very important to him.
It was certainly not the main reason for his consorting with Stella. He did that for a change of company and, he realised, from a shrewd sense of survival. If Robert Benham was set to exclude him from the legitimate sources of information within the company, then Graham was going to have to build up his own underground network. And Stella, soon to take over as secretary to the new Departmental Head, would be an essential contact.
But, though he had no particular desire to capitalise on it, Graham recognised that her sexual interest was flattering and might, in time, prove useful.
Keeping his options open, he said that supper one night would be very nice, kissed her gently on the cheek and left.
CHAPTER TEN
It was not until the weekend that he began to think seriously about the murder. The euphoria which followed his decision about Merrilyâs fate had begun to dissipate from inaction. Also, Lilian was staying again âbecause sheâs still so upset over Charmianâ. His mother-in-lawâs presence was the reminder he needed of his intolerable situation.
And his money worries remained. A grovelling letter to the bank had bought time, but not a solution. So many of the familyâs expenses were essentials paid by standing order that, though he made himself unpleasant to Merrily about housekeeping and to the children about their entertainments, he knew that their actual savings could only be nominal. No, he had to stop paying the mortgage. And there was only one way to do that.
Murder, however, is easier in the abstract than it is in reality. Though the lack of repercussion from the old manâs death gave him an occasional glow of unassailable immunity, Graham did not delude himself that Merrilyâs would be as easily achieved. For a start, it had to look like an accident. And, since he knew that the first port of call for every murder-investigating detective was the partner of the victim, it had to be accomplished in a way that absolved him from all suspicion.
The more he thought about the problem, the more his respect for successful murderers increased.
He quickly rejected the devices recollected from his occasional reading of detective fiction. Stabbing with icicles, bludgeoning with deep-frozen chops, injecting air bubbles into the bloodstream and employing Pigmies with blowpipes all seemed likely to raise more problems than they would solve.
Poison, though . . . Poison did have possibilities. Not for nothing was it one of the favourites of the domestic murderer. Everyone ate and drank and, without resorting to the fictional hope of a poison unknown to medical science, there were an adequate number of lethal compounds around most houses.
Some research was needed. Graham went to the local library.
The girl behind the counter did give him a slightly odd look when he asked what they had on poisons, but directed him, without much confidence, to the SCIENCE section. Failing that HEALTH or HANDICRAFTS. Or she had a feeling there was something on famous murderers in BIOGRAPHY. Or, of course, there was the Encyclopaedia Britannica in REFERENCE.
Graham hummed cheerily to himself as he set out along the stacks.
SCIENCE proved unavailing. He fell eagerly on the Chemistry text books that were there, but they only glanced incidentally on poisons. Still, they did at least remind him of the little chemistry he had done at school. Maybe all those boring practicals hadnât been wasted. Maybe theyâd had some use other than getting him an O-level. Might be worth checking through his old notes when he got home.
HEALTH was also, perhaps predictably, unhelpful. There were plenty of references to poisons, but all concentrated on how to cure someone who had taken them. Which was the last thing Graham wanted to know.
HANDICRAFTS, he decided, had just been an optimistic guess on the part of the librarian.
BIOGRAPHY looked too dauntingly large a section for him to go through, so he
It was certainly not the main reason for his consorting with Stella. He did that for a change of company and, he realised, from a shrewd sense of survival. If Robert Benham was set to exclude him from the legitimate sources of information within the company, then Graham was going to have to build up his own underground network. And Stella, soon to take over as secretary to the new Departmental Head, would be an essential contact.
But, though he had no particular desire to capitalise on it, Graham recognised that her sexual interest was flattering and might, in time, prove useful.
Keeping his options open, he said that supper one night would be very nice, kissed her gently on the cheek and left.
CHAPTER TEN
It was not until the weekend that he began to think seriously about the murder. The euphoria which followed his decision about Merrilyâs fate had begun to dissipate from inaction. Also, Lilian was staying again âbecause sheâs still so upset over Charmianâ. His mother-in-lawâs presence was the reminder he needed of his intolerable situation.
And his money worries remained. A grovelling letter to the bank had bought time, but not a solution. So many of the familyâs expenses were essentials paid by standing order that, though he made himself unpleasant to Merrily about housekeeping and to the children about their entertainments, he knew that their actual savings could only be nominal. No, he had to stop paying the mortgage. And there was only one way to do that.
Murder, however, is easier in the abstract than it is in reality. Though the lack of repercussion from the old manâs death gave him an occasional glow of unassailable immunity, Graham did not delude himself that Merrilyâs would be as easily achieved. For a start, it had to look like an accident. And, since he knew that the first port of call for every murder-investigating detective was the partner of the victim, it had to be accomplished in a way that absolved him from all suspicion.
The more he thought about the problem, the more his respect for successful murderers increased.
He quickly rejected the devices recollected from his occasional reading of detective fiction. Stabbing with icicles, bludgeoning with deep-frozen chops, injecting air bubbles into the bloodstream and employing Pigmies with blowpipes all seemed likely to raise more problems than they would solve.
Poison, though . . . Poison did have possibilities. Not for nothing was it one of the favourites of the domestic murderer. Everyone ate and drank and, without resorting to the fictional hope of a poison unknown to medical science, there were an adequate number of lethal compounds around most houses.
Some research was needed. Graham went to the local library.
The girl behind the counter did give him a slightly odd look when he asked what they had on poisons, but directed him, without much confidence, to the SCIENCE section. Failing that HEALTH or HANDICRAFTS. Or she had a feeling there was something on famous murderers in BIOGRAPHY. Or, of course, there was the Encyclopaedia Britannica in REFERENCE.
Graham hummed cheerily to himself as he set out along the stacks.
SCIENCE proved unavailing. He fell eagerly on the Chemistry text books that were there, but they only glanced incidentally on poisons. Still, they did at least remind him of the little chemistry he had done at school. Maybe all those boring practicals hadnât been wasted. Maybe theyâd had some use other than getting him an O-level. Might be worth checking through his old notes when he got home.
HEALTH was also, perhaps predictably, unhelpful. There were plenty of references to poisons, but all concentrated on how to cure someone who had taken them. Which was the last thing Graham wanted to know.
HANDICRAFTS, he decided, had just been an optimistic guess on the part of the librarian.
BIOGRAPHY looked too dauntingly large a section for him to go through, so he
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