A Meeting of Minds by Clare Curzon Page A

moment that Childe would object as the
uniformed man climbed out of the car and at a nod from Beaumont strolled in through the open front door.
    â€˜All right, Mr Childe?’ Beaumont invited perkily.
    He had no choice.

Chapter Nine
    At Ashbourne House the Winters’ flat had been left open. As Yeadings and Fenner reached the upstairs gallery DS Zyczynski appeared, framed in the doorway. ‘I was just going to close up. Can I leave the keys with you, sir?’
    â€˜Yes, but don’t go. Dr Fenner would like a word with you. Sir, this is another of my sergeants, Rosemary Zyczynski, your daughter’s neighbour. Let’s go inside.’
    Z led the two men into a large, square room furnished as a lounge in peach, pale green and white. The sofas and chairs were covered in soft, ivory leather, their voluptuous lines exaggerated by the addition of shiny satin cushions – square, round and cylindrical with gold-tasselled bolster ends. At the two long windows on the front wall and a third on the adjacent one, swags of peach-coloured taffeta dipped with heavy, corded fringes. The matching curtains were looped back by thick, silk ropes.
    Fenner stood under a crystal chandelier, his lanky frame just clearing its lowest cut-glass drops. ‘Vanessa’s empress style,’ he commented with a little twist to the lips. ‘Some things never change.’
    Which included his austerity, Yeadings guessed. But at some point there must have been a break in it, or he’d never have become involved with Vanessa. The man obviously regretted that lapse now, perhaps was ashamed of the brief weakness. Yet could a little of the original tenderness remain? Perhaps there would be a chance to find out.
    He went across to look out at the verandah and nodded, taking in the stone bench, the tubs with twin miniature cypresses, bay, lavender, hebes and pungent-leafed dwarf chrysanthemums. ‘This was Sheila’s part,’ he said. ‘And where is the looking-glass?’
    Yeadings looked blank.

    â€˜There’s a mirror at the end,’ Rosemary explained, unlocking the window and stepping through. ‘There, before my balcony starts. Sheila had it fitted to the dividing screen, to double the garden effect.’
    He paced both ways, examining the pots and creepers, then peering over to get a glimpse of the arched pediment above the central front entrance, faintly smiling as if he recognised objects he was familiar with.
    â€˜This is her writing-desk,’ Z told him when he came in and locked the window behind him. He went across to open the lid. ‘Tidy, of course.’
    â€˜We tried to put everything back as it was. But we’ve kept her address book.’
    â€˜Yes, I suppose you would need to go through things. Did you find anything that could account for what happened?’
    Z glanced across at the superintendent. ‘Disappointingly little,’ he admitted. ‘But then we are hoping that any personal information will be kept in her laptop computer. Z, did you ever notice Miss Winter carrying one in from the car, or out to it again?’
    â€˜Yes, she usually had one with her. It was as much part of her as the business suit.’
    â€˜She was a power-dresser?’ Fenner asked, faintly smiling, but Yeadings was frowning over Z’s answer.
    â€˜If she nearly always had it with her, why was it left at the garden centre when she came home that last evening?’
    â€˜Possibly because she intended going out. She knew she’d have no time to work. And anyway on Sunday she’d be back in the office. That was the centre’s busiest time of the week.’
    â€˜That seems a safe assumption,’ he said, nodding at the girl. ‘Now you have only to find out where she went. And with whom.’
    â€˜Would you like to see the rest of the flat?’ Rosemary asked. ‘There are two bedrooms and a third which Sheila turned into her study, plus the kitchen