Hardcastle's Frustration Read Free Page B

was found in the river near Westminster Bridge this morning.’
    â€˜What happened? Did he commit suicide?’
    â€˜That’s something I’m trying to find out, Mr Harvey.’
    â€˜You say that you sent one of your staff to his home,’ said Marriott. ‘Perhaps you’d tell us his address.’ Although the letter from Daisy Benson that had been found on the body was just legible, the water had washed away the address on the envelope.
    â€˜Certainly.’ Harvey took a book from the top drawer of his desk, and thumbed through the pages. ‘Yes, here we are. He lived with his wife Mavis in Canbury Park Road, Kingston. I’ll write it down for you.’ He scribbled the details on a piece of paper and handed it to Marriott.
    â€˜What age was Mr Parker?’ asked Marriott.
    Harvey referred to his book again. ‘He was thirty-eight. Born on the twenty-third of July 1879.’
    â€˜What sort of man was Ronald Parker?’ asked Hardcastle.
    Harvey considered the question and then replied as though he were furnishing a reference for a trusted employee. ‘He was a sober man, very punctual, and fastidious in his work. In fact, I could find no fault with him whatsoever. I understand he was a regular churchgoer too. We’ll miss him, and a replacement will be hard to find. I suppose it’ll mean employing another woman.’ Harvey sighed. ‘Most men are in the army or the navy now.’
    â€˜Talking of which, have you any idea why Parker wasn’t called up?’ Hardcastle knew that Lord Derby’s 1916 Military Service Act had been widened to include all men under the age of forty-one, whether married or single. ‘Being a gas company clerk is hardly what you’d call a reserved occupation.’
    â€˜He was not a well man,’ said Harvey. ‘He suffered from breathlessness quite badly. I told him it was because he smoked too many cigarettes, but he wouldn’t give them up.’
    â€˜Was his marriage a happy one?’
    Harvey appeared to bridle at that question. ‘I don’t enquire into the private lives of my employees, Inspector,’ he said loftily. ‘All I ask is that they do a decent day’s work, and Parker was one of the best people I had here. Which was why the board promoted him to chief clerk a year ago.’
    â€˜Thank you for your assistance, Mr Harvey,’ said Hardcastle. ‘I’ll not bother you further today, but we may need to speak to you again. Perhaps you can direct me to this here Canbury Park Road.’
    â€˜It’s no more than half a mile from here.’ Harvey stood up and indicated a large-scale street map pinned to his notice board. ‘We’re here,’ he said, pointing with a pencil, ‘and Canbury Park Road is there.’ He moved the pencil to indicate the road where the Parkers lived.
    â€˜I’m much obliged,’ said Hardcastle, turning to leave.
    â€˜Perhaps you’d let me know when the funeral is to take place, Inspector,’ said Harvey. ‘I should like to attend, to represent the company, you understand.’
    â€˜Very well, Mr Harvey, and good day to you.’

TWO
    T he Parkers’ house was a narrow, detached Victorian villa with a bay and, above it, a single sash window. Hardcastle and Marriott walked past a well-kept garden and up the side of the house to the front door. Marriott hammered on the knocker, but there was no reply.
    â€˜I’ve got a feeling that this murder of ours ain’t going to go the way we want it to, Marriott,’ muttered Hardcastle. ‘Better try next door, I suppose.’
    The middle-aged woman who answered the door of the adjacent house was neatly dressed and her hair was swept up and secured with an inordinate number of hairpins. She studied the two men with an enquiring gaze, as if they were itinerant salesmen.
    â€˜We don’t buy at the door,’ she said curtly.
    â€˜Very wise,