Death Line Read Free Page A

the production of 2.4 children.
    Astell's smile had a certain diffident charm. He was quite a good-looking man, Rafferty realised. Along with his distinctly old-fashioned manners, he had the kind of face that, for some reason, made Rafferty think of tragic First World War poets; all planes and angles and shadowed melancholic hollows.
    “It's not magic, Inspector,” Astell told him. “Merely observation and rather elementary observation at that. Any student of palmistry could tell you as much. Your sergeant's hand is long, slim and full of lines, what we term a Water hand. It invariably points to sensitivity and an interest in the arts. The intellectuality is indicated by the long, straight Head Lines on both palms and the length of the topmost phalanges on his fingers. I told you, nothing can be concealed from an experienced palmist.”
    Hastily, Rafferty put his hands behind his back, in case Astell was tempted to point out certain aspects of his own character. He doubted their revelation would render his expression as smug as that of his sergeant. “And Jasper Moon was an experienced palmist?” he queried
    “Oh yes, of course. Don't let Jasper's esoteric taste in decor give you the wrong idea. His knowledge was wide. I only dabble, though, as I said, astrologically, Jasper has taught me a lot. Of course, my real training is on the business side, which is why Jasper originally employed me before he offered me the partnership. I still take care of the administration side of the business.”
    Rafferty felt out of his depth with all this hocus-pocus, as he thought of it. Whether Moon had been murdered by one of his clients or not, it sounded to Rafferty as if Moon's profession could offer lucrative opportunities to the unscrupulous. Judging from the quantity of files that had been scattered about Moon's room, he had a lot of clients, and, as his charges were, in Rafferty's opinion, extortionate, none of his clients was likely to be poor. They would all have to be questioned and eliminated. Rafferty sighed and asked, “How soon could you let us know if anything's missing, sir?”
    “As to the files – I'll have to go through the client list and match it up with the individual folders. It'll take a little while.”
    Rafferty nodded. “You can do that as soon as the forensic team have finished with them. What about the rest of Mr Moon's stuff? Did you notice if anything was missing?”
    Astell's narrow face was apologetic. “It was a bit difficult to tell. Jasper liked a lot of clutter about him.”
    “What about money, sir?” Llewellyn put in. “Do you keep much cash on the premises?”
    “Not usually, but, as a matter of fact, Jasper asked me to draw £1000 out of the bank only yesterday morning. It should still be in the cash box.”
    “Where do you keep this box?” Rafferty questioned.
    “In one of the drawers of Jasper's desk.”
    “If you'll just wait here, sir, I'll check.” Rafferty quickly put his gloves back on and opened the door to the waiting room. There was another door on the other side connected to Moon's office. He opened this too, and after a quick word with Appleby, walked over to the desk. The cashbox, a large, black affair, squatted in the deepest of the drawers. After lifting the other two drawers from on top of it, Rafferty attempted to raise its lid with a paperknife, but it was obviously locked. He shouted through to Astell, “Have you got the key, sir?”
    Astell appeared at the door and, after painstakingly removing a key from a leather pouch in his jacket pocket, he handed it to Llewellyn who passed it over. Careful to touch nothing, Rafferty inserted the key and turned it, raising the lid with the knife. The usual coin tray was on top. It must have contained about £50 in coins and with difficulty, Rafferty raised this, too, and peered underneath. Apart from a few folded sheets of stamps, the bottom of the cashbox was empty. “You said there should be a £1000 in notes?”
    Astell