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‘Take your time, Paul. If they really want us they won’t ring off.’
Temple waited for a little while before switching the light on and picking up the ’phone.
‘Hello.’
‘Is that Paul Temple?’ A woman’s voice, speaking softly, as if she was afraid of being overheard.
‘Yes, speaking.’
‘This is Mrs Kelburn…’ There was a crackling on the line and he could hardly catch the name.
‘Who?’
‘Mrs Kelburn…Laura Kelburn…’
‘Oh, good evening – er – good morning, Mrs Kelburn.’
‘Mr Temple, I’m sorry to disturb you at this time of night, but – I’ve got to see you.’ There was desperation in her voice as she added: ‘It really is important.’
‘Well – what is it you want to see me about?’
‘About – about Julia. My stepdaughter.’
‘What about Julia?’ Temple asked, not trying very hard to conceal his impatience.
‘When can I see you, Mr Temple?’ She was still speaking so softly that he could hardly hear her. ‘Will nine o’clock be all right? I’ve got your address so…’
‘Look, Mrs Kelburn, I’m quite prepared to see you, but first of all I must know what this is all about.’
‘I’ve told you. It’s about my stepdaughter – Julia.’
‘Yes, I know, but what about Julia?’
There was a long pause, but no indication that she had rung off. Temple wondered whether someone had taken the receiver from her. Then suddenly she said very quickly but quite distinctly: ‘She’s going to be murdered.’
There came a click and Temple was left listening to the dialling tone.
‘Hello, Steve!’ Temple had finished his toast and marmalade and was pouring himself a second cup of coffee before his wife appeared for breakfast the next morning. ‘You’re nice and late this morning!’
‘Yes, I know,’ Steve admitted wryly. ‘I didn’t get to sleep until five o’clock.’
‘It’s not surprising. We didn’t stop talking until half past four. I’ll pour you some coffee.’
‘No, I don’t want any coffee, dear. I’ll just have the orange juice. What time is it, anyway?’
‘Twenty past nine.’
‘My word, we are late…’
‘Yes – and so’s your friend, Laura Kelburn. She said she’d be here by…‘He was stopped by a long peal on the doorbell. ‘This will be her now.’
‘Do you want me to stay?’
‘Yes, of course.’
Temple had time to pour an orange juice and put it down at Steve’s side of the table before Charlie opened the door.
‘Superintendent Raine would like to—’ Charlie broke off scandalised as the Superintendent pushed in past him. He had not even taken time to remove his overcoat.
‘Excuse me! Mr Temple, may I have a word with you?’
‘Yes, of course. All right, Charlie.’ Temple dismissed Charlie with a reassuring nod. ‘What is it, Raine? What’s happened?’
‘We picked a girl out of the river – about two hours ago. She’d been strangled. It was George Kelburn’s daughter.’
‘Julia Kelburn?’
‘Yes. But that isn’t everything.’ Raine paused for a moment. ‘The dead girl was wearing a coat. There was a name label stitched inside the collar. We’ve seen that name before, sir.’
Temple nodded. He was already ahead of Raine.
‘Margo?’
CHAPTER II (#uc982a306-f805-51d3-814a-b020874f1507)
Dead Lucky (#uc982a306-f805-51d3-814a-b020874f1507)
‘Well, there’s one person who won’t be surprised by the murder, Superintendent. That’s Julia’s stepmother – Laura Kelburn.’
Raine had accepted coffee and Charlie had deigned to bring an extra cup. The three were sitting round the breakfast table.
‘Why do you say that, Mrs Temple?’
It was Temple who answered. ‘Mrs Kelburn telephoned – at three o’clock this morning, mark you – and made an appointment to see me at nine o’clock. When I asked her why she wanted to see me she said it was about Julia – and that her stepdaughter was going to be murdered.’
‘This is extraordinary!’ Raine shook his head in bewilderment. ‘Quite extraordinary!’
‘I agree. When I picked up the ’phone and…’
‘No, you don’t understand,’ Raine cut in. ‘I’ve seen Mrs Kelburn – about an hour ago. I went to the house in the Boltons. She didn’t say anything about telephoning you – on the contrary she seemed staggered by the news of the murder. If anything, I think she was even more shaken by the news than her husband.’
‘She never mentioned the ’phone call?’
‘Not a word.’
‘How did Mr Kelburn react?’ Steve asked.
‘He was pretty badly shaken, of course, but I had the impression he’d been worried about his daughter for some time. She mixed with a pretty notorious crowd, you know, Mrs Temple.’
‘Yes. She was friendly with a man called Tony Wyman.’
‘I’m checking on Mr Wyman. I’ve got an appointment to see…’ Raine broke off. A receiver had been plugged in to the telephone socket in the dining-room and its bell had started to ring.
‘Excuse me.’ Temple swivelled round in his chair and reached for the instrument.
‘Paul Temple?’
‘Yes, speaking.’
‘This is Mike Langdon, Temple…’
‘Yes. I recognised your voice. Good morning, Langdon.’
‘Temple, I’ve got some terrible news…’
‘We’ve heard about Julia Kelburn.’ Temple cut the agitated recital short. ‘The Superintendent’s with me now.’
‘Then I expect he’s told you all the details?’
‘Well, yes. It’s a pretty awful business.’ Then, more sympathetically: ‘It must have been a shock for you, Langdon.’
‘Yes, it was – a terrible shock. I never realised the poor kid was so mixed up…But look, Temple – I want to ask you a favour.’ Paul met Steve’s eyes. Langdon’s voice was audible throughout the room. ‘Kelburn’s determined that the person responsible for this shan’t escape. He’s anxious to make the fullest possible investigation – expense no object.’
‘Well?’ Temple prompted non-committally.
‘He’d like to see you, Temple. He’d like you to call round this morning, if possible. They live in the Boltons, the house is called “Northdown”.’
‘I see.’ Temple raised his eyebrows enquiringly at Steve, who nodded. ‘Does that go for Mrs Kelburn, too?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Does Mrs Kelburn want me to call round?’
‘Why, yes, of course.’ Langdon was puzzled by the question. ‘I imagine so. She hasn’t said otherwise.’
Temple calculated for a moment, then said: ‘Tell Mr Kelburn I’ll be there at twelve o’clock.’
‘Right! Thanks a lot. I appreciate it…’
Temple put the receiver down, cutting off Langdon’s protestations of gratitude.
‘Excuse my asking, Mr Temple,’ Raine said, ‘but who’s this fellow Langdon?’
‘He’s one of Kelburn’s right-hand men. I met him on the ’plane coming over from New York. Kelburn sent for him. He apparently thought Langdon might be able to reform his daughter. I understand he’d got her out of one or two little scrapes in New York.’
‘All the way from New York because Kelburn couldn’t cope with his own daughter?’ Raine grinned at Steve. ‘Sounds a bit far-fetched.’
‘I don’t know,’ Temple said. ‘We never knew Julia Kelburn. We don’t even know what her father was up against. However, Langdon’s main job was to try and buy off Tony Wyman.’
‘That’s interesting. What happened?’
‘Wyman told Langdon he couldn’t care less about Julia – in no uncertain terms.’
‘Mm.’ Raine had brought a notebook out of his pocket and opened it at a page where there was a marker. He tapped his teeth with a pencil. ‘This chap Langdon – is he about forty, dark wavy hair, medium height, uses a pretty exotic aftershave?’
Temple smiled. ‘Yes, that’s him!’
‘He was hovering about when I interviewed Kelburn and his wife, but they didn’t introduce me. They were pretty upset, of course.’
Leaning over so that she could take a peek at Raine’s notebook, Steve was surprised to see that the page was covered with as many doodles and drawings as words. The Superintendent drew a circle round one of his sketches.
‘Would you say there’s been anything between Langdon and Julia Kelburn?’
‘I don’t think so, but I wouldn’t know, of course. You’d better ask Langdon that question.’
‘I will,’ Raine promised, putting away his notebook and standing up. ‘Thank you for the coffee, Mrs Temple.’
‘Our pleasure, Superintendent.’
‘You’ve no objection, I take it,’ Temple asked casually, as he ushered Raine to the door, ‘if I go along and see Kelburn?’
‘Not the slightest, Mr Temple.’ Raine gave him a smile and a long, straight look. ‘Not the slightest. It’s a free country so they tell me…’
‘It isn’t that I mistrust the police, Mr Temple. I just think that a case of this kind demands a more imaginative approach than the average police officer is capable of.’
The emotional stress he was under had made George Kelburn’s Yorkshire accent more pronounced. He was a burly man with the paunch and podgy cheeks of someone who can afford more whisky than was good for him, and it was evident that he had been seeking solace from the decanter. He was wearing a black tie with the dark blue suit which a skilful tailor had constructed to mask his bulk.
‘Mr Kelburn, I’ve worked with the police now for many years and I can assure you that the men at Scotland Yard are shrewd, intelligent and highly efficient.’
Since greeting Temple, Kelburn had not invited him to sit down. The furniture of the room was luxurious but brash and showy. Standing on the brilliantly patterned carpet Temple could look down through the window at a tiny walled garden.
‘Efficient, yes, maybe. But slow – slow. That’s the trouble – damned slow. My daughter’s been murdered, Mr Temple my only child…’ The tears were springing again to Kelburn’s eyes. ‘I’ll give anything to find the swine responsible for that murder. Just name the fee…’
Kelburn was chairman of over fifteen companies and believed that he could buy anyone’s services with a snap of his fingers and a flourish of his cheque book.
‘You don’t solve a case of this kind simply by paying someone a fat fee, Mr Kelburn,’ Temple said quietly. ‘The whole problem is far too—’
He saw Kelburn’s moist eyes focus over his left shoulder and turned round. A woman who looked about fifteen years younger than Kelburn had come quietly into the room.
‘Oh, there you are, Laura! I was wondering where you’d got to. Mr Temple – may I introduce my wife?’
‘How do you do, Mrs Kelburn? I believe you know Steve…’ As they shook hands Temple felt the chunky rings on her fingers. She had put on a dark grey suit, but her nails were painted and her auburn hair was as crisp as if she had just come from the hairdressers.
‘I do indeed. Is she well?’
‘Thank you, yes. She was looking forward to seeing you this morning.’
‘This morning?’ Laura echoed, obviously puzzled.
