Brentford had gone with Jackson to the address of this anonymous
woman. As they reached the block of flats, music came from an open
window, Rod Stewart's Maggie May was playing, “Ah! This lady has
good taste in music, one of my favourites,” said Brentford, walking up
to the door, he pushed it open and held it for Jackson.
“After you Jackson, seeing as how you know the lady in question.”
“Well I don't exactly know her Detective, just used to drop Mr Henvey off.” was Jackson's reply.
They made their way along the corridor and up some stairs to the second floor. Jackson pointed to the second door on the right. They approached the door and rang the bell. A woman came to the door, “yes may I help you?”
“Well I hope so,” was Brentfords reply. “I was wondering...do you
happen to know a man by the name of Andrew Henvey, it appears
that someone at this address knew him well.”
“Ah!” replied the woman, “that would be my flat mate Carol, but
she's not here at the moment. Who are you anyway and why do
you want to know?”
“Well it's like this, my name is Detective Brentford and we have reason to believe that Carol will be able to help us with our enquiry into the death of Andrew Henvey.”
“Dead! But how?” the woman looked distraught and said she needed to
“It appears that Mr Henvey was discovered with a knife through his
“Please do come in Detective, I don't know how Carol is going to
take this news, she was very fond of him.”
“Did she know that Andrew Henvey was a married man?” asked Brenford.
“Yes she did, but his wife didn't really understand him...not like Carol,
she lived with the hope that one day he would leave her and move in
with her, but he kept saying he couldn't leave, for the children's sake.”
“So where is Carol now?” asked the Detective.
“She's at work, she won't be back until about 5 pm, unless she stops
off to get some food in, on the way home.”
“So!...sorry what's your name?” asked Brentford.
“My name's Stella. I suppose you want to know where Carol works?”
“Well yes,” replied Brentford, “that was what I was going to ask you
Stella told Brentford, that Carol worked for a Car Assessor Company,
in town, as a Audio typist, the Company are called Belling & Hutchison.
“Do you know the place Detective, or do you want the address?”
“No that's okay Stella, I know the place. Well! thank you for your
help, we'll be off.”
“Okay Jackson, looks like we won't be taking you straight back to the
mansion, do you need to phone Mrs Henvey, or will she be okay with
you coming into town with me?”
“No that's fine, Cherish is driving the others back from the station, so
that shouldn't be a problem.”
It didn't take them long to get into town. The Company that Carol
worked for, was on the second floor of a big old Victorian building,
there was a lift to take them up, opening the metal gate, then the door,
they stepped inside. Jackson pressed the second floor button.
They stepped out into a corridor, which led to a door into the main
reception area, it was quite small and poky, there was a lady sat at a
type writer, next to a small table with a kettle on it and some mugs.
Beyond the reception, was another room with a lot of typing going on,
then to the right of the reception, another room, where the manager's office was.
The lady typing, stopped what she was doing and turned to the two
men. “Can I help you?”
“Well yes you can actually, I was told a lady by the name of Carol
“Oh yes...who shall I tell her, wants to speak to her?”
“My name's Detective Brentford and this is Mr Jackson. Can you tell
her it's urgent.”
“Why yes of course.”
Getting up from her desk, the typist walked into the typing pool and
walked up to Carol, who was typing away madly, with her headphones
on. “Carol...Carol! There's a Detective to see you, he says it's important
that he speaks with you”
“A Detective? But I haven't done anything wrong, what's it about, did
“No...he just said it's urgent.”
Carol put down her headphones and made her way out to the reception.
“What can I do for you Detective?”
“I think you'd better sit down Carol. I'm afraid that Mr Andrew Henvey,
has been murdered.”
Carol slumped down on a chair. “Murdered! But how.”
“Someone put a knife through his heart.” said Brentford.
“Actually Detective...now I think about it, it doesn't surprise me at all,
he was a man who lived a dangerous life, he mixed with so many low
life's...that even his wife didn't know anything about, I felt quite sorry
for her, he should have left her and come to me, I understood him better, than she did.”
“Well that's not really the point of my visit,” said Brentford. “What I
really want to know is, when was the last time you saw him?”
“We went out last Friday night, he rang me and said he wanted to see
me, we met up...had a few drinks and went to a night club, we called
a taxi from the nightclub, to pick me up outside his house.”
“And what time would that have been?” Brentford enquired.
“Oh! I'm not sure...maybe between 2 am and 3 am. Andrew was very
drunk, he told me he'd been out drinking all afternoon with clients.
When I left him, he was swaying a lot, but I wasn't to worried about
him, he often got like that, but always seemed to find his way to bed.”
“Well he didn't this time...did he?” said Brentford.
“Look Detective, I don't know what you're trying to imply, but if you're
thinking I had anything to do with his murder, you'd be very much
mistaken, I loved Andrew and would never have done anything to hurt
“Well Carol, I'll let you get back to your work, I think that will be all
for now...if I need to speak to you again, at least I'll know where to
find you. Thank you for your help.”
Carol made herself a cup of sweet tea, to take away the shock, while
Brentford left and took Jackson back to the mansion, leaving the Detective no closer to finding the person who committed the murder.
To be continued …..................