IMPURITY by Ray Clark (which ebook reader txt) 📕

Chapter Fifty

Neither detective waited for an invitation before pushing past the elderly butler as he opened the door.

“Is Summers at home?” inquired Gardener.

“He is, sir, but he’s with a client.”

“Tell the client to leave,” Gardener called over his shoulder as he headed towards Summers’ study.

The elderly butler tried to keep up. “He gave me explicit instructions not to be disturbed.”

Gardener was tiring of the old butler. He gave Reilly a nod. The butler was thin and wiry and at a guess, seventy years old, with white hair and a complexion similar to stiffened grey cardboard. Reilly placed a hand on the butler’s shoulder. “Listen, Jeeves, I’m sure it’ll look a lot better if you disturb him. You get my drift?”

The butler nodded. “I’ll see to it, sir.”

When they were finally allowed to see Summers, he was sitting at a cluttered desk enshrouded by smoke. Gardener reached the middle of the room and smelled perfume. He wondered who had visited and how they had left. As he glanced around, his eyes came to rest on a door in the corner, which he had somehow failed to notice on his previous visit.

“I find this intrusion highly irregular, Mr Gardener. You’d better have good reason.”

“There’d be little point being here if I hadn’t.” Gardener sat down, removed his hat, and waved away the smoke around his head. Reilly remained standing. “There have been further developments. I have more questions for you.”

“I’ve told you everything I know.”

“I doubt that very much,” replied Gardener, silently seething. “Which is why I have a search and seize warrant for your premises and your books.”

The expression on the agent’s face could have frozen an active volcano. His pupils dilated. Gardener felt as though he was staring down a double-barrel shotgun. The cigar on which Summers had been about to take a drag remained motionless in mid-air. “I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me. I have two officers in a squad car outside, with two men from forensics. I also have a search warrant for your premises.” Gardener handed it to Summers for inspection.

“This is outrageous! I don’t know what you think you’ll find.”

“For your sake, I should hope nothing.”

“I will, of course, seek legal advice, Mr Gardener.”

“Feel free,” Gardener smiled. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like the team to make a start, and I’d like you to answer my questions.”

“Am I under arrest?”

“Not at all, you’re helping with enquiries,” Gardener said as he left the room. He went out to the squad cars and motioned for the forensics team to begin. He then rejoined Reilly and Summers in the study, continuing on as if he never left. “Last night, Mr Summers, where were you?”

Summers re-lit his cigar. “Attending a Christmas dinner hosted by the Entertainment Agents Association.”

“Where? What time did it start and finish?” Gardener asked.

“The Queens Hotel in Leeds. Started about six-thirty. Finished around midnight.”

“Were you with anyone?” asked Reilly.

“No, I went alone.”

“How convenient,” Reilly sneered.

“Did you stay all evening? Where did you go once you left?” asked Gardener.

“As a matter of fact, I didn’t. I left at eight. I didn’t feel too well. I came straight home.”

“And your butler can verify your return?”

Summers hesitated. “No, I gave him the night off.”

Gardener wondered why he paused. “So, you went out for the evening, alone. You took ill, came home alone to an empty house. Spent the rest of the evening how? By yourself?”

“I don’t like your implications, Mr Gardener.”

“And I don’t like your answers, Mr Summers. Were you by yourself for the rest of the evening?”

“Yes, but before I went to bed, I had a phone call from the chairman of the association. Checking on my health, you understand. I’m sure the phone company’ll have a record of the call.”

“We’ve no doubt they will,” retorted Reilly. “But what would it prove? It doesn’t prove you were here. All it tells us is that a call came to your house. We want to know your movements for last night. And you’ve told us, but you have no way of proving where you were.”

Summers smirked. “But surely you have enough brains to realize, Mister, er...”

“Reilly!”

“Quite. Surely you realize there are people who can verify I was at The Queens between six-thirty and eight in the evening?”

“Maybe they can, and you’re going to give us a list of names so we can check it out. But we’re more interested in your movements after you left. The ones you seem to have difficulty proving, do you not?”

Summers grew defensive. “I think it’s time you told me why you’re here.”

“Does the name Frank Myers mean anything?” asked Gardener.

For the second time in as many minutes, Summers bore an expression of displeasure.

“What about him?”

“He was killed last night, at his home.”

“And you think I had something to do with it?”

“You tell me. What concerns me is why you lied to me the last time we met. I asked if you had anyone else working for you in the same capacity as Plum and Thornwell. You said you hadn’t.”

“Which was true.”

“Then can you explain why he was in possession of a bill for commission from you?”

“He owed me money.”

“How could he if he didn’t work for you?”

“When you came to see me, his employment had already been terminated.”

“Do you really expect us to believe that?” snorted Reilly.

“You can believe what you want,” said Summers, resting back in his chair, sucking on the cigar.

Reilly leaned in closer to Summers. “We’re beginning to. And from where I’m standing, it doesn’t look so good for you.”

“When and why did you terminate his employment?” inquired Gardener.

“He was arrogant. Turned up for work when he felt like