Angel thought about this.

‘Her voice was strained, as if it pained her to speak.’

He nodded encouragingly.

‘But title or no title,’ she added. ‘I am as clean as anybody. I am always washing my hands.’

‘I’m sure you are,’ Angel said kindly. ‘Was there anything else?’

‘Yes. There was something else that I noticed. Only a little thing….’

Angel nodded encouragingly.

‘A matter of bad manners, really,’ she said. ‘Whenever I saw her come up the path, she always walked straight into the house. She never knocked and waited … like you or I would do. She didn’t knock. Just barged straight in.’

‘Perhaps she did that because she knew Mrs Prophet was blind. They were supposed to be good friends. Save her getting up.’

Mrs Duplessis didn’t agree. She simply shook her head. She thought Cora Blessington was categorically rude.

Angel made a note of it.

‘How often did you see Lady Blessington?’

‘Three or four times. When I was in the garden. She would arrive suddenly, by taxi. Sail up the path. Wave and call out a greeting of some sort then dash into the house through the front door. An hour so later, a taxi would arrive, she would come out of the house, down the path to it and away.’

‘Did you always see her in the company of Mrs Prophet?’

‘I don’t think so. Dear Alicia hardly ever came out. Her blindness made it difficult.’

‘And what did she say to you about her?’

‘Nothing. I don’t think she ever spoke of her.’

‘What did Charles Prophet say about her?’

‘Can’t remember him saying anything in particular. But I don’t think he cared for her.’

Angel pursed his lips.

‘And I didn’t care for her,’ she added. ‘I can tell you.’

Angel nodded. He understood why.

It was ten o’clock.

Angel passed the open CID-room door on his way up the corridor to his office.

Ahmed saw him and called out: ‘Good morning, sir.’

‘Good morning, Ahmed,’ Angel said without even glancing back. ‘Have you heard from Newcastle about that address?’

‘Yes, sir. Been looking out for you, sir,’ he said, carrying a newspaper. ‘There are a couple of things.’

‘Come into my office, then. What’s up?’

Angel opened the door and Ahmed followed him in.

‘The address National Insurance have for Simon Spencer is 212 Huddersfield Road.’

‘Right, Ahmed. That’s good. Tell Scrivens I want to see him urgently, will you?’

‘Yes, sir. And I’ve brought this to show you,’ he said, unfolding the paper and putting it on the desk in front of him. It was that morning’s copy of the South Yorkshire Daily Examiner.

Angel looked at it eagerly, his eyebrows raised.

‘Ah!’ he said. ‘Mmmm. Done us proud. The front page. Couldn’t be better.’

The headline read: ‘Rubbish Skip Murder. Police completely baffled.’

Angel smiled and quickly read the item about Harry Harrison’s body being found in the skip and that he had been discovered hiding out in flat number twenty, Mansion Hill.

He smiled and put the paper down. He was as chuffed as a serial murderer let off with an ASBO.

He rubbed his chin.

He turned to Ahmed. ‘While I remember, I want you to go through back copies of Police Review also into the NPC and see if there are any women who have been released from prison in the last three months. They may have served time for fraud, and aiding and abetting fraud. Particularly, also, if they are known to have carried handguns. All right?’

‘There shouldn’t be many, sir,’ Ahmed said.

Angel wrinkled his nose. ‘I only want one,’ he bawled. ‘One’s enough!’

‘Right, sir,’ Ahmed said and turned to go.

‘Hang on, son. There’s summat else. I want a meeting of all CID on duty, in the briefing office at 16.00 hours today. DS Crisp already knows, so you needn’t bother him. But spread the word. Don’t miss anybody.’

‘Right, sir.’

‘And I’m expecting an Albert Amersham anytime now. He’s a witness. When he comes, will you show him in here?’

‘I got your message that you wanted to see me. I was fair worried. I never been into a police station afore, much less into an office. I’m a reight careful driver. I hope I haven’t been breaking any laws or anything. And my car is regularly serviced and kept safe. Well, it has to be. You know that. Else I wouldn’t get my licence.’

‘It’s nothing to worry about. Please sit down, Mr Amersham,’ Angel said. ‘Thank you for coming in so promptly.’

‘Aye. Ta,’ he said and looked round the little office. ‘It’s a darn sight posher than our dispatcher’s office, I can tell you.’

‘Yes. You work for A1 Taxis as a driver, don’t you? Tell me about being sent to twenty-two Creesforth Road on Monday afternoon, please.’

‘Well, let’s see. I’d just taken a fare to the railway station to catch the 13.48 to Leeds when it came up on the RT to go to Wells Street Baths to pick up a fare for Creesforth.’

‘What was your dispatcher’s name?’

‘Mmmm. Monday afternoon. It’d be Maisie. That’s all I know her by.’

‘What time would that be, Mr Amersham?’

‘Well they were only just in time for the train. I saw the train leave, so it would be a few minutes to two o’clock. Say five to two. I wasn’t late. I belted across town, down Wath Road, left onto to Wells Road and up to the entrance of the baths. And there she was, Lady Blessington.’

‘And how did you know her name was … Lady Blessington?’

‘ ’Cos she told me, when we got to Creesforth Road. Made a point of it, she did.’

‘And where was she waiting exactly?’

‘On the steps that lead into the baths.’

‘Did you think she’d just come out of the baths then?’

‘I suppose so. Niver thought about it. It was just that Maisie had said that that was where I was to pick her up from.’

‘What did Lady Blessington say to you? Can you remember?’

‘The usual. Just chatter, you know. The weather. It was a beautiful day. It was boiling hot.’

‘Did she have any luggage?’

‘She didn’t have no big luggage. No suitcases or anything like that. Just a handbag, I think. I’m not sure.’

‘Did you consider, that if she had been for a swim, she would have needed a towel and a swimsuit at the very least?’

Bert Amersham looked at him and blinked.

‘I niver give it a thought, Inspector. I just drive a motor. I don’t think about….’

‘Well, did she have a bag large enough to carry, say a medium-sized towel and a swimming costume?’

‘I suppose they don’t take up that much room. She probably had a bag that big, I am not sure, Inspector. Sorry and all that. I remember she had a handbag. She kept her money in a handbag. I remember that. Yes. I remember that I heard it click when she closed it after she paid me.’

He sighed. ‘That’s all right. Now did Lady Blessington have any particular mannerism or did she behave in any way unusual?’

‘We get all sorts, Inspector. All our customers are all different. She was as normal as any of them.’

‘We believe that she murdered the householder, a blind lady, Mr Amersham. I am desperate to find her. You may have seen or heard something that could give me a clue as to where we might find her.’

‘Wow! I didn’t realize. That’s a rum do.’

‘Anything else you can tell me? Did she smell of anything? Did she smoke? Did she speak with an unusual accent? Did you notice any scars or marks on her face, hands or legs?’

‘No, Inspector. I don’t think so. None of those things. Her dress came down nearly to ground and I thought that was a bit unusual, but then again, we get all sorts.’

‘You wanted me, sir,’ Scrivens said.

‘Yes, Ted. Come in. Close the door,’ Angel said. ‘There’s a retired bank clerk, Simon Spencer. He’s retired early. Very early. Too early! There is evidence to suggest that before he left, he got his money mixed up with the Northern Bank’s. Now there’s no proof yet, just a load of circumstantial. So I need you to tread carefully. The current address National Insurance have for him is 212 Huddersfield Road. Will you nip up there and ask him to be kind enough to accompany you back here to assist us with our inquiries?’