Hardcastle's Traitors Read Free Page B

you, Mr Partridge,’ he said. ‘You’ve been a great help. I’ll have an officer call round later in the day to take a written statement from you. Unless you’re prepared to make one now.’
    â€˜Yes, why not, sir? I doubt I’ll get much sleep tonight. But at least I’ll have a half-day today, it being a Saturday.’
    â€˜Get one of those two officers up here to take a statement from Mr Partridge, Marriott,’ said Hardcastle. ‘And make it Watkins rather than Catto.’
    â€˜Yes, sir.’ In Marriott’s view Catto was a good detective and he could never understand why the DDI did not share that opinion. But it was probably because Catto appeared to lose his self-confidence whenever he was in Hardcastle’s presence.
    Returning to Reuben Gosling’s shop, Marriott dispatched Watkins to take Partridge’s statement and then he and Hardcastle began to look around.
    â€˜There’s quite a lot of blood on this showcase, Marriott,’ said Hardcastle. ‘It’s likely that one of our villains cut himself on the broken glass. And that might mean he wasn’t wearing gloves at the time. Be a good idea to get Mr Collins down here to see if he can find any useful fingerprints.’
    Detective Inspector Charles Stockley Collins was head of the Fingerprint Bureau at Scotland Yard and the comparatively new science of fingerprints had helped to apprehend numerous criminals during the last ten years. Such evidence had first been accepted by the courts in 1905 when the Stratton brothers were convicted of murdering a Deptford oil-shop keeper and his wife.
    The door to Gosling’s shop crashed open and the tall impressive figure of Dr Bernard Spilsbury, attired in full evening dress, stood on the threshold.
    â€˜Good evening, my dear Hardcastle. I understand you have a cadaver for me. Ah, yes, I see it.’ Spilsbury glanced at the dead body of Reuben Gosling and rubbed his hands together.
    â€˜Indeed I do, Doctor,’ said Hardcastle. ‘But it looks as though we’ve interrupted your celebrations.’
    â€˜Think nothing of it, my dear fellow,’ said Spilsbury, handing his Gladstone bag, top hat, cape, and cane to DC Catto. ‘My wife Edith invited all manner of boring people to dinner to celebrate the New Year. To tell the truth, I was delighted to escape.’ Although only thirty-eight years of age, Spilsbury was the foremost forensic pathologist of the period. His evidence at the trial of Hawley Harvey Crippen and Ethel Le Neve in 1910 first brought him to the notice of the public, and whenever he now appeared at the Old Bailey to give evidence, the public gallery was usually full if not overflowing. And six months ago, in the case of the Brides-in-the-Bath murders, he was able to demonstrate precisely how George Joseph Smith had killed his three victims, thus negating defence counsel’s suggestion of accidental death by drowning.
    â€˜There’s a bloodstained sash weight over here that I found earlier, sir,’ said Catto. ‘It had rolled underneath that cupboard,’ he added, pointing at a wooden cabinet adjacent to the counter.
    â€˜Well done, Constable,’ said Spilsbury. ‘You’ve got a sharp-eyed man there, Hardcastle.’
    â€˜Sometimes,’ muttered the DDI.
    Spilsbury knelt down to examine the body of Reuben Gosling. ‘It was undoubtedly the blow to the head that did for him,’ he said, turning his head to address Hardcastle. He pulled an envelope from his inside pocket and rested it on the floor. Using a silver propelling pencil, he made a few notes. ‘Well, that’s all I can do for the time being.’ He stood up and brushed the knees of his trousers.
    â€˜There’s a blood stain on one of the showcases, Doctor,’ said Hardcastle. ‘I was wondering if it belongs to one of our killers.’
    â€˜I’ll take a sample and analyse it for you,’ said