"Chelsea Quinn Yarbro - Long-Term Investment" - читать интересную книгу автора (Yarbro Chelsea Quinn)

"Yes," said Edward. "The bills of lading are in the office. What you see here comes from Varna, most
of it. Very elaborate carving they do in that part of the worldтАФvery elaborate." He pointed to the nearest
stack of coffins. "These are the simple ones. There are fancier toward the back. We even have some with
bells to be secured above in case someone should be buried alive, and need to be dug up again." He had
been told to mention this desirable feature even though he thought it ghoulish.
"Do you open them, orтАФ" the inspector began.
"Oh, no," said Edward hastily. "It's notтАж seemly."
"Um. Very prudent," said the policeman indifferently, and handed a card to Edward. "Will you be
good enough to tell Mister Carfax that Inspector Uriah Ames is desirous of speaking with him at his
earliest convenience?"
Edward took the card, holding it gingerly. "May I tell him what this is about?" he asked, curiosity and
dread warring within him.
Inspector Ames coughed diplomatically. "A body was found washed up on the Isle of Dogs. It has no
identification, no clothing. It is likely the deceased was the victim of foul play. The dead woman has not
been claimed or anyone of her description reported missing." He watched Edward closely. "We are
asking all businesses along the docks, for it is likely that she was thrown into the water somewhere in this
area, and we are hoping that someone noticed something." He paused, his pencil poised over his
well-thumbed notebook. "Have you noticed any suspicious activities in this area in the last week or so?"
Edward shook his head. "I have been in the office, or on the floor, making an inventory for Mister
Carfax. I take my tea inside." He shrugged apologetically. "I wish I could tell you something more."
"Provide me with your direction, and I suppose that will do for now," said Inspector Ames.
"Edward Hitchin, Beeks House, White Horse Road, Stepney," he said promptly, knowing that the
address was far from impressive.
"Lived there long, have you?" Inspector Ames asked as he wrote.
"M'Mum and I have been there for ten years and more." He did his best not to sound defensive.
"Your Mum still there, is she?" Inspector Ames asked.
"Yes; she's not in good health." It was a convenient mendacity, for the melancholy which held her in
its grip seemed as crippling as any misfortune or disease.
"Sorry to hear that," said Inspector Ames with the habitual sympathy of one used to bad news. "Stays
in, does she?"
"Most of the time. I tend to her needs," Edward informed Inspector Ames, at once proud and wary.
"And you work here for long hours," said Inspector Ames.
"I am well-paid for my time," Edward insisted. "Mister Carfax is a generous employer."
"Worked for him long, have you?" Inspector Ames seemed disinterested in the answer, but Edward
knew enough about the police not to be deceived by this ploy.
"Not long, no. Mister Carfax is a foreigner but recently arrived in London. He keeps a house
somewhere in the country, but he has a place in London, probably in the toffy part of townтАФ Mayfair, or
Berkeley Square or some such. He's rich enough, and he has the manner." He felt that volunteering this
information would show his willingness to cooperate with the police inquiries. "He comes here three or
four times a week to tend to business and to instruct me in my duties." "Then you expect to see him
shortly," said Inspector Ames.
"Tomorrow, about four or five," said Edward promptly.
"Then you will give him my card and pass along my message, and I shall expect a call from Mister
Carfax before the end of the week." This affable request, Edward knew, was an order. He nodded.
"I'll attend to it, first thing he arrives," Edward said, and tried to contain his fidgets.
"That's good of you," said Inspector Ames as he put his pencil and notebook away, and with an
uneasy glance at the stacked coffins and caskets said, "I'll let myself out."


By the time Carfax arrived the next afternoon, Edward had become distressed about what the