The Man Who Couldn't Lose Read Online Free Page B

wheelchair off a bridge?’
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    â€˜Ahmed, I want you to contact the phone company and get a list of calls made from Mr Gumme’s mobile and his home phone, over the past two weeks.’
    â€˜Right, sir.’
    Angel’s phone rang. He reached out for it.
    â€˜Angel.’
    â€˜This is reception, sir. There’s a lady, a Mrs Gumme to see you.’
    â€˜Right. I won’t keep her a minute. I’m sending PC Ahaz straight up for her.’
    â€˜Right, sir.’
    He replaced the phone and looked up at Ahmed.
    â€˜She’s here. Nip off smartly and bring her down.’
    Ahmed dashed out of the office and up the corridor.
    Two minutes later, he strode down the green corridor followed by a woman taking small rapid steps because of her slim pencil skirt and high-heeled shoes.
    Angel was at his office door to greet her.
    â€˜Thank you for being so prompt, Mrs Gumme.’
    She nodded.
    He looked sympathetically into her heavily made-up face. Her eyes were red and her lips trembling. And there was a smell of something sweet and unusual. It must have been perfume.
    â€˜Thank you for coming in,’ he said, holding out his hand to shake hers. He rubbed his chin with the other. ‘I’m so sorry to be the bearer of such sad news.’
    â€˜Someone has to … had to tell me,’ she said in a small voice. He noticed that when relaxed her mouth was usually open slightly, and her lips formed the letter O.
    â€˜Would you like a cup of tea?’ he said.
    There was a brief smile. She lowered her thick eyelashes momentarily and nodded.
    Angel looked at Ahmed and held up three fingers.
    Ahmed understood and rushed down the corridor to the private little cupboard in the CID room.
    â€˜If it’s all the same to you,’ Angel said, putting his hand on her elbow and steering her towards Interview Room 2, ‘we’ll record this interview. It will avoid going over it twice and save time.’
    â€˜I’m all for that, Inspector. I have to get back. There is so much to do.’
    She sighed. The eyelashes dropped then flickered up.
    â€˜Oh dear. Now that Joshua is … dead, I have to do everything myself.’ She dabbed her eyes with a tissue. ‘It’s something I’ve got to get used to.’
    He pointed to a chair by the table. She sat down quickly and put a small handbag on the table in front of her.
    Angel looked at her; he couldn’t imagine this woman as an appropriate partner for Joshua Gumme, wheelchair-bound, ill-mannered, card-playing crook.
    He pushed a tape into the machine. He checked that the red light was on and the spools turning.
    â€˜Tell me about last night.’
    â€˜Yes. Hmm. We had dinner at home as usual about seven, the two of us, then at eight Joshua pushed his chair away from the table—’
    â€˜Who was in the house at that time?’
    â€˜Just Joshua, and me.’
    Angel nodded.
    â€˜Joshua pushed himself away from the table. He was rather quiet. I knew something was wrong. I had asked him but he wouldn’t tell me. I assumed it was to do with the business. It almost always was. He went into the office and made a phone call. Then he came out and said he had to go out and that he’d phoned Horace – that’s Horace Makepiece – to come round and collect him. He was Joshua’s chauffeur.’
    Angel nodded. He’d heard of him. He was known around as Horace ‘Harelip’ Makepiece. ‘So you and your husband were not really on the very best of terms last night, then?’
    Her eyes flashed, she rapidly sucked in air and her bosom increased four inches.
    â€˜We were fine,’ she said. ‘Just fine.’ Then she pulled her white blouse down an inch at the neckline to show more clearly a necklace comprising twenty or more small carved heart-shaped garnets, each in a delicate old gold setting and connected by pretty leaf motif chain links.
    â€˜See that, Inspector