Angel and the Actress (17 page)

It was 8.28 a.m. when he arrived back at his office the following morning, Tuesday, 11 November.

From his notes, he began to write out a preliminary list of charges against each of the four men who were to be presented in the magistrates’ court later that morning. The list needed to be delivered urgently to the solicitor of the CPS, so when he had completed it, he summoned Ahmed and sent him round to their offices with it.

At 10.45 a.m., the Black Maria was backed up to the rear door of the station and the four men, each handcuffed to a PC, were led into the back of the vehicle for the very short ride two doors away to the court.

Angel walked round to the court. The preliminary hearing was expected to be at 11 a.m. prompt, but it was a few minutes late. As expected, the senior magistrate decreed that it was too serious a case to be heard there, and it would therefore be transferred to the Crown Court. Bail was requested but refused and the defendants were remanded to prison while the CPS and the defence teams prepared their cases.

At 12 noon, Angel returned to his office and was taking off his coat and hat when the phone rang out.

He quickly picked it up and sat down. It was Flora Carter.

‘I’m outside Mr and Mrs Pickles’ shop, sir, in Tunistone. Mrs Pickles looked through our rogues’ gallery and immediately picked out Antonio Fachinno as the man who bought three pickaxes from her a week last Monday.’

Angel smiled. ‘Great stuff, Flora. That will help to bottle them up for the security-van robbery.’

He ended the call and replaced the phone.

He glanced up at the clock. His eyes narrowed. He was anxious to hear from Mac. He hoped and prayed that
the doctor would confirm that the button found in Ian Fairclough’s hand was indeed originally from Antonio Fachinno’s overcoat. He thought that Mac had had plenty of time to make the comparison. He was still reflecting about that when there was a knock at the door.

‘Come in,’ he called.

It was Ahmed. He was carrying a sheet of A4 paper. He handed it to Angel.

‘Email from Ballistics, sir,’ he said. ‘The firing-pin marks on the spent shell cases perfectly match in both instances the examples fired in the laboratory.’

Angel sighed. ‘Good. Great stuff,’ he said, hardly giving the email a glance.

It was at that point the phone rang again.

Angel snatched it up.

His face brightened. ‘Oh, it’s you, Mac,’ he said. ‘I thought you had forgotten. I’ve been waiting for you to phone.’

‘Well, I am here phoning you now,’ the doctor said. ‘I’ve had some analytical processes to go through. It all takes time. I wanted to be incontrovertibly certain that both the button
and
the cotton thread found in the victim’s hand had come from Antonio Fachinno’s overcoat.’

‘And had they?’ Angel said.

‘Aye, they had.’

Angel closed his eyes. He said nothing for a second or two. Then he said, ‘Thank you very much, Mac.’

T
HERE WAS A
cool wind blowing and the sky was dark when the 5.35 p.m. connecting train from Doncaster pulled into the station.

Angel was on the platform checking each carriage door as it passed him, looking for Mary’s smiling face. At last he saw her. His heart warmed. He smiled and rushed towards her. She hadn’t seen him. She was looking round. He followed the train and arrived at the carriage door at the same time the train stopped. She saw him then and both their smiles grew wider. He lifted her off the train, squeezed her, gave her a kiss, then leaned back into the doorway of the train to pick up her suitcase.

‘Oh, darling,’ Angel said. ‘It’s good to see you. Did you have a good trip?’

Mary tucked her arm into his and they walked along the platform. ‘Very good, sweetheart. Have you been all right?’

He smiled and said, ‘No. The house has been like a morgue. How is Miriam?’

‘She’s fine. The op did her good, I think. The doctor and the nurses pampered her and I think being on her own with the kids for so long, the time away from them has done her the world of good.’

He nodded. ‘Are the kids all right?’

‘I think they enjoyed the separation – although it was short – and they wanted it to last longer, but they weren’t a bit of trouble.’

‘Great,’ he said. ‘The car is parked in the little car park just up this rise.’

‘Everything all right at work?’ she said. ‘The super keeping his distance?’

‘Everything’s fine. Just arrested the murderers of Joan Minter and Ian Fairclough.’

‘Been busy, then?’

‘Haven’t had
you
bothering me,’ he said with a smile.

‘I’ll have to go away again … for longer, a month or two … and much farther away.’

‘You dare!’ he said.

Mary laughed.

They reached the BMW.

Ten minutes later, they were home. Once inside they kissed again. Then Angel helped her prepare a meal. She looked into the freezer and found it almost as full as she had left it. She wasn’t pleased.

‘You’ve been eating out, haven’t you,’ she said.

‘Only one night, I think,’ he said. Then he said, ‘Everything needed thawing out.’

‘There was some salad. It was all prepared. You haven’t touched it. Loads of tinned things you could have had. They didn’t need thawing out.’

He looked down and ran three fingers across his forehead. ‘I’ve been all right,’ he said. ‘By the way, where did you
hide
the frying pan?’

‘I didn’t hide it. It’s kept with all the other pans,’ she said, bending down in front of the oven. ‘In this drawer.’

She pulled out a drawer that was below the actual oven, and sure enough, it was bursting with pans of all sizes.

‘I didn’t know it was a drawer. You never told me.’

She looked at him and narrowed her eyes. ‘Besides, what did you want a frying pan for? You know I don’t give you fry-ups. Anyway, Michael, you should have planned ahead. And taken the food out of the freezer a day or two before you wanted it.’

‘I know. I know. I got that out, didn’t I?’ he said, pointing at the joint cooking in the oven.

‘You did, darling, and it’s
great
to be home,’ she said.

He beamed.

They had their meal and she talked a lot about Miriam and the two children, about Edinburgh and how cold it had been up there.

Angel watched the late news on television while Mary cleared away and prepared breakfast, and they went to bed.

Mary didn’t say anything about the mattress, the duvet or the duvet cover. Angel could hardly believe that she hadn’t noticed. They cuddled up close together and he felt very guilty about the deceit of not telling her about the intruders and the gunshots but it would have made her extremely nervous.

‘Isn’t this bed wonderful?’ she said. ‘I’m afraid the bed
I had at Miriam’s was like rocks, but this is so comfortable. Do you know, Michael, I never appreciated just how really luxurious this bed feels. Aren’t we lucky?’

In the darkness, Angel bit his bottom lip. He was uncomfortable at this less than ideal situation, but he could not tell her the truth. He was positive he was doing the right thing.

They fell asleep in each other’s arms and woke up at the sound of the alarm at 7.30 the following morning.

Angel sat on the edge of the bed, scratched his head and shivered. He could feel Mary shuffling behind him. It’s cold,’ he said. ‘Good morning, darling.’

‘Good morning, sweetheart,’ she said. ‘It’s to be expected. Winter is only round the corner.’

He shuffled into the bathroom and went up to the sink. He opened the cupboard over the sink and took out his razor, shaving brush and tube of shaving cream and began his ritual ablutions.

He heard Mary pass the open door on her way downstairs to prepare breakfast.

After a couple of minutes or so, Angel, all lathered up for a shave, shouted downstairs, ‘Mary, there’s no hot water.’

‘Run the tap for a while,’ she said.

‘I have run it. I’ve run it for ages. What’s happened? Have you run it all off or something?’

‘No. I don’t know. It’s switched on. Looks like the boiler has packed in.’

‘Can’t have. Is it switched on?’ he called as he leaned over to check the radiator in the bathroom.

‘Of course it’s switched on,’ Mary said.

‘This radiator is stone cold. The heating must be off too.’

‘What did you do about that letter from the gas board?’ Mary said. ‘The one telling you that if we didn’t replace the boiler soon, it might break down and they probably wouldn’t be able to get the part.’

Angel’s jaw dropped. He scratched his head. He frowned. He didn’t know what to reply. Then he said, ‘What did you say, love?’

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

The Wig Maker

Murder In Bare Feet

Wild About Harry

The Cuckoo Clock Scam

Shrine To Murder

The Snuffbox Murders

The Dog Collar Murders

The Cheshire Cat Murders

The Diamond Rosary Murders

The Big Fiddle

The Fruit Gum Murders

The Money Tree Murders