The Stratford Murder by Mike Hollow (love books to read txt) 📕
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- Author: Mike Hollow
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‘Well, I’m afraid you’re talking to the wrong person. I’m too much of a sceptic.’
‘As you are about horoscopes. And yet I sense you’re facing a difficult decision, and it concerns another person, someone who’s important in your life. Astrology can help. Millions of people believe in it, including some very important figures.’
‘Yes, I’ve heard Hitler and some of his pals are very keen on it.’
‘Well, he’s not one of the people I was thinking of, but if our leaders paid more attention to his horoscope they might be better able to thwart him. It’s the key to understanding the man. He’s a Taurus, and his horoscope has Saturn in the tenth house. If they studied that they’d know it’s the sign of immense ambition, authority and success, but also that if he lets that ambition control him it will all end in defeat. A man with that kind of ambition will think the world’s there for the taking.’
‘So Hitler’s ambitious? You don’t need a horoscope to know that.’
‘But don’t you see? For all we know, Hitler may have decided to invade Poland or France on the basis of advice from his astrologists. If our leaders consulted our own experts on the stars we might be able to anticipate his moves and save lives. Churchill’s no fool. I’ve written to him about it and I’m expecting a positive reply.’
‘Right, but I’m more concerned about events a little closer to home.’
‘And I share that concern, Inspector. It may surprise you to know that my work has already saved people’s lives right here on our own doorstep.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, a girl who works at a local cinema came for a reading a while back and I told her the stars said it wasn’t a good week for undertaking anything underhand or secret. She came back the following week and said her manager had told her to go to a rival cinema to spy on the competition, find out what they charged for their ice creams or something, but because of what the stars had told her she didn’t go. And do you know, that very night that cinema was bombed. If I hadn’t told her what was in the stars she might well’ve been one of the people killed there.’
‘Was that Joan Lewis?’
‘No. Why? Did she work in a cinema?’
‘Yes.’
‘I didn’t know that. No, it wasn’t her. It was a young woman called Cynthia. A bright girl, I thought, and she had the intelligence to respect the stars.’
Jago and Cradock said goodbye to the Ballantynes and made their way back to the car. Jago noticed a cheeky expression on the younger man’s face that he’d seen before.
‘What are you grinning at, lad?’ he said.
‘I was just thinking what an odd pair they were, sir. How about that Madame Zara, or should I say Madame Vera? All that stuff she was coming out with about you having to make a difficult decision and take the plunge … Was she right?’
‘That’s none of your business. And even if it were, you should pay no attention to it. Everyone has to make difficult decisions, and these people say things like that because they sound personal, but they could apply to anyone. Ten years ago there were none of these horoscopes in the papers, but now you see them everywhere. It’s just a fad.’
‘My mum reads hers every day.’
‘Good luck to her, then. We didn’t have them when I was a young man. Can you imagine what your horoscope would’ve said in 1916? “A good day for going over the top – look out for opportunities to be cut down by enfilading machine-gun fire”? No, it’s all about making people feel happy and confident when life’s just the opposite.’
‘People do say these psychic types can see into your heart, though, don’t they?’
‘Well, I can assure you she wasn’t looking into mine. And even if there were someone important in my life, it wouldn’t be you, so it’s none of your business. These people just use tricks. At its most innocent it’s all pure poppycock, but at its worst it’s creating a public mischief.’
Jago looked through the car’s side window back towards the Ballantynes’ house. He was about to start the Riley’s engine, but put the key back in his pocket.
‘Wait here a moment,’ he said to Cradock. ‘I need to pop back and check something.’
Before Cradock could answer, Jago was out of the car and striding towards the Ballantynes’ front door. He knocked, and Ballantyne opened it.
‘Just one more thing,’ said Jago apologetically. ‘I wonder whether you might do me a favour. Could I come back sometime and talk to you about my father? When this investigation’s over, of course. I was so young when he died, I thought I’d have him for ever. It hadn’t occurred to me to ask him about his life, the things he’d done before I came along. Now I’ve no family left, so there’s no one to ask. You’re the first person I’ve met who knew him when he was a young man, on the stage, and, well, I’d like to hear some more of your stories about him.’
‘Why, of course,’ said Ballantyne. ‘I should be delighted. You could perhaps come and join us for tea and a gentle trip down memory lane, as they say. I would enjoy thinking back to those good old days myself. Just get in touch when you’d like to do it.’
‘Thank you,’ said Jago. ‘I will.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Jago drove in silence. He felt irritated – how dare that woman put ideas in his head about a ‘difficult decision’ and ‘taking the plunge’? If he’d only been considering whether or
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