The Fruit Gum Murders Read Online Free PDF Page A

skipped down the steps of Bromersley Police Station, swinging three box files tied together with string. He was intent on delivering them to the Criminal Prosecution Service, only twenty metres away, two doors down Church Street. He saw the polished brass sign, walked up the path, pushed open the outside door and walked up to the tiny reception desk. He was almost at the exciting noisy part, almost at the end, where the cannons are fired, when he stopped short. His jaw dropped and his eyebrows shot up. Curiously, there was nobody behind the desk. It had usually been manned by a very plump young woman with glasses, called Tina, but this morning it was deserted. She was nowhere to be seen. He looked around. It was like the Marie Celeste.
    Then he heard the hubbub of a crowd of people talking and the occasional clink of a glass. It came from the first door on his right. It sounded extraordinarily jovial and highly improbable coming from offices of the CPS in the middle of a working day. He pursed his lips, then approached the door and knocked on it. The hubbub continued unabated, and there was no reply. He knocked again, much harder. It was still ignored. He opened the door, looked into the office and saw between twenty and thirty men and women, mostly holding champagne flutes, standing around in small groups in the middle of the room, talking and laughing. The desks and chairs had been pushed to the sides of the room and were piled up to make room.
    As he was taking in the scene, Mr Marcus Twelvetrees, father of Stewart, pulled him in to the room by his lapel and said, ‘Michael. Come in and join us.’
    Twelvetrees turned to a young man who was passing with a tray full of glasses. He grabbed two off the tray, pushed one into Angel’s hand and held the other up towards the ceiling light. ‘Cheers,’ he said, and took a sip.
    Angel said, ‘Cheers,’ and copied him, then he said, ‘What are we celebrating?’
    â€˜Oh? You won’t have heard,’ Twelvetrees said. ‘Juliet Gregg has been offered a partnership in the Osbourne chambers. She is only twenty-eight, you know.’
    Angel was impressed. ‘Very good,’ he said. It was all he could manage to think of to say. He knew it would have sounded rather weak.
    Twelvetrees said, ‘It’s fantastic! She’ll be fast tracked to be a judge, if I’m not very much mistaken.’
    â€˜Yes. I must … wish her well,’ he said.
    Angel knew Juliet Gregg. She was a high-flying young barrister, who was a beautiful brunette with an hour-glass figure, who didn’t seem to need any make-up. Lately, she had assisted Twelvetrees in the Crown Court, prosecuting in some of Angel’s cases. He thought that she was a quiet, thoughtful woman who only came alive when she was in the body of a packed courtroom. He had great respect for her apparent success at such a young age.
    The string on the three files was pulling at his fingers. It reminded him of what he was doing there.
    â€˜I’ve come round to bring you the case notes for the O’Riley murder,’ he said, holding up the files held by the string.
    Twelvetrees’ face muscles tightened. ‘Not just now, Michael,’ he said. ‘Not just now.’
    Angel didn’t reply.
    â€˜There’s some food over there,’ Twelvetrees said, pointing over the heads of the throng. ‘Do help yourself.’
    â€˜Thank you,’ Angel said, but he wasn’t the slightest bit interested in food.
    â€˜Excuse me, Michael,’ Twelvetrees said, then he turned away and was promptly absorbed into the homogenous gathering of heads, all simultaneously nodding, smiling and talking.
    Angel wanted to leave the files he had brought with someone responsible, then get out of the building and back to his office as soon as he could. He eased his way around the chattering groups, looking for someone he knew. Then suddenly, unexpectedly, he came face to