IMPURITY by Ray Clark (which ebook reader txt) 📕

for a fringe of hair over his ears. He wore thin, wire-framed spectacles over a small snub nose. His moist lips were thick. He was dressed in a charcoal grey pinstripe suit with a white shirt and grey tie.

Summers chose to sit at his desk. Before speaking, he lit a cigar. “Now, what can I do for you?” he asked with a condescending air.

Gardener studied the agent’s gold cufflinks with matching Rolex watch before answering.

“I’m DI Gardener. This is my partner, DS Reilly. We’re investigating the death of a man we understand worked for you.”

“And it was so urgent you couldn’t wait till normal working hours?”

“I’m not fortunate enough to work normal hours, Mr Summers.”

“Quite. So, who is it?”

Gardener was not impressed by Summers’ brusque manner. He felt as if he was merely being tolerated. Reilly produced his pad and pen and started making notes as Gardener replied.

“Bernard Thornwell. He was found murdered yesterday. We have reason to believe he worked for you.”

Summers inhaled deeply on the cigar, billowing smoke above his head. “He did, and he didn’t.”

Gardener could see he was going to have trouble with Summers. He’d had a gutful of that already today. “Which means what?”

“He did, but only on a part-time basis.”

“What exactly do you do? I have a card here that says you’re an entertainment agent.”

“Yes.” Summers puffed on the cigar. “Entertainment agent is only a part of it. I do employ people to work as clowns and Father Christmas for children, but I also run a casting agency for adults, and I’m actively involved with a film production company.”

“What sort of films?”

“Travel documentaries. I have contacts abroad. My company promotes the travel industry in Britain.”

“So, Bernard Thornwell, what can you tell me about him?”

“Nothing much. Worked for me as a Santa Claus in various department stores. On a number of occasions he attended children’s parties as a clown.”

“When did you last see him?”

“A couple of weeks ago, I think. I don’t really remember, Mr Gardener. I’m a busy man.” Summers started to inspect his nails, as though bored.

“Had he worked for you in the last two weeks?” asked Gardener.

Summers glanced at his watch impatiently. “Yes. I believe he was covering the Debenhams department store in the city.”

“You believe? You either know or you don’t.”

Summers smirked, irritating Gardener further. “Mr Gardener, I can’t mentally keep track of everyone. I would have records, however.”

“In that case, go and get them.” It was an order, not a request. Summers rose and left the study without a word.

“I don’t like him,” Gardener said to his partner.

“I’m none too keen on him myself.”

The study door opened. Summers came back in with a number of books and ledgers.

“Here we are, gentlemen.” He placed them on the desk and sat back in his chair.

“I’m taking these with me, Mr Summers. Is there anything else you’d like to tell me about Bernard Thornwell?”

“Not really. He was someone who worked for me on various occasions. We certainly didn’t socialize. A pleasant enough chap, did a good job, punctual.”

“Did you ever have any problems with him?”

“What sort of problems?”

“Anything. Did he ever turn up for work drunk? Did he have money problems?”

“Nothing I can recall.”

Gardener put the books to one side and fixed him with a steely gaze. “It would appear that Bernard Thornwell had a colleague with whom he socialized. One Herbert Plum, who also died under mysterious circumstances. Did he work for you as well?”

The change in the agent’s manner was only slight, but it was enough for Gardener. “Yes, Mr Gardener, he did.”

“Did they use their own names when they worked for you?”

“Yes.”

Summers had not taken a drag on his cigar but continued to hold it. The ash was growing in length.

“Did Plum also work on a part-time basis?”

“Yes. Where are you going with this, Mr Gardener?”

“For a man who’s lost two of his employees recently, you don’t seem overly concerned,” commented Reilly.

“As you said, Mr Reilly, they were colleagues, not relatives.”

“All the same, I’d be asking myself a number of questions. Like who’s next? Have I done anything to upset anyone? Do you know what I mean?”

“I know exactly what you mean. If you’re looking for me to do your job by providing you with suspects, then I’m afraid you’re wasting your time, gentlemen. I pay my taxes, which pays your wages, so I suggest you look a little harder somewhere else.” Summers stood up. “Now, if you’ve quite finished…”

“We haven’t,” Gardener said, sternly. On the outside, Summers was cool, but underneath, he was concerned. Gardener wanted to know why. “Two people who work for you are dead. And I’d like to know a damned sight more than you’ve given us. Who else do you employ in the same line of work?”

“Who is your superior, Mr Gardener?”

“Detective Chief Inspector Briggs, why do you ask?”

“Because I don’t like your attitude.”

“Feel free to complain any time you like, Mr Summers. However, I’m conducting a serious investigation, which I intend to solve. Everything I’m doing is within the law. Until I’ve finished, you will help with that investigation. Now, Bernard Thornwell and Herbert Plum. Are you aware of any of their associates? Do you have anyone else on your books in the same line of work?”

Summers sat back down, finally taking a drag on his cigar. “No.”

“So, you run an entertainment agency which seems to specialize in providing amusement for the wee children, yet you only have two clowns who double up as Father Christmas. Sort of leaves you in a spot of trouble, wouldn’t you say?” Reilly fixed his glare on Summers as he spoke.

“Not at all, Officer Reilly. If I were to rely solely on clowns and Christmas