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

that the whole floor had probably been out when each break-in occurred. It was bound to happen from time to time with only four flats on each floor. Miss Norman would have known when the coast was clear.”
    “Of course,” his wife added as if her conscience troubled her over accusing a neighbour, “Nick would also know who was in or out.”
    “Did either of them come to the meeting?” Swift interposed.
    “Miss Norman did,” replied Mr Brown. “But she didn't say anything.”
    “The poor woman couldn't get a word in,” Mrs Brown explained.
    “Nick wanted to come,” she added suddenly, “but he's not a resident - not a proper resident, anyway. He was quite put out when I said no. He accused me of being a snob.”
    Swift stifled a giggle a trifle noisily, causing Mrs Brown to glance at her inquisitively.
    Even Amos was provoked to smile but he overcame the weakness quickly and started to rise.
    “Thank you Mrs Brown ... Mr Brown,” he remarked graciously. “You have been very helpful. I hope I shall not need to trouble you again but if I do I am sure I can count on your cooperation.”
    “Of course,” replied Mr Brown. “We quite understand. Please don't hesitate to ask if we can help in any way.”
    Amos was deep in thought as the three police officers took their leave.
     

 
     
     
    Chapter 9
     
    Amos had not the slightest objection to seeing Jones's body in the mortuary early next day, even though he knew it had been chopped up and sewn back together again. The mortuary was the proper place for a victim of violent death, not the poor fellow’s own bedroom. There could be no objection to something, however unpleasant, being in its proper place.
    Slater looked up from the cold slab as Amos entered the room. The pathologist was in a better mood. He tended to swing for no particular reason that Amos could divine. Today was a good day.
    "Morning," Slater called out cheerfully. "Now let’s see what I can tell you.
    “Male, fifties. Killed by several blows to the head. Crushed the skull. Didn't stand a chance. Look at the mess," he added, turning over their head to show the left-hand side where the damage had been done.
    "Not a pretty sight. Death instantaneous. The first blow would have been enough. No need to bother with the rest - and there were at least five more direct hits plus several smacks scattered round the body. Look at the bruising.
    "You’ll be pleased to know there's no doubt about the weapon. That iron bar left conveniently by the side of the bed fits the bill nicely. The blows were delivered by just that sort of implement and blood and hair on the bar match Jones perfectly. So at least you don't have to go around looking for a weapon."
    "Time of death?" Amos asked.
    "Some time Friday night."
    “You couldn’t narrow it down a bit?" Amos asked hopefully.
    “Correct," came the reply. "I couldn't."
    Then Slater added as Amos was about to open his mouth: "For heaven’s sake, it was Tuesday before I got a go at the body. The longer after the deed was done, the harder it is to be precise about the time.”
    Seeing the disappointment in Amos's face, Slater relented. "I can help a bit on that, though. From the contents of his stomach I assume he died somewhere around midnight.
    "He'd eaten, I should say, about three hours before he was killed. He seems to have had a fair amount of Scotch as a nightcap - not enough to make him drunk but probably enough to make him sleepy. The chances are that he wouldn't have heard an intruder."
    There was no point in arguing, so Amos said simply: "Anything else?"
    "One or two health matters," Slater volunteered. "Our friend Jones hit the bottle a bit. Not excessively, but his liver was rather enlarged. Also, he was developing a stomach ulcer. Again, nothing serious yet but storing up trouble for later.
    "Well, he would have been if someone hadn't cut him short," Slater commented with a hearty laugh.
    Amos remained stony faced.
    “Rather more serious," the