Paul Temple and the Tyler Mystery. Francis Durbridge

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СКАЧАТЬ admitted Sir Graham, rocking his weight slightly to and fro and studying the liquid in his glass. ‘Not entirely, I must admit. Have you heard anything lately of a character called Harry Shelford?’

      ‘Harry Shelford?’

      Temple repeated the name thoughtfully as he accepted the cocktail glass Steve handed him. He remembered Harry Shelford distinctly. He was a likeable bad-lot who had been mixed up in a fraud case some four years earlier. Temple had become involved in the investigations and was partly responsible for his being sentenced to two years in gaol. On his release Harry Shelford’s first action had been to call on Temple and ask him for the loan of four hundred pounds; he intended, he said, to give up crime, go back to his old job. His idea was to open up a chemist’s business in South Africa. Temple was so surprised – and amused – by the request that he lent Harry the money. Twelve months later, to his astonishment, he received repayment in full.

      ‘No, I haven’t heard anything from him – or about him – for over a year now. Why are you interested in him?’

      ‘So far as you know he hasn’t returned to this country?’

      Temple shook his head.

      ‘If he had done so I’m sure he would have got in touch with me – if only for another loan!’

      ‘Mmm.’

      Sir Graham glanced towards Vosper and finished his whisky. Steve moved forward to replenish it but he said: ‘No more for me, thank you, Steve,’ and held on to the empty glass.

      ‘Do you know anything about this Tyler affair?’

      Steve looked at him sharply and then turned to study Temple’s expression as he answered.

      ‘I’ve read the headlines,’ he said casually. ‘That’s about all.’

      ‘It’s an interesting problem,’ Sir Graham continued in his most beguiling tone. ‘Just your cup of tea, in fact.’

      ‘I don’t want to get involved, Sir Graham. Steve and I are pretty busy at the moment. We’ve had quite a time settling into the flat and now there’s this trip to Paris.’

      ‘Suppose Harry Shelford is mixed up in the case – would you change your mind?’

      ‘What makes you think he is?’ Temple put the question warily. He had a soft spot for Harry.

      Sir Graham looked down at Vosper and nodded. The Inspector opened the notebook he had been holding ready in his hand and balanced it on his knee. He eyed Temple sternly and cleared his throat. Sir Graham sank back into a chair, and Steve, passing close behind Temple’s back as he sat balanced on the arm of a couch, murmured: ‘Here we go again.’

      ‘Betty Tyler was an employee at the Mayfair salon de coiffure’ – Vosper pronounced the word as in Saloon Bar and with evident distaste – ‘of a hairdresser of Spanish nationality who is known by the name of Mariano. I understand that he’s quite the rage among the fashionable set now. This Tyler girl was extremely attractive and she became friendly with a Mr George Westeral – in fact she was soon engaged to him.’

      ‘Westeral?’ Temple cut in. ‘I seem to know that name.’

      ‘The Honourable George Westeral,’ Sir Graham confirmed and Temple nodded. Westeral was one of the most eligible bachelors in London – wealthy, intelligent and good-looking. Temple associated him with photographs in the Tatler of society people attending race meetings.

      ‘That must have put a few debutantes’ noses out of joint!’

      ‘It did,’ Sir Graham chuckled. ‘But his family didn’t raise any objections. You must have read about it in the papers. They made quite a story about the engagement. However, I mustn’t poach on Vosper’s preserves.’

      The Inspector took a moment to pick up the thread of his tale after this interruption. He shot Sir Graham a slightly petulant glance before continuing.

      ‘Well, the engagement did not last long. It was broken off suddenly and no reason was given. Mister Westeral told reporters that he and the girl had simply failed to hit it off but there was a general feeling that more lay behind it than that. The girl was very upset about it. I questioned her employer – this Mariano fellow.’ Again Vosper’s nose wrinkled slightly as he pronounced the foreign name. ‘She asked him if she could be transferred to the new branch he was opening in Oxford. Mariano agreed. He gave her a few days off to find digs and she began work again the following week.’

      Vosper licked a forefinger and turned over a page of his notebook. Steve, watching her husband’s face, had noted the two horizontal lines which always appeared between his brows when his interest was captured by a problem.

      ‘On Thursday of last week, Westeral travelled to Oxford for the purpose of seeing Betty Tyler. He took her out to lunch—’

      ‘Early closing day in Oxford,’ Temple observed. Vosper looked up sharply, caught off balance for just a moment. Then he smiled, like a batsman who spots a googly and plays it back to the bowler.

      ‘Not at Mister Mariano’s. The girl was back at work the same afternoon. But that night she was found by a police patrol in an abandoned car on the outskirts of Oxford – the Chipping Norton road to be precise. The car was a Jaguar which had been reported missing by its owner, an Oxford accountant named Gerald Walters. He had been at a late business conference and came out to find the car gone.’

      ‘She had been strangled and her body placed in the capacious luggage boot,’ supplied Temple. ‘That much I do know.’

      ‘Yes. Strangled with her own scarf.’

      ‘That’s established, is it?’

      ‘Quite definitely. It was a silk scarf of French manufacture printed with pictures of well-known monuments in Paris.’

      ‘“Strangling were surer, but this is quainter”,’ quoted Temple.

      ‘What’s that?’

      ‘Nothing. Go on with the story.’

      ‘Naturally we checked up on Westeral. He claimed he knew nothing about it. He returned to London on the 3.24 from Oxford and went straight to his club, where he stayed till late that evening.’ Vosper saw Temple’s eye stray and knew that he was thinking in terms of Bradshaw. ‘It’s all right, Mr Temple, there is a 3.24 from Oxford. And several people saw Westeral on that train. We checked at his club too and he definitely stayed there till close on midnight. He’s telling the truth all right.’

      ‘Did he tell you why he went to Oxford in the first place?’

      ‘Yes. I asked him that. He admitted that he went with the intention of persuading the girl to patch things up with him. He also admitted that he failed to do so.’

      The telephone bell had been ringing in the hall for several minutes. Now Charlie put his head round the door and looked at Temple enquiringly.

      ‘I’m out, Charlie. Ask them to leave a number and I’ll call back later. Go on, Inspector, sorry about the interruption.’

      Sir Graham, who was almost as accurate as Steve in assessing Temple’s reactions, thought to himself: СКАЧАТЬ