West of the River. David Dalby

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West of the River - David Dalby


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Camilla.” She said slowly. “What brings you here?”

      “Have a guess.” Said Camilla Ruthven. She was a junior partner with the solicitor’s Ruthven Varney. They were the premiere legal firm in the city. “No…deduce it, Sergeant Vernon. Why would I be here wanting to see the warrants I have no doubt you possess.”

      “You’re Gloria Kelsey’s solicitor?” Hazel said. “Photography pays more than I thought it did.”

      Camilla smiled briefly. “You always were very amusing.” She held a hand out. She wore an expensive looking watch and even more expensive rings. “Warrants, please.”

      “Strictly speaking this is a crime scene. I don’t need any warrant to be here.”

      “If you don’t mind, Sergeant Vernon.” Camilla said.

      Hazel gave a slight shrug and removed several papers from her inner pocket. “You’ll find they are all in order.”

      Camilla nodded, not really taking any notice. She read through the warrants carefully. “Of course they are in order, Sergeant Vernon. I wouldn’t expect anything else of you. Still making the local papers?” She passed the warrants back. “You’ve started your search of the house of course.”

      “Yes. Mrs Kelsey had some odd taste in décor.” A question in Hazel’s mind resolved itself. She’d been wondering who was looking into her activities. Who was behind the Range Rover. Well this explained things. Ruthven Varney in general and Camilla Ruthven in particular, represented Victor Monk, the local underworld figure. Hazel would put a lot of money on Monk lending his people and vehicles to find information for Camilla Ruthven.

      “Well it’s good that my client’s taste isn’t under investigation.” Camilla said.

      “Is she your client?” Hazel said. “Didn’t that end with her being killed?” Certainly any bills she paid would have ended.

      “I represent the family.” Camilla said. “You are standing in my client’s home. My client being Karen Kelsey. Gloria Kelsey’s daughter.”

      “She inherits?” Who inherited was always of interest to the police when a person died in violent circumstances.

      “The house. The photographic studio, though technically that is rented. So it will close down. Karen Kelsey isn’t a photographer. She gets her mother’s car and photographic equipment. Plus the bulk of the estate, less any tax and duties associated with it.”

      “Is it a lot of money?” Hazel said. She turned back to the kitchen. “You can tell me while I ransack the place.”

      “Very amusing, Sergeant Vernon. As it turns out Gloria was a successful businesswoman. The estate, all told, was worth a little over two million euros.”

      Hazel said, “You’re kidding”

      “Of course I am. I always make fatuous jokes about murdered clients. It amuses me no end.”

      “Two million? From taking pictures?” Hazel looked over the kitchen. Gloria had gone in for modern, easy cooking systems. Halogen oven. Induction hob. Airfryer.

      “We’re not talking about holiday snaps, Sergeant Vernon. Nor cheap paparazzi images I might add.”

      “Two million though.” Hazel opened a cupboard. A small but nice selection of cups and plates. Quite a bit of silicon bake ware.

      “Mrs Kelsey had several high value advertising contracts.” Camilla said.

      “She didn’t have the Ruthven Varney contract did she?”

      “We don’t really advertise, sergeant. We have plenty of clients as it is. No, Mrs Kelsey produced advertising for the Federal Party.”

      “The government?”

      “The local party, Sergeant Vernon. Though I believe some of her work was used on a national level.”

      The refrigerator was well stocked. Though Hazel doubted if the fruit and veg would be good for a lot longer. “She was politically minded then?”

      “I think she had some sympathy for the government.” Camilla said.

      “That’s more than some of us have.” Hazel said. “Is Karen her only family?”

      “She’s Mrs Kelsey’s only closest family. She did have an older brother, but he died some years ago. She has the usual nephews and nieces and cousins and so on, but I don’t believe she had much to do with them.”

      The kitchen hadn’t much else to give up. Hazel walked through an alcove to the adjoining dining area.

      “How about Mr Kelsey?” Hazel said.

      “Last seen heading south with his secretary…..or receptionist…or someone. He hasn’t been involved in Mrs Kelsey’s life for…oh…many years.”

      “He doesn’t get a mention in her will?”

      “If he did he wouldn’t like what she had to say.” Camilla said. She stood in the alcove and watched Hazel search. “There’s not really much to look for in here.”

      “I can see that.” Hazel said. The table could be extended, but was folded down. The chairs were comfortable. Nice cutlery. Again very modern. In keeping with the house. Hazel picked up the salt dispenser and pressed the top. It whirred a small amount of crushed rock salt into her hand. Hazel carefully tasted it.

      “It’s only salt, Sergeant Vernon.”

      “Let’s try upstairs.” Hazel said.

      “Certainly. Is there anything else you’d like to know?”

      “Hannah McShane.” Hazel said.

      “Yes?” Camilla said neutrally and followed Hazel up the stairs.

      “Did you know her?”

      “I can honestly say I never knew she existed before she made the newspapers.” Camilla said.

      “Your firm never represented her at any time?”

      “I understand someone from your solicitors represented her.” Camilla said. “I doubt if Hannah McShane could afford our consulting fees.”

      Hazel opened the nearest door. She stepped into the main bedroom.

      “Do you think she did it?”

      “I think she was found to be innocent.” Camilla stayed out of the room. “Are you short of suspects, Sergeant Vernon?”

      Hazel was more short of reliable witnesses. The bed was made. She pressed the mattress and felt no springs. Gloria preferred foam mattresses to sprung ones. Again this was all in keeping with a modern home. There was a lamp on the bedside table. Hazel flicked it on, then off. The radio alarm clock was as basic and functional as any she’d ever seen.

      “Feel a need to watch the clock, Sergeant Vernon?” Camilla said. She leaned against the wall and looked amused.

      Hazel ignored her and opened up the bedside table’s cabinet door. She took out the items inside. A water bottle. Indigestion tablets. A box of condoms. She held the final item up.

      Camilla raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to tag that for evidence? I’m sure it will amuse everyone down at the police station.”

      Hazel unscrewed the base and dropped the batteries out.

      “You seem very skilled with that.” Camilla said. “It’s a woman’s bedroom. What did you expect to find?”

      “She clearly had at least one person in her life.” Hazel said. She tapped the condoms with the plastic head of the dildo.

      “I should hope she did.” Camilla said.

      “Who?”

      “How would I know?” Camilla said pleasantly.

      “So


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