘Will you help me, Rose?’
    I hesitated. ‘Depends on what is involved.’
    He nodded. ‘Speed is involved and this is an instance where a woman investigator might make considerably more headway than the police, and I hardly need tell you that your much vaunted discretion guaranteed can be of great service to the community in this case. I am asking your help to track down a murderer.’
    He paused. ‘Well, what say you? Are you willing?’
    I might not be willing but I was intrigued and, yes, a little flattered too. ‘Tell me more. Is this to do with the fraud case?’
    He ignored that and said, ‘You will have read, of course, of the two girls who committed suicide within hours of one another in the slum tenements of St Leonard’s, less than a mile from where we are sitting now.’
    That had my immediate attention. I said I had read about it and he continued, ‘There are some baffling circumstances about this case, and in all truth, it seems more like two murders than suicides.’
    ‘The newspapers have hinted at doubts, of course. But
that’s
how they increase their sales. One does not have to take such things seriously,’ I said.
    He sighed. ‘Precisely so. But the police have only circumstantial evidence that the girls were