Death Line

CHAPTER TWO-1

CHAPTER TWO

There were two other doors off the landing, and Rafferty asked where they led. Astell placed his gloved hands together in the precise manner that was already getting on Rafferty's nerves and nodded towards the first of the doors on the left. 'This office is used by one of our staff, Mrs Virginia Campbell. The other one is used as a storeroom for any overflow of stock from the shop.' He opened each of the doors in turn. The second room contained books and fancily packaged bottles of oil, CD's, records and cassettes, all stacked on wall shelves, along with many other items. An old easel, stained and shoved just inside the door, was balanced precariously against the wall and Astell straightened it with a gesture of annoyance. 'I must throw this old thing away. I don't know why Jasper insisted on keeping it.'

'Not yet, please,' Rafferty cautioned. 'I don't want anything discarded until the case is concluded.'

Astell nodded and went on. 'As you know, the room between my office and Jasper's is used as a waiting room.'

'Do you employ a receptionist?'

'No. The nature of the work hardly warrants it. Mrs Mercedes Moreno, the woman we employ in the shop, directs our clients to the waiting room. She's from South America,' Astell explained the unusual name. 'Peru.'

'And they're the only other people that work here?'

Astell nodded. 'Apart from Mrs Hadleigh, the cleaner. She comes in at about 7.00 every morning.'

Rafferty frowned. 'I understood that you found the body when you came in at 7.30 a m. Or did you only make the call?'

'No. I found him. I had an early booking with one of my few regulars - she likes to see me on her way to the station. Mrs Hadleigh had a hospital appointment yesterday morning so I agreed she could do her chores in the evening, from 5.00 to 7.00 p m. My wife and I had a few guests last night and Mrs Hadleigh came over afterwards to help out. Unfortunately, she was only there a short time before she began to feel unwell. I sent her home just before 8.00 p m. Naturally, I told her not to bother coming in this morning. I tried to ring Jasper last night to tell him that if he made his usual mess he'd have to clean it up himself. He can - could be rather untidy.'

'You say you tried to ring Mr Moon? At what time?'

Astell nodded. 'I'm sorry. I suppose I should have mentioned it before. I didn't get through. The first few times I tried, Jasper's phone was engaged, and then, when it did ring, no-one answered.' His eyes widened, aghast at the implication of what he'd just said. 'God, I never thought...so many things going round and round in my mind. I suppose he must have died around then. How - horrible.'

'What time would this have been, sir?' Rafferty asked again.

'What?' Although still obviously stunned, Astell managed to pull himself together sufficiently to answer Rafferty's question. 'It was at 8.20 p m. That's right. I'd just made Mrs Moreno a cup of coffee - she had forgotten her gloves and returned about ten minutes earlier. I remember as the clock in the hall had just rung the quarter chime - it tends to be five minutes slow.' Rafferty made a mental note of the time. As Astell had surmised, it could be important. Whether Moon's killer had called someone from his office, or whether the phone had just become dislodged from its rest during the attack and the killer had replaced it, the phone company should be able to tell them.

Astell, his voice slow and disjointed after this latest shock, explained, 'I didn't want-want his first client to turn up and encounter Jas-Jasper's usual shambles, you see.' He broke off and after glancing at his watch, said in a more normal voice, 'It hardly matters now, does it? Still, I suppose I should ring and put them off? Though what I can possibly say to them...'

'Don't worry about that, sir. One of my officers will contact them.' Rafferty nodded to Llewellyn, who disappeared. 'You mentioned you had a client this morning. Did you ask her to leave when you found the body?'

Astell shook his head and looked cross with himself. 'Sorry. No. Didn't I explain? She rang to cancel, so I decided I might as well get on with some work. It was then that I found Jasper's body. I needed some stamps - as you saw, they're kept in the cashbox.'

After obtaining this client's name and address, Rafferty went on, 'You said Mrs Hadleigh would have finished cleaning at about 7.00 p m yesterday?'

'That's right. She usually did a full two hours. One hour on the consulting floor and the other in the shop.'

'And how long has she worked here?'

'Only about three weeks, but I've known her for some years. As well as helping out when we entertain, my wife and I employ her to clean our home. When our last cleaner left I offered her this job. I knew she needed the money, you see. She was pleased to accept.'

Rafferty glanced at his watch, and was surprised to find that it was nearly 9.15 a m. 'What time do your other employees normally arrive?'

'The shop doesn't open until till 9.30 a m, so Mrs Moreno doesn't arrive till then, but Mrs Campbell starts at nine.'

Virginia Campbell should have arrived by now. So where was she? Rafferty wondered. 'Has she perhaps got a day off today?'

‘No.’ Astell frowned. 'At least, if she has, I was unaware of it. She was off yesterday. Jasper might have agreed to her having today off as well. He didn't always remember to tell me if it was a last minute thing.'

'I'll need her phone number, sir. If she is coming in today and hasn't already left home, it would be best if she didn't come in at all. The forensic team will be working here for some time yet.'

'Of course. You can use the telephone in my office.'

Rafferty followed him back along the short corridor, and through the comfortable anteroom. Like Moon's office, this too had a television and video, presumably for amusing waiting clients. This television was undamaged. 'I gather Mrs Campbell's a professional astrologer?'

'That's right. She and her husband had their own astrology consultancy, but their business folded when they divorced. She brought a few clients with her when she joined us, but she mainly helps me on the postal side. She also covers in the shop when Mrs Moreno is at lunch or has a day off.'

'And Mrs Moreno? Tell me about her.'

'Mrs Moreno's a widow. She just works in the shop and has nothing to do with the main work of the consultancy.'

'Have Mrs Moreno and Mrs Campbell worked here long?'

'No. I've worked with Jasper for five years, three as a business manager and two as a partner, but it's only in the last twelve months that the postal side has really increased. We took Mrs Campbell on a year ago, and Mrs Moreno six months later when we were able to take over the lease downstairs.'

After Llewellyn had returned and confirmed that Moon's appointments had all been cancelled, Rafferty got him to phone Virginia Campbell and Mrs Moreno. There was no answer from Mrs Moreno's and Llewellyn quietly advised Rafferty that he'd tried Mrs Campbell's phone, but had just got the unobtainable signal. When he'd contacted the phone company, they'd told him her phone had been disconnected.

Rafferty raised his eyebrows and quietly commented, 'Let's hope she's not done a flit. Get someone round there quickly to check it out, Llewellyn.' Frowning, he turned back to Astell. 'I wouldn't have thought there would be much of a market in Elmhurst for New Age trinkets, sir.'

'There isn't. We sell mainly by mail order.' Astell opened a drawer and handed a glossy catalogue to Rafferty. 'I thought it would be a good idea to give our regular clients the opportunity to browse at their leisure, and Jasper agreed we should test the market.' Rafferty could see that a few browsing pop millionaires could be good for business. 'Growing numbers of people are looking for alternative ways to improve their lives, and some of the lines are very popular.'

Five minutes later, Appleby popped his head round Astell's office door. 'Inspector. Can I have a word?'

Rafferty excused himself. Llewellyn had returned and he and Rafferty followed Appleby back to Moon's office. He led them over to the wall behind the desk, careful to avoid the chalk marks outlining where Moon's body had so recently lain. There were some bright green daubs on the wall. It was blood, Rafferty knew, though looking more Martian than human. The colour was just an idiosyncrasy of one particular chemical. Another turned blood to the most delightful pink.

'These marks showed up by the victim's head when I tried the orthotolidine test,' Appleby told them. 'They're not very clear, I'm afraid. Looks like somebody tried to wash them off. Any ideas?'

Rafferty couldn't make much of them and said so. 'What do you make of them?' he asked Appleby.

'They were definitely drawn rather than splashed, and drawn by the dead man, most likely. I noticed his right index finger was blood-stained.'

Llewellyn hunkered down beside them and studied the marks for a few moments before he ventured a more considered suggestion. 'Could be an attempt at a name. Ian, say, or Isaac and Moon never got beyond the first letter.' Llewellyn pointed. 'See? The first 'I' is fairly weak. The second is a better attempt.'

Rafferty contradicted him. 'I doubt it's a name. If it was, and it meant anything significant, Moon's killer would only have needed to pick up Moon's finger and alter the lettering, to a 'J' for John,' he glanced slyly at Llewellyn. 'Or 'L' for-'

Llewellyn didn't give him a chance to go on. 'The murderer seems to have considered the marks important enough to have made an attempt to get rid of them.'

'Probably just rattled by the sight of the bright blood on the white wall. Even killers can have weak stomachs, you know. Moon had just been hit on the head. I doubt his brain was functioning sufficiently to write anything meaningful.' He stood up, pulling rank and closing the discussion and his workaholic Catholic conscience immediately began to berate him. Do you have to be so childish, Rafferty? it asked him. Yes, he snapped silently back. I do. Why don't you mind your own bloody business?

The trouble was that Llewellyn could be such an all-fired know-all. And he was so often right in his deductions and Rafferty so often wrong, that he frequently got on Rafferty's nerves. Still, Rafferty's conscious managed another rebuke. You could try being a little more grown up about it.

Although, most of the time, and somewhat to Rafferty's surprise, he and Llewellyn got on pretty well, there were still occasions, like at the beginning of another investigation, for instance, when he was prone to over-reaction. Too aware of the fact that, beside Llewellyn, he was over-emotional, impetuous and only half-educated, one part of him wanted to put Llewellyn down even while the other, more sensible part of him acknowledged his reaction was childish. Defensively, he reminded himself that, although Llewellyn might have more education and brain-power he had yet to solve a case, and immediately felt better. 'Maybe you're right. Look into it,' he now magnanimously invited Llewellyn. 'See how many people with names beginning with 'I' Moon knew.'

Llewellyn gave a stiff nod in acknowledgement. Personally, Rafferty doubted there'd be any such acquaintances. Or, if there were, there'd be none who'd had the opportunity to murder Moon.

'Seeing as you've spurned the first of my clues,' Appleby broke in. 'How about taking a look at the second? You'll like this one,' he promised. 'There are several nice bloody fingerprints on the outside of the window sill. Definitely not the dead man's. Fraser's taken an impression of them.'

Rafferty waved another olive branch at Llewellyn's poker-face. 'That sounds more like it, hey, Dafyd? Something to get your teeth into.'

'If you say so, sir,' Llewellyn replied woodenly.

Irritated all over again, Rafferty opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, a sudden commotion from the stairway stopped him.