Angel and the Actress Read Online Free Page B

other a Volkswagen,’ Crisp said. ‘They were stolen from different addresses within five minutes of each other. The Ford was almost new and the Volkswagen only two years old. There were two in the gang. I have a witness who saw and spoke to one of them.’
    Angel ran the tip of his fingers repeatedly over an eyebrow. ‘Looks like some big fish tooling up for a job.’
    ‘That’s what I thought.’
    ‘Have you shown the witness our rogues’ gallery?’
    ‘She’s looking through it now, sir.’
    Angel frowned and tapped his fist against his lips. Eventually he said, ‘It sounds as if you might be close to a result there.’
    ‘I believe so, sir. Can’t be sure, of course. It depends on the witness.’
    Angel wrinkled his nose. ‘I expect she’s a blonde, about thirty,’ he said.
    Crisp grinned. ‘No, sir. She’s got mousy-coloured hair and is about fifty. But you’re right about being close to a result. I might be able to sew it up if she picks out the villain.’
    ‘Right. Stay where you are, then, for the moment. We’ll manage. But let me know how you get on.’
    Angel ended the call and pocketed the mobile. He rubbed his chin. He took out the mobile again and tapped in a number. It began to ring out.
    At last it was answered. ‘CID, DC Ahaz speaking. Can I help you?’
    ‘Ahmed?’ Angel said.
    ‘Yes, sir,’ the young man answered brightly. ‘Good morning, sir.’
    ‘What are you busy with?’
    Ahmed smiled. His eyes sparkled. It sounded as if an interesting job might be in the offing. ‘Only filing, sir,’ he said.
    ‘Come out here then, ASAP. I want you. We’re very short-handed. Tell the duty sergeant, and ask him if there’s any transport coming this way, otherwise you’ll have to walk.’
    Ahmed Ahaz’s eyes sparkled. ‘Right, sir. I won’t be long.’
    Angel smiled as he ended the call. He could always depend on Ahmed. He was enthusiastic, willing to learn, a hard-worker and conscientious. Angel thought he had the makings of a great detective.
    He stuffed the mobile into his pocket. He was considering what to do next when there was a knock at the door.
    ‘Come in,’ he said.
    It was DS Taylor. He was carrying a polythene bag with the word EVIDENCE printed in big red letters across it.
    ‘What is it, Don?’ Angel said.
    ‘The Walther,’ Taylor said, holding out the bag.
    Angel took it and put it on the tabletop.
    ‘As expected there are no prints,’ Taylor said. ‘I’ve got Records looking up the serial number. It was brought here fully loaded. I’ve taken seven bullets out. The eighth was the bullet case which was found, which is the same bore, and which presumably killed Joan Minter.’
    ‘Better check the firing-pin mark,’ Angel said.
    He nodded. ‘Will do.’
    ‘Any prints on any of them?’
    ‘Polished clean, sir,’ he said. Then the muscles round his mouth tightened. He cleared his throat as he added, ‘ Very professionally.’
    Angel rubbed his hand hard across his mouth. He nodded and said, ‘It’s all very worrying, Don.’
    ‘I’ll get back to my team, sir,’ Taylor said, and turned to go.
    ‘Right. Is everything going all right? How far have you got?’
    ‘I’ve almost finished the male guests, sir. Had a bit of trouble with one of them … an American called Erick Cartlett. He said that I’d no right to subject him to that sort of indignity. He prattled on about his human rights and all that. And he wants to see you.’
    ‘I’ll see him first. Send him along, will you?’
    Taylor said, ‘Right, sir, I will. And the butler, Trott, did you want me to check him for gunshot residue? I mean, hewas only a few feet away from Miss Minter when she was shot.’
    ‘May as well. And the two caterers, as well. Everybody who was there.’
    ‘Right, sir.’
    ‘I expect Mac will vacuum the clothes Joan Minter was wearing?’
    Suddenly, without warning, the door opened and a man with thick spectacles, grey hair and a red face burst in. He came up to Angel,