Old Cases New Colours (A Dudley Green Investigation) (The Dudley Sisters Saga Book 9)

by Madalyn Morgan

  A grin spread across Artie’s face. ‘Oh, yes! The idiot showed him his ticket. He said it had BEA written on it and he was flying tonight from Heathrow to Orly. When Smith left, he told them he’d be waking up in Paris on Saturday morning.’

  ‘Which means, he’ll be flying tonight with Louis Mantel to Orly Airport, Paris. We need to let Inspector Powell know it’s tonight they’re leaving, not tomorrow.’ Ena picked up the telephone, dialled Bow Street Police Station and asked to speak to Detective Inspector Powell.

  ‘Inspector, it’s Ena Green,’ she said without preamble.

  ‘Ena, when Horton opened the drawer in the office at La Galerie Unique, the envelope had gone.’

  ‘And the suitcases too?’

  ‘Yes, but he won’t get away. I’ve got men at all the airports and to be on the safe side, at the railway stations and shipping ports.’

  Ena was pleased her friend wasn’t able to see the smile that had spread from ear to ear across her face. ‘Mantel isn’t flying out tomorrow, he’s flying from London Airport tonight.’ She heard the inspector take a sharp breath. ‘I don’t know whether Mantel will be on the same flight as the daytime security guard, Bob Smith, as I’m not sure how many flights there are to Paris tonight, but Smith will be on a BEA flight to Orly.’

  ‘Good God! How do you know?’

  ‘Trade secret.’ Ena laughed.

  ‘Thank you, Ena.’

  ‘Don’t thank me, it was Artie who found out.’

  ‘Tell him I owe him a large drink.’

  Ena laughed again. ‘He’ll hold you to that.’

  ‘What about Horton?’

  ‘Clean.’

  ‘I’m glad. He was a good copper.’

  Henry opened the office door and cleared his throat, loudly.

  ‘I have to go, Inspector.’

  ‘I’ll let you know what happens.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Ena put down the telephone receiver. ‘You’re in the inspector’s good books,’ she called to Artie. ‘He said he owes you a large drink.’

  Artie appeared in the doorway to the kitchen. He blew on the nails of his right hand and polished them on an imaginary lapel.

  Henry was leaning on the door frame of the office looking displeased. ‘I was on my way but I thought I ought to let Inspector Powell know… Never mind, how’s the flat coming along.’

  ‘What’s been done looks good. The plaster’s dry in all the rooms. Some of the woodwork has been painted and some of the walls too. There’s still wallpaper to hang, so it might take a little longer than we’d hoped. The decorator’s a man short.’

  ‘He wasn’t the day before yesterday. What’s changed?’

  ‘One of the men has gone down with the flu.’ He said he’s been in touch with everyone he knows and they’re all too busy to help him out.’

  ‘Alfred Hardy needs a job.’

  ‘Yes, but you can’t just get anyone to—’

  ‘Alfred Hardy is not just anyone. He has been working with his neighbour who is a painter and decorator. And,’ Ena said, with her hands on her hips, ‘have you forgotten that he is the young man who saved you from being convicted of murder last year. You might have been hanged but for the Hardy boys. The poor lad wanted to do an apprenticeship with his uncle, but he died.’ Ena hoped she wasn’t laying it on too thickly. ‘Then, he thought he’d be working with his father, and we know how that turned out. Oh, Henry, it’s time that family had a bit of luck. Darling?’ Ena said, walking across the room to Henry and kissing him lightly on the lips. ‘Would you go back upstairs and have a word with Mr Jones. Tell him that Alfred Hardy is a good lad, works hard and ask him to give the boy a chance.’

  ‘How can I refuse,’ Henry said, opening his arms and shrugging his shoulders.

  Ena made a cup of coffee and when she had finished it, said, ‘Henry’s been up there a long time, don’t you think?’ Artie didn’t reply, he had his head down writing. Impatient to know what the decorator had said, Ena scribbled something on her notepad and ripped out the page. Leaving the office, she called, ‘I’ll be back in a jiffy, Artie, stick the kettle on, there’s a love.’ She crept up the stairs to the flat and listened to the conversation between Henry and Mr Jones from the landing outside the sitting room. She heard Henry say, Alfred Hardy is a good lad and a hard worker, I don’t suppose you’d consider giving him a trial? Just for a week or two, until the flat’s finished.’

  ‘We could do with another pair of hands.’ Mr Jones looked across the room to the decorator working with him. He nodded.

  Ena was willing Henry to be more assertive. Just as she was about to enter the room, she heard him say, ‘I’ll pay the lad’s wages for the next two weeks, three weeks if necessary.’

  Ena put her hand over her mouth to stop herself from shouting with joy and crept down the stairs. Once she was back in the hall by the front door, she ran up the stairs. ‘Hello,’ she said, out of breath. ‘Did Henry mention Alfred Hardy, tell you what a hard working lad he is?’

  ‘Mr Jones is going to give Alfred a job so he can get the flat finished on time.’

  ‘That’s wonderful. Thank you, Mr Jones. Alfred won’t let you down. Oh,’ she said, pretending she had just found a piece of paper in her pocket. ‘This is Alfred’s address. Henry could go and see him now, if you want.’ Ena gave Henry a cheeky grin. ‘You could pop in and see him on your way back to Stockwell, couldn’t you, darling?’

  ‘There’s no need, Mr Green.’ Mr Jones looked up after reading Alfred Hardy’s address. ‘I know this street. It isn’t out of my way. I’ll call tonight.’

  ‘That’s perfect. Alfred’s mother is a friend of mine.’ Ena started to leave and then thought, in for a penny… ‘I don’t suppose you’d consider taking him on as an apprentice? I mean, if he is good enough. If he—’

  ‘Mrs Green, shall we start by asking him if he’s free to help finish the work on your flat? If he is, and he’s as good as you and Mr Green say he is, I’ll think about an apprenticeship.’

  Ena squealed and flew across the room. Putting her arms around Henry, she said. ‘We’ll be able to move in to our lovely new home at the beginning of September as planned.’ She then turned to Mr Jones and the other decorator and shook both their hands. To the boss she said, ‘Thank you, Mr Jones, I promise you won’t be disappointed with Alfred.’

  The decorator laughed. ‘I’ll let you know. Now!’ he said, firmly, ‘would you let us get on with our job? The lady we’re working for is expecting us to finish at the end of next week.’

  ‘And you don’t want to get on the wrong side of her!’ Henry said fielding blows to his arm from Ena.

  Pretending to be annoyed with her husband, Ena made an ‘O’ of her mouth, ‘I’ll see you later,’ she said, ‘and I’ll see you tomorrow,’ she said to Mr Jones, taking in the other decorator at the same time.

  Laughing with excitement, Ena left the flat and returned to the office.

  ‘Did you make me another coffee?’ she asked Artie, falling into her chair.

  ‘One of these days you’ll meet yourself coming back,’ Artie called from the kitchen.

  ‘I think I just have,’ Ena mumbled, taking a couple of calming breaths. ‘What’s this?’ She picked it up a folder, took an invoice from it and said, ‘Artie, what’s the Duke of Wellington Hotel’s folder doing on my desk?’

  ‘You need to send Mr Walters the invoice for the work you did for him,’ Artie said, returning from the kitchen with two mugs of steaming coffee. He put Ena’s mug on her desk, went to his own desk and picked up three small brown envelopes. ‘Quarterly electric bill, quarterly gas, and this month’s mortgage. And it will soon be time for the rates.’

  Ena wrinkled her nose. ‘You’re right. I have George’s invoice in my handbag too.’

  Artie looked up at the ceiling. ‘The whole point of you taking it with you was to give it to George.’

  ‘Don’t start!’ She put up her hand. ‘Giving George an invoice for discovering who killed he
r father on the day of his funeral didn’t feel right. I’ll post it tomorrow when I post Mr Walters his invoice,’ she said, taking a drink of her coffee.

  ‘I’ll let you off for not giving George her invoice, but seriously, Ena, you do need to send clients their invoices as soon as the work is completed.’

  ‘And I will in future. I just didn’t want to give George hers yesterday.’

  ‘I know. How was the funeral?’

  ‘Different. There are a lot of rules to observe. Not for Jewish people, they’re brought up with them, but for me and Henry there were. I could tell George was upset. Unfortunately, she wasn’t able to show her emotions during the day. I expect she would have done later when there was only Betsy and Natalie there.’

  ‘Is Betsy George’s, friend?’

  ‘If you’re asking if the two women live together, yes, they do. They’ve been together since they were young dancers at the Prince Albert Theatre in the war. I think George is a little older that Betsy. If Betsy is in her late thirties, George must be about my sister Margot’s age – forty-two.’

  She took the invoice that she’d typed up for Mr Walters from the folder leaving the carbon copy for her own records. She laid the invoice on her desk, took the folder back to the filing cabinet and slipped it in the section marked ‘D’ for Duke of Wellington Hotel. She then went to the stationary cupboard and took out two smaller envelopes. Writing the address of the hotel on the first envelope she added a first-class stamp. She did the same to the envelope containing George’s invoice. Conscious that, although Dudley Green Associates needed the money, the invoice would still arrive too soon after George’s father’s funeral, she put a second-class stamp on it.

  Artie reached over and snatched up both envelopes. ‘I’ll post them on my way home.’

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  Artie dropped several envelopes onto Ena’s desk. ‘More bills?’

  Ena flicked through the mail picking a Wedgwood blue envelope from between three buff coloured ones. ‘No. At least this one isn’t a bill,’ she said, slicing it open with the letter-opener.

  ‘You hope.’

  ‘Don’t be such a cynic. You’re like a bear with a sore head this morning. Had a bad weekend?’

  Artie flicked his hair back and mumbled something Ena didn’t hear. She looked at the name of the sender on top of the page before reading the letter. ‘It’s from Jeanie McKinlay, the nurse at The Willows. Oh,’ she said surprised, ‘she’s left the nursing home.’

  ‘Good for her,’ Artie said, ‘she was wasted there.’

  ‘She certainly was.’ Ena went back to reading Jeanie’s letter. ‘I have been visiting Mrs Thornton and her grandson, Rory. They are both doing very well. Mrs Thornton is in good health. She rarely speaks of her granddaughter and if her name comes up, which it has done recently in letters from the girl’s psychiatrist, she gets upset. I don’t know whether Andrea will ever be tried for the murder of Mr Derby-Bloom or the attempted murder of her grandmother. If she is tried, it won’t be for a long time, as she is currently in a secure ward at The Hibbert Hospital for the mentally ill.

  Rory is having physiotherapy. The house is very big and there are several rooms on the ground floor that weren’t being used. One room, in particular, has an adjoining door to Rory’s bedroom. The physiotherapist and I have turned that room into a keep fit room.’ Ena laughed. ‘Good girl, Jeanie. The physiotherapist has had parallel bars installed for Rory to hold onto. I’ve been assisting by helping Rory stand up. In the beginning, he was frightened to try, which was to be expected, but after a couple of weeks, he could stand for a few seconds. Now he holds onto the parallel bars without Gerry or me supporting him. He’s amazing.’ Ena looked at Artie and giggled. ‘I wonder who’s amazing, Rory or Gerry the physiotherapist.’ She read on. ‘The physiotherapist has every confidence that Rory, in time, will walk again.’ Ena put down the first page, began reading the second and gasped.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘She says, I have decided to retrain. Working with Rory, I now know my vocation lies in orthopaedics. I couldn’t be a physiotherapist, like Gerry. The training would take too long, and, although I’m fairly strong, I don’t think I have the physical strength to do the job properly. But this last couple of weeks, helping Rory and seeing how the work Gerry has done with him has helped him – and it really has, Ena. It has made a huge difference to Rory’s confidence and to his life. To mine too. I now know I want to work in the physical injuries and pain management field.’

  Ena laid the second page on top of the first and began reading the last page. ‘Mrs Thornton is very grateful to you where her grandson is concerned, Ena, and extends an open invitation to you and Mr Mallory to visit the house anytime.

  I’d like to keep in touch with updates about Rory. He is a remarkable young man. I shudder to think how his life would have turned out if it hadn’t been for you. Yours faithfully, Jeanie.’

  ‘Well, that’s a turn up for the books. Jeanie will have to lift patients on an orthopaedics ward.’

  ‘But not on her own. Like at The Willows, if residents weren’t able to get out of their chairs, there were always two nurses to lift them – one on each side of the person.’ Ena put the letter back in its envelope. ‘Jeanie’s address was at the top of the first page. I’ll keep in touch with Jeanie too. I’ll write back to her when I get a minute.’

  Ena leaned back in her chair. I wonder how DI Powell got on Friday night. I hope Smith was with Mantel, and the inspector arrested them both. I’d have given anything to see Mantel’s face when DI Powell arrested him. Little squirt that he is.’

  ‘Telephone the inspector and find out.’

  ‘No. He’ll telephone us when he has time.’ Ena’s fingers were itching to pick up the telephone and ask DI Powell about Mantel’s arrest.

  ‘Go on, you know you want to,’ Artie teased.

  ‘Shut up, Artie. I don’t want to push it. He’ll think we want thanking or something.’

  ‘After handing him an international art thief on a plate, who wouldn’t want thanks?’

  ‘It was you who found out they were leaving the country; the flight details and the destination, not me. I only telephoned the inspector with the information.’

  ‘And by doing so you saved him from deploying dozens of coppers to every railway station, shipping port and airport in Christendom. Which, I might add, saved the Metropolitan Police a small fortune in overtime.’

  ‘True.’

  ‘And,’ Artie said, as much to himself as to Ena, ‘with a saving like that, the inspector could afford to pay us.’ Ena chose to ignore him. ‘I’d send the lovely DI Powell an invoice if I were you.’

  ‘Well, you’re not me.’ Ena got up and crossed the room to the door. ‘I’m not sitting here waiting for the damn telephone to ring.’ She took the office keys from her handbag, but left her purse. ‘You can buy me a cup of coffee at Café Romano.’

  As Artie got up from his seat the shrill ring of the telephone on Ena’s desk began to echo around the room. He stepped back and looked at it as if was about to burst into flames. ‘Come on, Ena, quickly. It could be the inspector.’

  Ena ran to the phone, took a deep breath and picked up the receiver. ‘Dudley Green Associates, Ena Green speaking.’

  ‘Mrs Green, it’s Doreen Hardy here.’

  Artie had left his seat and was standing next to Ena to listen to the conversation.

  She moved the telephone from her right ear to her left and looking at Artie said, ‘Hello Doreen.’

  Artie took a deep breath, exhaling loudly and letting the air that escaped his mouth reverberate against his lips.

  Ena glared at him. ‘What can I do for you, Doreen?’

  ‘Nothing, Mrs Green. I wanted to tell you that I have returned to the Duke of Wellington Hotel. I am working around taking and fetching Gerald and Billy to and from school, but the reason I’m telephoning is to thank you for asking your painter and decorator to give my boy a job.’ En
a could hear the pride in Doreen’s voice. ‘Alfred did so well that Mr Jones said when the apprentice he’s got now qualifies, he’s going to take Alfred on as his apprentice.’

  ‘Doreen, I’m so pleased for Alfred and pleased for you too. Give my regards to Mr Walters, will you?’ Ena looked at Artie and put up her thumb. ‘And what about Maisie?’

  ‘She’s working at the canning factory. She’s paying me back a bit each week. She’s doing her best to make amends.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear it, Doreen.’

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Green. That’s really all I wanted to say. I know you’re busy so I won’t keep you – and I’m ringing from the hotel, so I’d better get on. Good bye.’

  ‘Good bye, Doreen.’ Ena put down the telephone. ‘So, Doreen is back at the hotel and her eldest, Alfred, has been offered an apprenticeship by Mr Jones, our decorator.’

  ‘I’m glad things have turned out well for her.’

  ‘So am I.’ Ena looked at Artie, thoughtfully. ‘We’re a good team, you and I, don’t you think?’ Seeing Artie’s eyes moisten, which usually meant he was about to get emotional, Ena took her handkerchief out of her handbag and pushed it into his hands. ‘Don’t go all soppy on me, not before you’ve made me my morning coffee.’

  ‘What about going to Café Romano?’

  ‘Mmm... Let’s have coffee here, the inspector might ring.’

  Laughing and at the same time dabbing his eyes, Artie got up and went into the kitchen. ‘You’re a hard woman, Ena Green.’

  ‘That’s a splash of milk and one sugar, please,’ she called after him. ‘I need a boost of energy. Last night Henry and I polished off a half bottle of Teacher’s.’

  Hearing the flap of the letter box snap shut, Ena went out to the front door. Two letters. She opened the first walking back to the office. A bill for the rates. She slipped it into her handbag before Artie saw it.

  ‘Was that the post?’ Artie asked, coming from the kitchen with two mugs of coffee.