The Boathouse by R. J. Harries Read Free Book Online Page B

turned around and frowned when he recognised him.
    â€œOh, it’s you – look, I’m on my break.”
    â€œCan I ask you some questions?”
    â€œSure, but my memory is not so good, huh.” He smiled confidently and licked his lips. Archer flashed his wallet and told him to follow. They went out the rear entrance where it was quiet and stood in an empty hotel parking bay. Archer gave him two hundred pounds and heard all he knew in less than two minutes.
    Archer walked around the outside of the hotel and got back into the waiting car at the main entrance. Jones pulled away and gently nudged the car back onto Park Lane. They were heading towards South Kensington to Louise Palmer’s house.
    â€œSo what did he have to say?” Jones asked.
    â€œNot a lot.”
    â€œNothing?”
    â€œHe was given the job by phone and paid six hundred in cash upon delivering the bag to a waiting taxi. Supposed to be going to Heathrow to catch up with Mr Jefferson.”
    â€œWas it a black cab?”
    â€œHe thinks it was a regular black cab driver with a cockney accent who gave him an envelope. He didn’t take down the number.”
    As they drove along part of the earlier street circuit, Jones pointed to his left and said: “Her sister’s office is down there. She lives a short walk away.”
    Louise Palmer’s travel company was located amongst the designer clothes shops of Sloane Street. A good location for wealthy passing trade.
    The black Mercedes cruised quietly down Gloucester Road before slowing down at Launceston Place. They inched carefully through a narrow wisteria-covered stone archway onto the cobbles of Kenance Mews. The sister’s house was a pretty mews cottage painted off-white with pale blue shutters and woodwork. Very Provençal.
    They stopped twenty yards away. The lights were on and the curtains closed. Jones told him that she always left the lights on timer and the house was alarmed.
    â€œTell me about the conversation on the way to the airport. I think it’s important. Just what was it Becky said to Louise?”
    â€œMrs Sinclair was upset about something. Her sister said they would talk about it when she came back. In the meantime she should pamper herself and shop.”
    â€œWhat was she upset about?”
    â€œShe said that she wanted to get her own doctor. She didn’t want to use Mr Sinclair’s private clinic doctors any more.”
    â€œWhat else?”
    â€œMrs Palmer was in a really bad mood because she’d left her mobile phone in her office so she had to buy a new one in the airport.”
    A moving shadow was visible on the cream-coloured curtains upstairs. It was obvious that someone was inside the house, moving around. Jones and Archer looked at each other and Archer opened his door.
    â€œLet’s go and find out who’s in the house while she’s away.”
    They left the car a few houses down from Louise’s and walked up to the front door. Jones rang the bell and they waited.
    No answer. They waited patiently for a minute before ringing the bell again. Still nothing. Then another minute before ringing it again and knocking on the door hard. A woman’s voice shouted: “Hold on.”
    Someone stomped rapidly down the stairs, rattled the chain and unlocked the door. A tired-looking woman with short orange hair, tight faded jeans and an even tighter white T-shirt recognised Jones immediately. She was the regular cleaner working late.
    â€œWhat do you want?”
    â€œIs Mrs Palmer in?” Jones said.
    â€œNo. She’s away on business.”
    â€œDo you know when she’ll be back?”
    â€œNext week, I have to go.”
    She slammed the door in their faces.
    â€œPolish,” Jones said as they walked back to the car. Jones started the engine but didn’t drive off. He just sat there as if he wanted to get something off his chest.
    â€œWhat’s the