Dead Money (A Detective Inspector Paul Amos Lincolnshire Mystery) Read Online Free PDF Page A

Jones even though we lived directly opposite. We spoke, of course, and were on civil terms but no more than that.
    “I'm afraid we don't go out much as it's a bit more of an effort these days, what with my knees and Mr Brown's back. We didn't see anyone at all over the weekend.”
    Despite her protested lack of information, Mrs Brown was in full flood.
    “Mr Brown was an auctioneer on market days in three of the villages round about. But we were town types ourselves and bought this place when Mr Brown retired and sold the business. We came here for the formation dancing and the bridge club. But we don't get out as much as we used to. I've a touch of arthritis in my knee and Mr Brown's back plays up from all the boxes of agricultural produce he used to hump around on auction days.”
    Amos shifted in his chair and looking inquiringly at the constable to ask: “What on earth is so fascinating about this couple?”
    The young officer looked embarrassed and nipped in quickly before Mrs Brown could launch into further irrelevance.
    “Mrs Brown, please tell Inspector Amos about the keys.”
    “Oh that,” said Mrs Brown, slightly deflated. “But that had nothing to do with Mr Jones. He was far too successful to resort to petty thieving. The amounts involved were never much.”
    “The amounts of what?” Amos asked, his interest stirred.
    “The things that went missing. You know, cash and ornaments and trinkets and the like. We changed our lock and we were all right after that.”
    Fred Brown cut in: “Let me explain, dear. I'm afraid you've jumped around a bit.
    “Inspector, we moved in two years ago with the first batch of residents. We could afford to buy outright with the proceeds of the sale of my business. Then we sold our existing house and invested the money to pay the maintenance charges here and supplement our pensions. We live, as you can see, quite comfortably but not outlandishly.”
    Amos nodded.  Brown had paused to check that the officer wanted him to continue in this vein.
    As Mrs Brown made to fill the gap, Amos hastily intervened: “Go on, Mr Brown. I’m with you.”
    Brown picked up his tale: “Within six months the place was full and so far no-one has left. Well, it's early days yet. Anyway, almost from the start we suspected things were going missing. At first we thought odd items had been mislaid in the move.”
    He chuckled. “We started teasing each other that we were putting things in the wrong place and then forgetting what we had done with them. We put it down to old age.
    “We keep some cash in the top drawer of the sideboard. Sometimes there wasn't as much there as we thought there should be. Again, we each assumed that the other had taken a bit out. But it did seem strange, as we generally go out together since I retired. So there was no reason for one of us to take any cash unless we were both there.
    “We didn't see a lot of the other flat owners so it was a few weeks before we started to realise that the same thing had happened to other people. One day when we went out Mr Jones and Mr Warren were having a - shall we say heated - discussion in the common area in front of the lifts.
    “You've probably seen that each laundry area faces the laundry of a flat opposite. Well, Mr Jones accused Mr Warren of getting across into his laundry and removing some antique porcelain. He collected it, you see - in fact he started at one of my auctions.
    “Mr Warren said Mr Jones had so many pieces that he didn't know where he had put them.
    “Mr Jones said Mr Warren had some planks stacked in his laundry area and could easily have laid them across the gap and climbed over. Mr Warren was redecorating his flat right through and said the people who worked for the property company had no taste. The planks belonged to the decorators.
    “Mr Jones was right about that because we saw the men carrying in trestles and planks to stand on to reach the ceilings more easily. The whole thing would have been