The Curious Mind of Inspector Angel (17 page)

‘The only girl I can think of is the one who dropped the candle-snuffer while coming over Mace’s garden wall.’

‘Yes, sir. Slim, black hair, boys’ socks.’

‘That’s her. Who the hell is she?’

Thirty-five minutes later, their driver pulled into the car park at Leeds/Bradford airport. Angel and Gawber showed their ID and found themselves in the departure lounge. They scanned it quickly, but there was no sign of Schuster with or without a young woman. They went up to the departure gate, showed their ID to airport police and after some argument and questioning they were allowed through. They rushed out onto the tarmac. There were two planes loading passengers. Short queues of people were dribbling slowly across the tarmac onto the steps to the planes. He wondered if they were too late.

Suddenly, Angel spotted a dapper little man with a beautiful dark-haired girl on his arm crossing the short distance to the bottom step of a plane.

His heart leapt. His pulse raced. ‘They are there, Ron,’ Angel said, ‘I’ll take Schuster. You take the girl, Flavia Radowitz!’

‘Just thought you’d like to know that the BDU arrived about an hour ago and are dealing with the UXB at the mill, sir,’ Ahmed said as he placed the cup of tea on the desk in front of him.

Angel frowned. ‘What’s the BDU? Have you started making these shorthand initial letters up yourself now?’

‘No sir,’ he said, looking surprised. ‘Bomb Disposal Unit.’

Angel grinned. ‘All right, Ahmed. Thank you.’

Gawber knocked and came in. Ahmed went out and closed the door.

‘At a rough estimate, sir,’ Gawber began, ‘there’s £80,000 worth of old gold, antique jewellery, Georgian silver and ivory bits and pieces in David Schuster’s suitcases. He says it’s all been acquired honestly through twenty-two years trading in his shop.’

Angel nodded and said, ‘I’m inclined to believe that much.’

‘He could have set himself up very well indeed with Flavia Radowitz in Rio de Janiero.’

Angel took a sip of the tea. ‘If she didn’t take it off him first,’ he grinned over the top of the cup.

Gawber smiled. ‘You knew it was her, didn’t you, sir?’

‘I
thought
it was. I couldn’t understand why a girl would want to wear boys’ socks, then it came to me. It was a way to cover that big tattoo on her ankle. A tattoo of a tarantula that size, in that place, would have identified her in a flash.’

Gawber nodded. ‘Of course.’

The phone rang. He reached out for it. ‘Angel.’

It was Harker. ‘You’d better come up here. I’ve got some news for you.’

Angel wrinkled his nose. Now what? ‘Right, sir.’ Angel dashed up the corridor, knocked on his door and went in.

‘Aye, come in. Sit down, Michael.’

Angel blinked. The honey monster was being nice. He called him by his first name. There must be a catch somewhere. He knew to be wary.

‘Yes, sir?’

‘Ah yes,’ Harker said, rubbing his bony hands together like an undertaker at a meeting of the nonagenarian society. ‘I’ve had a phone call from Lord Truscott.’

Angel pursed his lips. He couldn’t quite recall the name. He was certain he hadn’t met him. He raised his eyebrows. ‘Oh yes, sir,’ he said, to keep the story going.

‘Most thankful he was. He’s sending you a cheque, he says. A reward, he said, for finding two most valuable paintings of his.’

Angel remembered. Matthew Elliott had mentioned him. The naked ladies with the fat backsides. His face brightened. ‘Very good of him, sir.’

‘Yes,’ the monster said. ‘For £3000.’

Angel’s face glowed. ‘£3000!’

‘Of course, I thanked him profusely on your behalf, and had to explain to him, as I know you would have done, that members of the force cannot accept personal reward for doing what, after all, is their duty, and that you would, of course, donate it to the Bromersley Police Charity.’

Angel wrinkled his nose. He was desperately thinking of some reason why an exception might be made to negate the rule in this case, but he couldn’t actually think of anything.

‘So, Michael, when you get the cheque, pay it into your account and then make a cheque out to Bromersley Police Charity for £2,800 and everybody will be satisfied, won’t they?’

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