3
IN HIS LEFT HAND
As he climbed the stairs to his digs, feeling a trifle more reassured at the thought that he now had the backing of the chief constable in his fight to get to the truth, Robert was halted by a shout from his landlady.
‘Mr Bruce!’
Looking down over the bannisters, he called out, ‘What’s up, Mrs P? Didn’t you get the note with my rent to say I was out?’
‘It’s not that, love. A Miss Gates wants you to ring. Ever so anxious, she was.’
Trying to disguise a sudden lift in his spirits, he replied as casually as he could, ‘When was that?’
‘A good hour ago – very urgent, she says.’
‘Did she leave a number?’
‘I’ve got it here somewhere. Wait a minute – here you are, love.’
He retraced his steps and took the note handed up to him. ‘Thanks.’ With slightly trembling fingers
