The Stratford Murder by Mike Hollow (love books to read txt) 📕

posters on the wall in an alcove caught his eye, and he was about to take a closer look when his host returned. Ballantyne stood aside to make way for a woman, who crossed the room towards Jago with her right hand outstretched.

‘How do you do, Inspector,’ she said, taking his hand and shaking it limply. ‘Madame Zara, astrologist and medium.’

Her voice struck Jago as an intriguing mix of Yorkshire and the ‘correct’ English affected by BBC wireless announcers, as if perhaps she’d once had elocution lessons but they hadn’t been entirely successful.

‘And in case you were wondering,’ she added, ‘this is my husband, so if this is an official visit I suppose you should call me Mrs Ballantyne.’

‘Thank you. I’d been given to understand that Madame Zara was a stage name.’

‘Yes, that’s correct. My friends know me as Vera – that’s my real name. It means “faith”. I’m a Pisces, you see, born on the nineteenth of March, and my mother knew that that would make me a faithful and caring person, so she gave me an appropriate name.’

Here we go again, thought Jago. There must be more horoscope-lovers around than I’d thought.

‘What’s your zodiac sign, Inspector?’ the woman continued.

‘I’m afraid I don’t know,’ he replied.

‘You should, you know. Some people ignore what’s written in the stars for their life, and they’re the poorer for it. What’s your birth date? I may be able to give you some helpful insights.’

‘Well, supposing I were to tell you my birthday was the twelfth of November.’

‘Then you are a Scorpio.’

‘I see, and what would the stars say for me?’

‘They would tell you this is a week in which you should do what you feel is right. It’s up to you. Your planets are favourable for action, so if you’re thinking you should take the plunge on some matter, this could be the time to do it. But is that your real birth date?’

‘Surely the stars should be able to tell you that.’

‘I see you are sceptical, Inspector. That’s a pity. It’s difficult to help those who have no trust. I expect you would say a policeman cannot trust anyone or anything, but surely even policemen have to trust sometimes. I’d be happy to give you a personal reading – my fees are very modest – then you’d know your ruling planet, your lucky number, and the birthdate of your most suitable marriage partner, for example.’

‘I don’t think that’ll be necessary, thank you.’

‘Or for your colleague?’

Cradock glanced at Jago and shook his head. ‘No thanks, madam.’

There was a brief silence, broken when Ballantyne stepped forward, rubbing his hands together.

‘Shall I make some tea?’ he asked.

‘Yes, please, dear,’ said Vera. ‘A cup of tea for you, gentlemen?’

‘That would be very nice,’ said Jago.

‘And as it’s getting on for lunchtime,’ Ballantyne continued, ‘perhaps I could make you a sandwich. Would cheese and pickle be all right?’

From the corner of his eye Jago saw Cradock’s eyes light up.

‘That would be most kind,’ he said. ‘But are you sure you can spare the butter?’

‘Actually, we don’t have any. You know what it’s like now the ration’s down to two ounces. Would you mind margarine instead? I can’t abide the stuff myself – goodness only knows what it’s made of.’

‘Margarine will be fine.’

Ballantyne left the room, promising to be back soon.

‘So how can I help you?’ said Vera when the door closed behind him.

‘Well, as I said to your husband, we’re investigating the death of a young lady called Joan Lewis. We’ve been told she attended a seance conducted by you, with her mother-in-law, Mrs Audrey Lewis. Is that correct?’

‘Yes, that’s right.’

‘And you’ve known Audrey for some time?’

‘Oh, yes. Actually we’re sort of related. Not really, that is, but our husbands are cousins, or were, until poor Charles passed away. That’s why she originally came to me for help when she wanted to get in touch with him, you see.’

‘And the time Joan came with her, what happened?’

‘Audrey wanted to contact Charles, but it proved not to be possible. Then she asked me if I could get any news of her son, Richard.’

‘Joan’s husband.’

‘Yes. He’s been reported missing in France, and Audrey’s very concerned. But we weren’t able to find out anything.’

‘Why was that?’

‘Joan wasn’t a believer, so we couldn’t get through to anyone. She was a sceptic, like you. She had this little smirk – like she was laughing at me.’

‘I expect you’re quite perceptive about people. Did you pick up anything in Joan that might help us understand what happened to her?’

‘She seemed very ordinary. Not much colour to her, a grey sort of person. She was flat, emotionless, but then she didn’t know what’d happened to her husband, so naturally she was preoccupied. All I can say is she was what you might call a closed book – one that I couldn’t open.’

‘I see. Have you had any other contact with her, before or since that seance?’

‘No. I probably wouldn’t have met her at all if she hadn’t been Audrey’s daughter-in-law.’

‘And you didn’t learn anything that might shed light on why someone would want to kill her?’

‘No, nothing at all, really. Audrey did most of the talking – well, she tends to do that when younger people are present. She just asked if I could make contact with the spirit world and find out what’d happened to Richard.’

‘But it didn’t work.’

‘On that occasion I wasn’t able to make contact, but in a way that’s a good thing. It could indicate that Richard’s still alive – he’d only be contactable if he’d passed away.’

‘Hmm. And what did Joan have to say about that?’

‘Joan didn’t really say anything, as far as I can recall. If anything, she seemed rather indifferent, as if she didn’t care, but whether that was about the seance or what’d happened to her husband I really couldn’t say. I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful, but that’s the only time I’ve met her.’

The door opened and Ballantyne entered with cups of tea which