The Man Who Couldn't Lose by Roger Silverwood Page A

sort of spectacles?’
    â€˜From chain stores or multiples or even supermarkets.’
    â€˜Is it possible these spectacles have the properties of a filter?’
    â€˜These haven’t. The lens would have to be tinted or even dark, like sunglasses, to filter out specific colours. As you can see, these are perfectly transparent.’
    â€˜Have the frames been interfered with in any way?’
    â€˜No. They look as original to me. What exactly do you mean?’
    â€˜Has any hearing device like a hearing aid been incorporated in the frame?’
    Mr Rainford smiled and made a very careful examination of the two arms and the front of the spectacles.
    â€˜You can see that the surface of all the frame is in pristine condition. Just as it would have come out of the mould it was cast in. I have heard of special spectacles made incorporating hearing aids, but these spectacles are very ordinary. These have certainly not been adapted in any way like that.’
    â€˜Is the weight of them exactly what you would expect?’
    â€˜Indeed, yes. These are a little heavy because the lenses are made of glass. Most spectacles lenses are made from plastic.’
    Angel pursed his lips and rubbed his chin.
    â€˜Sorry, Mr Angel, I don’t seem to have been much assistance.’
    â€˜On the contrary, Mr Rainford, you have been most helpful. You have eliminated several possibilities. Thank you very much.’
    Â 
    â€˜DS Taylor from SOCO brought these in, sir,’ Ahmed said. ‘There’s their report on Joshua Gumme and the contents of his pockets in this EVIDENCE envelope.’
    â€˜Right, Ahmed,’ Angel said. ‘Thank you.’
    The door closed.
    Angel dived into the folder and scanned through it, sometimes stopping and re-reading parts he found pertinent. As well as particulars of the gunshot wound through the sternum directly into Gumme’s heart by a .32, there were details of abrasions in limited areas to his wrists and ankles, commensurate with him being tied to something with rope or tape of some kind. But there were no clues to the assailant or the assailants.
    He ran the tip of his tongue across his lower lip and closed the file.
    He reached out for the big, manilla EVIDENCE envelope containing the contents of Gumme’s pockets, and tipped it out onto the desk. Although most items had been dried out, everything in the small pile was a dirty colour and had the smell and appearance of rubbish from a dustbin. Angel poked about it with a pencil. There was a wallet. It was still damp. He opened it up. There was £400 in notes, some of his own business cards and a card about four inches by two inches. It was a religious tract. It had the picture of an angel on one side and the words ‘The Lord shall watch over thee and keep thee safe’ on the other. Then in pen at the top were scrawled the words, ‘Two million pounds.’
    Angel turned the card over, saw the angel, smiled and tucked it back in the wallet. The other items comprised a handkerchief, a small bunch of keys and some coins, but there was nothing there to interest him. He packed the stuff back in the envelope.
    He leaned back in the chair and rubbed his chin.
    The phone rang.
    He leaned forward and picked it up.
    â€˜Angel.’
    It was Harker.
    â€˜Mayfair Security Systems has just reported the triggering of an alarm system of theirs at Creeford Grange. That’s where the widow woman of your Joshua Gumme lives, isn’t it?’
    Angel jumped to his feet.
    â€˜Yes, sir.’
    â€˜The man said their readouts indicated that someone had gained entry by a rear window and that the intruder was on the premises still. I have sent Hotel Echo One and told them to approach with blues but no siren. Get out there.’
    When Angel turned the corner onto Creeford Road, he could hear a two-tone burglar alarm siren making a hell of a racket. He put his foot down on the accelerator and drove straight