Trouble Brewing by Dolores Gordon-Smith Read Free Book Online

entire firm should be disrupted because of one man”.’
    â€˜What did he mean by that, I wonder?’
    â€˜I only wish I knew.’ Jack puffed at his pipe thoughtfully. ‘Pronouns are the devil, aren’t they? “One man” could mean Hunt, Valdez, Mark Helston himself or even, although I think it’s unlikely, Martin Crowther from United Stores. At this stage it’s impossible to guess. What I do think odd, though, is this. The Jaggards both told us that Mark had no prejudice against South Americans. According to Pat Jaggard, Helston enjoyed his trip to Brazil and had shown no animosity towards Valdez. But Frederick Hunt said that Helston felt the weight of the white man’s burden to such an extent that the cause of the quarrel was Helston’s dislike of, as he delicately put it, foreigners. I helped him out a bit with that. He was so obviously trying not to say
Damned dagoes
.’ He glanced at his friend. ‘You’re looking pensive, Bill. Why? Is it deep thought or the horsehair upholstery?’
    â€˜Well . . .’ Bill shook his head slowly, then grinned. ‘I don’t want to be personal, but I do wonder if you were the right person to ask Patricia Jaggard that question. I mean, your face is your face and although it’s perfectly decent as far as faces go . . .’
    â€˜It’s not the most Anglo-Saxon mug you’ve ever seen?’ Jack laughed. ‘D’you think that’s all it is? I didn’t feel she was going out of her way to be gracious.’
    Bill’s grin widened. ‘Your much-vaunted charm failed to bring home the bacon, didn’t it? You usually have girls eating out of your hand in the first five minutes.’
    â€˜Bill!’ Jack was shocked. ‘What a revolting idea. Messy, too. I don’t charm and I certainly don’t vaunt. I’m merely polite.’
    â€˜Come off it. I’ve seen you switch it on.’
    â€˜Drop it, will you?’ pleaded Jack. ‘You make me sound like an advert for Gleamo toothpaste. However, leaving these gross personalities to one side, Helston, we know, was alive and well at half past seven on the ninth of January. What’s the last time anyone saw Valdez?’
    â€˜The manager of the Montague Court Hotel says that the last they saw of Valdez was at seven o’clock or thereabouts on Friday the ninth when he handed his room key into the desk clerk. He was carrying a small case and mentioned that he was meeting a friend and might end up staying out overnight. The desk clerk assured him that was perfectly in order from the hotel’s point of view, and off he went.’
    â€˜Hang on. He was due to sail the next day, wasn’t he? Didn’t anyone smell a rat?’
    â€˜Not then, no. By the time Sunday morning came round and Valdez still hadn’t returned, the manager began to get uneasy and entered the room. All of Valdez’s things were still there. Now at this point the manager should have informed us, but he hesitated until the Tuesday morning.’
    â€˜Didn’t anyone think to ask the Hunt Coffee people?’
    â€˜There wasn’t anything in the room to connect him with Hunt Coffee. As far as the manager was concerned, Valdez was a private visitor. After all, hotels don’t usually grill their guests about the purpose of their stay.’
    â€˜No, I can see that. What about his passport?’
    â€˜It was in his room. There was no money there, but all his clothes and personal belongings were untouched. The manager assumed that Senhor Valdez had met with an accident and so did we. We contacted the hospitals, but no one answering to his description had been admitted and there, I’m sorry to say, the matter rested.’
    â€˜Didn’t Inspector Murray think it was odd?’
    â€˜I don’t suppose Inspector Murray knew anything about it. They were different enquiries, you see. Murray had been told Valdez had