IMPURITY by Ray Clark (which ebook reader txt) 📕

Malcolm smiled, relieved that it wasn’t a problem. “Is that all? I’m happy for you, Anei. I think you should go. You and Jacqueline will have a wonderful time.”

“Thank you.” Anei smiled, not only with her lips, but with her eyes as well.

“And I’ll be waiting for you when you return, you can tell me all about it.” He kissed her lightly on the cheek.

“You are a kind man, Malcolm Gardener. I’m going to miss you.”

Malcolm laughed. He didn’t know what to say.

“But tonight, we will celebrate. Where’s the wine?”

Chapter Forty-three

Olive Bradshaw’s hardened expression reminded Gardener of a gargoyle. Her features then softened as she entered the denial stage. “Pornography? No. I’m sorry, Inspector, but I think you have the wrong man.”

Since Gardener’s last visit, the landlady’s living accommodation had been stripped bare. He’d been surprised to learn that contracts had been exchanged, and she and her sister had packed everything into boxes ready for moving. Gardener stood with his back to the window, amused by her indignant repudiation. “I have not got the wrong man. I’ve done my homework. I believe that Herbert Plum was a paedophile.”

“Well, I’m sorry, Inspector, but you’ve obviously made a mistake. Hasn’t he, Mabel?” She glanced at her sister. Mabel nodded, seemingly unsure what to say.

“No mistake. During the search of his flat, we discovered pornographic material.”

“How do you know it was his?” retorted the landlady, her arms folded defensively.

“Was it yours?” asked Reilly.

The landlady scowled. “It most certainly was not.”

“Then it must be his,” said Gardener. “We also found a sex drug called Papaverine, which could suggest he led a very active sex life. That would contradict your story of him having very little contact with the outside world. Have you any further comment to make?”

“Why should I? I’m not his keeper,” she retorted.

Gardener stepped over to the table and leaned in close. He’d given her every chance. “No, you were a little closer than that, weren’t you? You were his lover, isn’t that right, Olive?”

She almost jumped out of her chair. “Who told you that?”

“You’re not denying it, then?”

“I... I...”

“Everything we found in his room, and the information we’ve since gathered, point to him being involved with someone. I’d rather it was you than two missing schoolgirls.”

Olive Bradshaw dropped her hands in resignation, her eyes watering. She fished her handkerchief out from the sleeve of her cardigan and blew her nose. “I’m sorry, Mabel.” Her voice was barely audible. “Please, don’t be angry with me.”

Mabel stood up, wrapped her arms around her sister. “Don’t upset yourself, Olive. I’m not angry, but I am disappointed that you couldn’t have told me.”

“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings. We’ve always been close.”

Gardener was confused. Today she appeared concerned for the deceased. The night of his murder she was only worried about the cleaning bill. “So, you were having a relationship?” he asked.

Olive Bradshaw merely nodded. Although she had helped to solve one mystery, a number still remained. Plum’s connection with Warthead for one. Gardener withdrew the artist impression from his inside pocket.

“Do you recognize the man in the photo-fit?”

She made an effort to study it before replying, “No.” She passed it over to her sister.

“Oh, the poor man, I’d know if I’d seen him before.”

“What do you want him for, Inspector?” asked Olive Bradshaw.

“We think he may have abducted the missing schoolchildren. But he was also seen with Herbert Plum on a number of occasions in the pub.”

“Oh, surely not.” She covered her mouth with her hand. “I can’t believe Herbert would have anything to do with the missing children.” Once again, she hid her face in her handkerchief.

“You’re positive you’ve never seen the man? He’s never been to the house?”

The landlady composed herself. “I’m sorry, Inspector. I’d remember if I’d seen him.”

Gardener believed her. “It’s important. Anything you do remember, no matter how trivial, let me know.”

“Inspector, Herbert was a good man. A kind man. I can’t believe he would have anything to do with children.”

Mabel offered to make tea. Gardener suspected it was a good excuse for her to leave the room. Both detectives declined her offer. He turned back to Olive. “How would you describe your relationship with him?”

“I was lonely. Mabel hasn’t always been here, and even when she was, she had her own circle of friends. Herbert and I often shared an evening in front of the telly, a night in the pub. Sometimes I’d visit his room and we’d have a cup of tea...” She let the sentence fade, sniffing and sobbing.

“You were good friends. It was a casual relationship.”

“Yes.”

Gardener sighed, disappointed. He sensed he was going to glean little more information. He was pleased at having cleared up the relationship angle, but he had hoped for more. Plum was as much a mystery to her as he had been to everyone else. “I’ll leave you my card, Miss Bradshaw. But please, think about what I’ve said.”

Olive Bradshaw nodded. Mabel returned with the tea.

Gardener changed the subject. “Christmas is going to be quite hectic for you both, what with the move. When are you expecting to go?”

“Next week, Inspector. Quite frankly, I’ll be glad to see the back of this place. There’s no good memories here.”

“You will remember to let me have your new address, won’t you?”

The two detectives made for the door. The landlady followed them. Gardener turned.

“One more thing. On the night of the murder, you said you heard the commotion. What exactly do you mean by that?”

She paused, as if in thought. “The noise.”

“What kind of a noise? Did you hear any raised voices?”

“No. Furniture banging around. A crash. Mable and