The Snuffbox Murders Read Free Page B

to elicit that he was an inventor in the throes of something important that he needed to keep secret until it had been registered with the patents office. His particular work necessitated a secure room, and she explained why she was so certain that he was in there.
    She was leaning against the worktop, breathing noisily, looking up at the kitchen clock, watching the second hand sweep little by little round the dial, while the other hands indicated that it was almost two o’clock in the morning, when the front doorbell rang. She banged down the tumbler, ran to the door and opened it.
    A big, suntanned man in a suede coat stood on the step smiling at her.
    ‘Mrs Razzle.’
    ‘You’ve been a helluva time, Mr Farleigh,’ she said.
    He looked at her in surprise, jaw dropped. ‘Came as quickly as I could,’ he said as he dragged two valises into the hall.
    ‘You know where it is. Please make your way there.’
    He bustled down the hall, into the kitchen, nodded at the two policemen, went through the door to the basement and down the steps.
    Mrs Razzle followed close on his heels, with the two policemen behind her.
    At the security room door, Farleigh lowered the valises to the floor, turned to Mrs Razzle and said, ‘You’re certain he’s in there?’
    ‘Positive,’ she said. ‘And he must be ill or something’s wrong, otherwise he would have answered the phone.’
    Farleigh rubbed his chin. ‘Hmm. There’s only one way I can open this door, Mrs Razzle. It will take some time.’
    Her eyes flashed. ‘What? I expected you to open it straight away. You built it, after all.’
    He shook his head. ‘It’s a security room, Mrs Razzle,’ he said as he took off his suede coat and draped it over the newel post. ‘Access is not supposed to be easy. That’s why it’s called … a security room .’
    ‘There’s no quicker way?’
    ‘Only dynamite.’
    ‘Well, use that then.’
    He grinned. ‘We’d need permission from the local authority … that would take a month … anyway, down here we might blow a hole in the sewer. And you wouldn’t like that.’
    She threw her hands up in the air and said, ‘Well, do something!’ She breathed in noisily and turned away. She turned back, looked at her watch. ‘It’s ten minutes past two already.’
    She made for the stairs.
    The policemen stood back to allow her to pass.
    Then she turned back to Farleigh. ‘I will be in the kitchen. Let me know as soon as that door can be opened.’
    She marched up the steps into the kitchen.
    Farleigh looked at the policemen, grinned, then busied himself securing a small processor to the door lock with magnets then, from that, a lead to a USB port in a hand-held computer powered by mains electric from a socket low down on the wall. That done, he began a search for the combination. Starting from zero, illuminated red numbers ticked progressively on the small LCD screen. The lock had a six-digit combination number, so he said it might take a long time.
    The policemen, who were on the basement steps leaning over the handrail, watched fascinated. Over Farleigh’s shoulder, they could see the numbers slowly tick away. After ten minutes, they became bored and went upstairs to the kitchen.
    Mrs Razzle was nowhere to be seen.
    Donohue went into the hall. Through an open door, he saw a light. He wandered towards it. It led into the drawing room. The light source was from a pretty lamp on a small table next to a large luxurious sofa. He saw Mrs Razzle full length on the sofa apparently in a deep sleep. She looked like the fairytale princess from some extravagant Hollywood movie. He enjoyed just looking at her. All that was missing was the music from a hundred-piece orchestra. His eyes travelled to the table where he saw the tumbler half-full of brandy. He didn’t want to disturb her. He crept quietly out of the room and returned to the kitchen.
    PC Elder was looking at an electric kettle that was about to boil. He turned to Donohue. ‘Does