Reckless Endangerment(19)

‘Thanks, doll,’ said Miller to his wife’s departing back. ‘Now then, gents, what’s next?’ he asked, as he poured the tea and handed it round.

‘How exactly was Mrs Gregory tied up?’ asked Dave.

‘Now, let me see.’ Miller took out a packet of cigarettes and offered it to Dave and me.

‘No thanks, Mr Miller.’ I’d been trying to give up for ages and managed to resist this latest temptation. Even my old schoolmaster’s story of his brother’s untimely death as a result of smoking-induced lung cancer had failed to have the required effect. But at least I wasn’t smoking as many as I used to. I suppose that’s progress of a sort.

‘Thank you,’ said Dave, accepting a cigarette. He’d given up giving up. ‘You were about to tell us how Mrs Gregory was tied up.’

‘Oh yes. She was lying on her side and her hands were tied behind her, round her wrists, and there was another piece of rope tying her ankles together.’

‘How tightly was the rope tied, Mr Miller?’ I asked, bearing in mind what Kate Ebdon had said about the lack of rope burns.

‘Now that you mention it, not very tight,’ said Miller thoughtfully. ‘Not that I realized it at the time. The rope round her ankles was reasonably tight, but the rope round her wrists was not really tied at all. Sort of loose, if you know what I mean.’

‘What exactly do you mean?’ asked Dave.

‘It was more like two loops that had been tied beforehand and slipped over her hands and on to her wrists. I was able to slide them off quite easily; I didn’t have to undo the knots.’

‘Are you quite sure about that, Mr Miller?’ I asked. When we had examined the ropes, they had all been untied. If what Miller said was true, Mrs Gregory must’ve untied the wrist ropes between Miller finding her and our arrival on the scene. I made a mental note to ask Tom Watson about it.

‘Positive,’ said Miller.

‘And what about the gag?’ I asked. ‘She told us that she’d managed to dislodge it, and that’s when she’d started screaming.’

‘I s’pose that’s right. There was a bit of cloth on the floor near her head, so that’s what must’ve happened. It looked like a piece of a tea towel.’

‘What did she say after you’d freed her?’ asked Dave.

‘She wasn’t making much sense, but she muttered something about a man breaking in and tying her up. She told me the man had gone, but I had a quick look round to make sure she was right.’

‘And I presume he had?’

‘Long since, I should think,’ said Miller, ‘but he hadn’t half made a mess of the place.’

‘And you’re quite sure that she said the man had already left?’ said Dave.

‘Absolutely.’

‘Changing the subject,’ I said, ‘what sort of couple were the Gregorys?’

‘Normal, I s’pose,’ said Miller. ‘Kept themselves to themselves, if you know what I mean. Sharon’s away a lot on account of her being an air hostess, and Cliff’s an accountant, I think. He seems to do most of his work on a computer at home. And he certainly knows his stuff when it comes to computers. He fixed mine once when it went belly-up on me. Plumbers and computers don’t always mix well. You can’t fix a computer with a blowlamp. Give me water and pipes every time.’

‘Did they get on, Cliff and Sharon?’ It struck me that an air hostess and an accountant seemed a strange match. But it takes all sorts.

‘As far as I know. Mind you, they were an odd couple. She’s what I’d call a party girl. Loved getting around, so I’ve heard, but old Cliff was a bit of a stick-in-the-mud. He’d rather stay at home watching TV and making his model aeroplanes.’

‘Did they have disagreements about their social life? Or lack of it.’

‘I never heard them arguing, if that’s what you mean. Mind you, Sharon spends a lot of time away on account of her job.’

‘Sharon Gregory said that you and your wife were very good friends with her and her husband.’

‘Really? I don’t know where she got that idea from. We hardly ever spoke to them. We’re just neighbourly, if you know what I mean. Pass the time of day whenever we see them. The usual sort of thing.’

‘She also told us that her husband was a heavy drinker. Did you know anything about that?’ I knew, from what Henry Mortlock had said, that this was unlikely, but I was interested to hear if Sharon had ever complained that her husband drank to excess.

‘I find that hard to believe somehow. I asked Cliff if he fancied going for a drink down the local pub once, when Sharon was away, but he turned me down. He said he didn’t drink much and didn’t like pubs anyway. As a matter of fact, we invited him and Sharon in for a drink last Christmas Eve and Cliff only had the one glass of champagne. No, he’s not a drinker in my book. Leastways, not unless he’s one of those secret alcoholics. They’re a bit devious from what I’ve heard. I knew a bloke once—’