by J F Straker
David gasped. ‘You do? Then why no arrest?’
‘A good question,’ Hasted said. ‘But we have reason to believe that a second person was involved, and here we’re less certain. And to arrest the killer now would be to alert his accomplice. So we wait.’
It was, he decided, probably the weakest excuse for inactivity that had ever been offered. David seemed to share his opinion. He said brusquely, ‘And what happens if the killer disappears while you’re waiting?’
‘He’s under surveillance.’ Christ! thought Hasted, how corny can I get? ‘If he tries to run he’ll be picked up.’
‘I suppose it’s no use asking you for names?’ David said.
‘No use at all, Mr Doyle.’ Hasted stood up. ‘Thanks for the coffee. But it looks like we’re in for a real downpour. I’d better go before it gets too heavy.’
David accompanied him to the front door. Opening it, he peered left and right along the driveway. ‘Where’s your car?’ he asked.
‘At the garage,’ Hasted said. ‘I walked.’
‘Really? You’ll get soaked. Look at it.’
Hasted was already looking, surprised at the rapidity with which the rain had intensified. Mixed with hail, it came pelting down from the darkened sky, sending up tiny fountains as it hit the gravel. Doyle was right, he would certainly get soaked.
‘I’ll make a run for it,’ he said, turning up his collar. ‘It’s not far.’
‘Far enough.’ Doyle turned to an old-fashioned rack that stood just inside the door and removed an anorak. ‘Here! Wear this. It’s Andrew’s. It’s a bit lightweight for this sort of weather, but it’ll be better than nothing.’
Hasted left the shelter of the porch and broke into a run, head down against the slanting rain. Andrew was a big lad, but he was broader, and the anorak was tight across his chest. The wind was slight but he was heading into it, and very soon the rain had soaked his trousers; he could feel them sticking to his knees. Already there were puddles in the street, and as he splashed through them water came over the uppers of his shoes to drench his socks, so that his feet squelched as he ran. And presently he stopped running; he was so wet there was no point to it. By the time he reached the shelter of the garage the anorak was completely sodden, water was trickling down his neck and there was no part of him that felt dry. In the office he removed the anorak, revealing damp streaks on his grey suit, and spread it across the back of the solitary chair. There was nothing he could do to alleviate the damp discomfort of his legs and feet, and he went out into the workshop to look for Derek.
He saw Alice Mollison first. A small, dumpy creature, pigeon-chested and with fat legs, she stood leaning against a workbench. Her head was bowed, her face hidden from him by her long, jet-black hair, but sobs racked her body, and between her hands she held a handkerchief which she twisted and turned with a wringing motion. A few feet away, half hidden by a car, Derek stood facing her, his arms loose by his sides. He glanced briefly at Hasted, then returned to contemplating his wife.
‘What’s the matter?’ Hasted asked. ‘What’s happened?’
Alice looked up. Her pretty, rather chubby face was tearstained, the eyes red and swollen. ‘That—that woman!’ she gasped between sobs. ‘He—he was with that—that Mason woman.’
Hasted turned to Derek. ‘Mrs Mason?’
Derek nodded. He looked angry and disconsolate. ‘It’s all so bloody stupid,’ he said. ‘I was working on your car and—’
‘You weren’t!’ Alice shouted hysterically. ‘I—I saw you, didn’t I? Your hands were all over her, you—you…’
She dissolved into tears and started to hiccup. ‘I keep trying to explain,’ Derek said. ‘But it’s hopeless. She just won’t listen.’
Hasted put an arm round the girl’s heaving shoulders and eased her away from the bench. ‘Come and sit down in the office, Alice,’ he said gently. ‘I want a few words with Derek. Then, if you like, I’ll run you home. OK?’
Perhaps because of the quiet authority in his tone and a subconscious awareness of his profession, she did not resist. He led her into the office, removed the anorak from the chair and sat her down. ‘Why not freshen up?’ he said, pointing to the door of the small toilet. ‘You might feel better.’ She nodded and dabbed at her eyes with the handkerchief. ‘All right, then. I won’t be long.’
He went back to where Derek, plug spanner in hand, was staring absently at the engine of the Cortina. ‘What was all that about?’ Hasted said. ‘Or shouldn’t I ask?’
Derek shrugged. ‘You heard her.’
‘Mrs Mason?’
‘Yes.’
‘A bit rash, wasn’t it, sowing your oats in here? Couldn’t you find somewhere more private?’
‘I wasn’t sowing my oats, damn you, George! I was trying to get rid of the woman.’
‘You mean you haven’t been having an affair with her?’
‘Of course I have. But this morning, when Alice caught us, I was actually trying to break it off.’
‘So what happened?’
Cheryl had occasionally visited him at the garage between midday and one o’clock, Derek said, while Joe was at lunch. He had tried to dissuade her, realizing the danger of discovery, but she had not seemed to care. Then, last Thursday, Joe had returned early and had seen them together. ‘That worried me,’ Derek said. ‘I wasn’t sure he’d actually caught us in the act, so to speak, but there was an atmosphere. Know what I mean? And Plummer and Joe’s father are mates. They go fishing together.’
‘Tricky,’ Hasted said.
‘I’ll say! I spent the next few days waiting for the explosion. But either Joe wasn’t suspicious or he decided to keep his mouth shut. Anyway, nothing happened. But when Cheryl turned up again Saturday morning I told her it had to stop. It was asking for trouble, I said. And I sort of hinted that maybe it would be a good idea not to see each other for a while. Just in case, I said.’
‘Could you get on with those plugs while you talk?’ Hasted said.
‘Yes, of course. Sorry.’ Derek started to unscrew a plug. ‘Only one to go. Anyway, when she breezed in again this morning I nearly hit the roof. I was bloody mad, George, I really was. I mean, she’s an exciting person and all that. But I’m not in love with her, and I wasn’t going to risk everything for a bit of fun on the side. I told her so, too. We’re through, Cheryl, I said. For good.’ He picked up a wire brush. ‘That really did it.’
‘I can imagine,’ Hasted said.
‘I think she may have been drinking. I’ve never seen her so—so—well, mad, almost. There was that wild look in her eyes. You know? She started shouting at me, swearing, saying I couldn’t end it just like that, that she’d tell Alice, that—oh, God knows what! And when I didn’t say anything she went for me. Physically, I mean. I had to grab hold of her to restrain her. And that’s when Alice caught us.’ Derek gave a final tightening wrench with the spanner. ‘She was on her way home from the shop, I suppose. Came in to get out of the rain.’
‘The doctor mentioned something about an accident,’ Hasted said.
‘That’s right. Alice screamed when she saw us—well, you know Alice—and I sort of pushed Cheryl away and she fell backward over that.’ Derek pointed to a jack on the concrete floor. ‘The doctor thinks her wrist is broken. He’s taken her to hospital for an X-ray.’
‘Does Mason know?’
‘I suppose so. The doctor said he’d call in and tell him.’ Derek looked up from his task and grimaced. ‘He hasn’t been in to see me. Not yet, anyway. But then the doctor wouldn’t have told him how it happened. He doesn’t know.’
‘Mrs Mason might tell him.’
‘She might. But I doubt it. Not if she’s come to her senses. She’s not that dumb.’
‘Did Holden see Alice?’
‘No. I took Cheryl into the office while I phoned. Alice stayed here. I couldn’t leave them together.’ Derek straightened. ‘That’s the lot, George.’
He started the engine and listened to its
even purr. It sounded fine to Hasted. Derek lowered the bonnet. ‘Should be all right now,’ he said.
‘Good. Do you want to speak to Alice before I take her home?’
‘No. But for God’s sake, try to make her see reason. She might listen to you. I’m in real trouble if she tells her old man.’
‘I’ll do my best.’ Hasted got in behind the wheel. ‘Now you do something for me, Derek.’
‘Like what?’
‘Like telling me what you really got up to the day Mrs Doyle was killed. After you left the Falcon.’
‘I told you, didn’t I?’
‘You told me you went over to Corston to look at a car. Remember? Last Wednesday, when you were tinkering with Plummer’s car. Was that the truth? Because I got the impression it wasn’t.’
Derek grinned. ‘No, it wasn’t. That was for the old man’s benefit. I was with Cheryl.’
‘You said you were back here just after one. Were you?’
‘No. That was for the old man’s benefit too. It was close on one-thirty.’
‘Why? I mean, why did it concern Plummer what time you got back?’
Some nosy woman, Derek said, had told Plummer that around one-fifteen that afternoon she had seen Cheryl parked in a car with a man she was almost sure was Derek. ‘She was right, too,’ Derek said. ‘But I denied it, of course, when the old man tackled me. I even managed to sound indignant. I was back from Corston just after one, I told him. Ask Joe, I said, if you don’t believe me.’
‘Did he ask Joe?’
‘Trust him!’
‘And what did Joe say?’
‘He backed me up.’ Derek grinned. ‘Had to, didn’t he? Joe’s in love, you see, and he was due to meet his girl at one-fifteen in Limpsted, and because he didn’t want to keep her waiting he cleared off early, expecting me to be back at one. He reckoned it wouldn’t matter if the place was left unattended for a few minutes. But Plummer would have hit the roof if he’d known. So we agreed to scratch each other’s backs, if you get me.’
‘You’re an immoral lot,’ Hasted said, starting the engine. ‘No wonder my garage bills are so high.’
*
‘Do you think you did any good?’ Sybil asked.
‘I hope so,’ Hasted said. ‘She was certainly calmer when I left. There was no use trying to disguise the fact that he had been having an affair, but I think I convinced her that it wasn’t serious and he was trying to end it.’
Sybil sighed. ‘I wonder how I’d react in a similar situation.’
They were together on the settee. He leaned to kiss her. ‘Don’t bother,’ he said. ‘It couldn’t happen.’
‘I can’t feel any sympathy for the Masons,’ she said. ‘Neither of them. I find them singularly unattractive. As people, I mean. But the other two—well, I know Derek plays around a lot, but you can’t help liking him, can you? And although Alice and I have nothing in common, I don’t actually dislike her.’
‘She’s her own worst enemy. I know that’s a cliché, but she is.’ Hasted got up and walked to the window. ‘It’s stopped raining.’
‘I know.’ Sybil joined him and linked an arm in his. ‘There’s more to come, though. Look at that sky.’
‘Yes.’
They were silent for a while. She knew what was on his mind. ‘Why do you have to wait for Driver and Sergeant Dixon?’ she asked presently. ‘It’s your case, isn’t it? You’ve done all the work.’
‘That’s not true,’ he said. ‘It’s a team effort. Always is. You know that.’
‘All right,’ she said. ‘But that’s not why you’re waiting, is it? Not entirely.’
‘No.’ He led her back to the settee. ‘It’s just that I prefer to keep out of the limelight. People here are beginning to accept us. To them I’m not just a copper, I’m a member of the community. Or I hope I am. If possible I’d like to keep it that way.’
‘You are,’ she said. ‘You help with the Youth Club and the Cubs, and you play cricket for them.’
He smiled. ‘When I can. And when I’m asked. My cricket isn’t all that hot. But this is the first time they’ve had first-hand experience of me as a policeman, and I’d hate that image of me to stick in their minds to the exclusion of me as a person. I’ve had to be a bit terse with one or two people; Rory Bates still regards me as something the cat brought in. I’m hoping all that will be forgotten once this is over and we’re back to normal. It won’t be so easy to forget, though, if I’m the arresting officer. I’m not saying they’ll think any the worse of me. But I’ll be less like one of them, if you see what I mean.’
‘No, I don’t,’ she said. ‘I think they’d be proud of you. You’d be a celebrity. And what’s wrong with that?’
‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘Except that—well, make a century in a match, that’d be fine. That’s village fame. I’d like that. But I don’t want to be famous as a policeman. Not here. Not in the community. I don’t want to stand out. I want to merge.’
‘You’re daft,’ she said lightly. ‘You know that? I’ve never heard such rubbish. But I love you. You can merge with me anytime.’
He reached for her. ‘Like right now?’
She laughed. ‘Sadly, no. I’m taking the children out while the rain holds off.’ At the door she paused. ‘You’re quite sure you’re right, George? No mistakes?’
‘No mistake,’ he said. ‘I was sure before. Now I have the proof.’
Chapter Ten
He did not tell his father he was going. He had heard him talking on the telephone and knew what would happen, and he walked out of the house and got into the Fiat and drove past the Volvo to the Manor gates. There he stopped. Patricia Scott stood in the gateway, arms outstretched, and there was no way he could avoid her.
She came round to the near side of the car and opened the door. ‘Hello, Andrew!’ she said. ‘We’re back. Did you know?’
‘I heard,’ he said.
‘You should have come with us,’ she said. ‘It was great. Where are you going?’
‘Nowhere in particular,’ he said. ‘Just out.’
‘May I come with you? Please!’
He shrugged. He did not want her, he did not want anyone, but it made no difference whether she came or not. Taking his silence for assent, she climbed in beside him and adjusted the seat belt. He drove through the village and took the road to the coast and listened without interest or comment to her chatter about Cos. She had not particularly enjoyed the food, but everything else had been splendid. Most of the time they had spent in or beside the sea, or visiting other islands. ‘We did quite a bit of sailing,’ she said. ‘Or Daddy and I did. Mummy’s not much of a sailor. Neither’s Felicity. Her new boyfriend—he’s a policeman. Did you know that?’
‘No.’
‘Well, he is. He’s Mr Hasted’s boss. Superintendent James Hunt. His father’s a baron and that makes him an Honourable. The Honourable James Hunt.’ She laughed. ‘If Felicity were to marry him she’d be Lady Hunt, wouldn’t she?’
He nodded. He did not know, but it was simpler to agree.
‘Well, anyway, Felicity says he’s absolutely potty about ships and sailing. He has a boat which he keeps down at Chichester, and he invited her to—Andrew! You’re not wearing your seat belt!’
‘No,’ he said.
‘But you must! You’re breaking the law.’
Breaking the law! His lips twisted in a wry smile. How ironic if he should be arrested for not wearing a seat belt! ‘I should worry,’ he said.
That puzzled her. He could not be serious, not about something so reprehensible as deliberately flouting the law. She looked at him, wondering if he were teasing her. But the smile had gone. The rain had started again, and he was peering ahead through the droplets on the windscreen, his hands so tight on the wheel that his knuckles showed white.
‘Aren’t the windscreen wipers working?’ she asked nervously. Something had obviously upset him. But what? Surely it could not be anything she had said or done. Had he had a
row with his father? He was never very communicative in her company, but this was something else again. She had never known him as uptight as this.
It seemed an age before he responded to her query by switching on the wipers. But the sky was dark overhead and she wondered why he did not also switch on his headlights, as other drivers had done. She wished too that he would reduce the speed, which in her raw judgment she deemed faster than the conditions warranted. She recalled her father explaining why one needed to take particular care on wet roads after a long dry spell—how there could be oil beneath the wetness that could cause a skid. Did Andrew know about that? If he did he was ignoring it, for his handling of the car seemed instinctive rather than geared to the adverse conditions. Clearly his thoughts were elsewhere. But whatever it was that bothered him could surely not be banished by driving aimlessly round the countryside, as he seemed to be doing. They had soon left the main road, and as he switched from one by-road to another, constantly changing direction, she realized he had meant what he said about heading for nowhere in particular.
In an attempt to reduce the tension she said, ‘I suppose you know our house was burgled while we were away.’
‘Yes,’ he said.
‘They didn’t do any damage, though,’ she said. ‘Apart from breaking a window to get in. And there was no mess. The detective who came this morning said it was the tidiest burglary he’d ever seen. They didn’t take much, either.’
‘Some of your and your mother’s jewellery, an ivory chess set, and quite a bit of silver,’ he said flatly.
She jerked forward, to be restrained by the seat belt. ‘How on earth did you know that? Did the police tell you?’
‘I was there,’ he said. ‘I took them.’
Patricia was shocked. ‘That wasn’t funny, Andrew,’ she reproached him.
‘No,’ he said. ‘It wasn’t.’
‘You shouldn’t joke about things like that.’
‘I wasn’t joking,’ he said. ‘It’s true. I took them.’
She could not understand why he should utter such a preposterous lie, but she decided to humour him. ‘And I suppose you sold them, eh? To a fence, or whatever they’re called.’
