The Wigmaker Read online

‘He murdered two people and attempted a third.’

  ‘Be careful. The plate’s hot. And it’s my auction tonight, you know.’

  ‘He came quietly though, after an initial show of outrage and innocence. He’s not a nice man. He should get twenty years minimum.’

  ‘Don’t cover it in salt, Michael. It’s bad for your heart!’

  ‘You see, it was all a matter of DNA. It was very clever of him.’

  ‘He said he would put it up early, before the punters had spent up. Better chance of getting a good price.’

  ‘He might have got away with it, on a technicality.’

  ‘I thought that was very good of him. I told him to make the point that even though it wasn’t in the best condition, it was by Chippendale.’

  ‘I’m not going to be too popular with the chief constable. He was a friend of Chancey. In the Masons, I think. Went drinking together.’

  ‘There’s strawberries and ice cream to follow. At least that wasn’t ruined. I’ll fetch the ice cream. It will be softening.’

  ‘Of course, it’ll be an embarrassment to Harker.’ Angel grinned. ‘He always does exactly what the chief tells him to do, regardless. He hasn’t the guts to stand up to him.’

  ‘So his wife, Edna Williamson said she’d ring me and let me know what it’d fetched when she got a moment. She does the money side of it. Records the bids, takes in the money, knocks off their percentage and pays out when the auction is over. Is that enough ice cream? She should be ringing any time now.’

  ‘The job would be all right if it wasn’t for Harker.’

  ‘I’ve sweetened them, love. I don’t think you’ll want any more sugar.’

  The phone rang.

  Mary stiffened. She stood up. Her face looked like the condemned woman going to the scaffold.

  ‘Who’s that ringing at this time?’ Angel said.

  ‘It’s all right. It’ll be for me.’

  She went out of the room in a trance. She picked up the phone tentatively.

  Angel was enjoying the fish pie, if that was what it was. Although it was a bit dry. A knob of butter would be nice.

  He strained to hear whether the call was for him. He hoped there wasn’t any difficulty at the station that might need his attention. It was a quarter past eight and he didn’t want to turn out. He reckoned it must have been for Mary or she would have come back or called him. He suddenly heard a little scream, then she said something very loudly; she was excited or distressed.

  He put down his knife and fork, and looked at the hall door. He couldn’t make out what was happening. There were a few more exchanges, then she replaced the phone. She didn’t come into the room immediately. Angel was curious to know what was happening.

  Eventually she came through with a forced smile on her face.

  He knew her better than anybody. Something unusual had happened. But he didn’t understand.

  ‘What was that all about?’ he said.

  Mary’s eyes were strange. She looked as if she was in another world. She didn’t reply.

  ‘Who was that?’ he said. ‘What’s happened?’

  Eventually, in a monotone, she said: ‘The auctioneer put up the table, my Chippendale table, and he didn’t get a bid. Not a single bid. He tried to get it started, but it was no good. I don’t believe it.’

  Angel wrinkled his nose but said nothing. He’d known it was rubbish when he first saw it at Seymour Timms’s ramshackle place. He had written the £500 off the moment he saw the damned thing.

  ‘But he put up the old books separately,’ she continued, ‘and one of the books was Aesop’s Fables, an early edition with handpainted illustrated plates. There were two dealers in and, to cut a long story short, it was sold for six thousand pounds.’

  Angel swallowed. ‘How much?’ he spluttered.

  By the Same Author

  IN THE MIDST OF LIFE

  CHOKER

  THE MAN IN THE PINK SUIT

  THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING HONEST

  MANTRAP

  SALAMANDER

  SHAM

  THE UMBRELLA MAN

  THE MAN WHO COULDN’T LOSE

  THE CURIOUS MIND OF INSPECTOR ANGEL

  FIND THE LADY

  Copyright

  © Roger Silverwood 2008

  First published in Great Britain 2008

  This edition 2012

  ISBN 978 0 7198 0771 8 (epub)

  ISBN 978 0 7198 0772 5 (mobi)

  ISBN 978 0 7198 0773 2 (pdf)

  ISBN 978 0 7090 8526 3 (print)

  Robert Hale Limited

  Clerkenwell House

  Clerkenwell Green

  London EC1R 0HT

  www.halebooks.com

  The right of Roger Silverwood to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988