Unnatural Wastage by Betty Rowlands Page A

Ellerman through his teeth. ‘She was questioning the way the sinking fund is handled in the accounts. It was just nit-picking really; the stupid bitch always had to find something to complain about.’
    â€˜Could that be said about your differences here?’
    Ellerman was silent for several seconds. ‘Not really. I have to admit that she does know her stuff when it comes to accountancy; our differences were more about admin, how the department should be run and so on.’
    â€˜How well are you getting on with the new managing director – Mr Anton Maxworth?’
    Again Ellerman hesitated. ‘All right so far.’
    â€˜And Ms Tremaine?’
    â€˜Let’s say she was careful to keep on the right side of him.’
    â€˜Doctor Ellerman, I want your honest opinion on what could be a very significant factor in this case,’ said Rathbone. ‘Under the proposed reorganization of the company, it seems likely there will be changes in your department – changes which may mean some of the staff losing their jobs.’ He paused; Ellerman waited impassively for him to continue. ‘If one single person within the company were to be appointed to run the entire department, it appears that you and Ms Tremaine would be the most likely candidates. That’s right, isn’t it?’
    Ellerman nodded. ‘I suppose so.’
    â€˜And the loser might be without a job?’
    Suddenly Ellerman leaned forward and banged his fist on the desk. ‘It’s obvious isn’t it?’ he shouted, ‘All right, I did see her as a rival, but if you think I killed her just to clear the field for myself you can think again. I’m not saying another word without my solicitor.’
    â€˜What did you make of that, Penny?’ asked Rathbone as they made their way back to reception, using the stairs this time as the lift was engaged.
    â€˜Well, Sarge, the statements from the paramedics described the knife in Fenella’s back as looking “sort of oriental” and he quite likely overheard them talking about it.’
    â€˜So?’
    â€˜So he was obviously prepared to be shown a picture of it and asked if he recognized it, and his reply came out so pat it was almost as if he’d decided how to answer in advance.’
    Rathbone gave an approving nod. ‘Go on.’
    â€˜When you started questioning him about the cushions and went on to ask him if he or anyone he knew owned a knife similar to the murder weapon, he seemed to tighten up. Suppose he was lying and that he does own such a knife? He’s never attempted to hide the animosity between him and Fenella – in fact he made a point of telling us about it before anyone else did – but it was when you as good as suggested that with her out of the way the job was as good as his that he started to lose it. Even if he didn’t kill her, it must have hit him that he’s a prime suspect, which won’t do his chances of promotion much good.’
    â€˜Very well put, Penny,’ said Rathbone as they reached the bottom of the stairs and returned to reception. ‘I can see you weren’t deceived by the spot of flattery he threw in your direction!’
    â€˜I thought it was a bit pathetic, Sarge.’
    â€˜No threat to PC Dandridge of Neighbourhood Watch?’
    She gave a shy smile. ‘Definitely not.’
    â€˜Good. Now for Mr Anton Maxworth.’
    â€˜Mr Wilkins?’ The man stopped and switched off the machine with which he was vacuuming up odd leaves and scraps of rubbish from the paths round Sycamore Park. ‘Yes?’
    â€˜Detective Constable Haskins.’ Mike held up his ID. ‘Could I have a word? I was hoping to catch you yesterday, but you weren’t at home.’
    â€˜It was my day off and I spent it with my mother.’ Wilkins stared fixedly, first at the card and then at Mike, before saying uneasily, ‘I’ve told your people everything I