The Gigantic Shadow

by Julian Symons

One of you is kind and one of you is not.

  One of you’s cold and one of you’s hot.’

  Pine began to walk towards the door. If he takes another couple of steps he’ll be between us, Hunter thought. Just another couple of steps, that’s all.

  Pine took the two steps. He was saying something in that uncertain voice about his carpet, his furniture. He stood almost, not quite, between them. Hunter’s right hand moved to his hip to get his gun, and at the same moment he rolled sideways out of the chair, pulling it down with a crash almost in front of him.

  He was clumsy in getting the gun. Taken by surprise though he was, Brannigan was still too quick for him. At the moment that he fired Pine was still moving, saying something unintelligible. The words, whatever they were, were cut off in a scream, a babbling about God and mother. Pine staggered before he fell, and obscured Brannigan’s view of Hunter for three or four more seconds. By the time he had fallen to the ground, Hunter at last had his revolver out.

  They must have fired almost at the same moment, but Hunter did not hear Brannigan’s shot in the deafening roar of his own. He was conscious of an intense, searing pain in his shoulder, and of Brannigan standing there by the record player, with surprise and pain in his eyes. He squeezed the trigger again. The noise was like thunder in his ears. He had time to think how bad a shot he was and then, to his astonishment, Brannigan crumpled, clutched desperately at the sofa near him for support, and fell forward. Blood came from his mouth. The record was still playing.

  ‘One of you’s laughing and singing a song,

  And one just doesn’t make a sound,

  Oh, there’s one of you alive and kicking, baby,

  And one of you’s under the ground.’

  I hit him, Hunter thought, I hit him after all. There was a smell of cordite in the air, and somebody was crying like a dog. This crying was the last thing he remembered.

  Chapter Thirty-five

  ‘He’s coming round,’ a voice said. It was a voice he knew, one with disagreeable connotations. He opened his eyes to see, close to his own face, the fresh, eager features of Inspector Crambo. He closed his eyes again, and groaned.

  ‘You’re a bit of a hero,’ Crambo said. Hunter opened his eyes again in astonishment. ‘Do you feel up to telling me what happened?’

  ‘Brannigan was going to shoot me. Pine got in the way. I shot Brannigan.’ He struggled up to a sitting position, saw that he was in the bedroom leading off Pine’s sitting room, winced with pain.

  ‘He put a bullet through your shoulder. It’s not serious. Brannigan and Pine are both dead. You killed Brannigan. Pine died ten minutes after we got here. He told us Brannigan killed Miss Moorhouse. She’s down in the cellar.’

  ‘Yes. They told me. That girl I talked to you about, Tanya Broderick. The one who gave evidence about Bond.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘She didn’t want to be mixed up with murder. She was here just before the shooting. Brannigan hit her. She’ll talk.’

  ‘Good. Let me tell you now how the business about Anthea Moorhouse works out. Brannigan and Pine kidnapped her, killed her, planned to get the money. Actually got fifteen thousand pounds which Moorhouse paid over on our instructions. Notes had been impregnated with a chemical so that they couldn’t use them. We’ve got them back. In a cupboard downstairs.’ Crambo’s face was solemn as a poker player’s. ‘We don’t usually like people playing Sherlock Holmes, but as I say you’re a bit of a hero. That’s the way I look at it, the way it works out.’ Was there a peculiar emphasis on those last words?

  ‘But –’

  Through the open door he could see into the next room. Men were taking flashlight photographs, measuring distances. Flashlight bulbs popped.

  ‘Listen to me and don’t interrupt.’ Crambo’s voice was hard. ‘I said, that’s the way it works out. Brannigan was an agent for a drug distributing organisation. Pine was working with him. Anthea Moorhouse was one of the distributors. She’d become awkward, was threatening to give the show away. Brannigan and Pine decided she was dangerous, had to be disposed of. They arranged the kidnapping to squeeze money out of Moorhouse as well. When you found out about it, doing your Sherlock Holmes act, they were going to kill you too. Do you agree with that? Have you got any objections?’

  A sergeant appeared in the doorway. ‘The boys have finished now, Inspector. Anything else?’

  ‘No. I’ll be along in five minutes.’ Crambo was staring at Hunter. He repeated, ‘Any objections?’

  ‘I suppose not,’ Hunter said slowly.

  ‘If you have any objections,’ Crambo said, looking at his high-polished shoes, ‘it might be awkward for everybody. There are questions we should have to ask. About Westmark, for instance. You know Westmark?’

  ‘I’ve met him.’

  ‘He said at first that you’d been to see him. Later, when he heard that Brannigan was dead, he changed his mind and saw things the way I expected. Then one of my men thought he saw you this evening. Thought he had a bit of a brush with you in fact, outside a pub. You don’t remember that, do you?’

  ‘No, I don’t remember.’

  ‘Just as well.’ Crambo laughed briskly. ‘My chap thought the man he saw was carrying a suitcase. The money was found in a suitcase, I think I told you that.’

  ‘You did.’

  ‘But there you are, just a coincidence. That’s the way it works out, and it leaves you a bit of a hero. Don’t you agree?’

  ‘What?’ Hunter said. ‘Yes. Oh, yes, I agree.’

  ‘What are you thinking about?’

  ‘Brannigan was only an agent. Behind him –’

  ‘I know who was behind Brannigan. I can’t prove it, but I know. He was only a medium-sized fish. We’ll land the big one some day. Quite a flair for metaphor I’ve got, don’t you think? Would you call it a metaphor?’

  ‘I suppose so.’

  ‘You’re wondering why I’m doing this – adopting this attitude, I suppose an intellectual like yourself might call it.’

  ‘I’m not an intellectual. But, yes, I was wondering.’

  ‘It’s the easy way out, that’s what you’re thinking, old Crambo’s chosen the easy way out. But that’s not all it is, Hunter. There’s a lot I could make stick to you, enough to send you up for years, you know that, don’t you?’

  ‘I…’

  ‘All right, don’t answer, I don’t want you to answer. I don’t love you, Hunter, any more than you love me. But why should Moorhouse suffer more than he has done? Who’s it going to help if he does? There’s a lot that I know and can’t easily prove. And if I could prove it, what would be the use? Miss Moorhouse is dead. It won’t help anybody to drag her name through the mud. Is that what you want?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Let lying dogs sleep is what I say. Do you agree with that too?’

  ‘It’s not the usual way of putting it.’

  ‘Or you might say, a fool and his paradise are soon parted.’ If such a thing had not been impossible, Hunter might have thought that Crambo’s bright salesman’s gaze held a trace of something like pity. ‘You’ll have the reporters on your tail tomorrow, but for tonight I’ve kept them off. There’s a car laid on to take you wherever you want to go, and a chap on duty who’ll give you a hand. Your wound’s strapped up, but tomorrow you ought to see your own doctor, or go to the hospital for treatment.’

  ‘I will. And thank you.’

  ‘I’ll leave you with an old Chinese proverb. At the Yard they call this my proverbial mood. Those whose hands are twice as dirty as other people’s need to wash twice as often.’

  It was not until Crambo had gone that Hunter looked down and saw again the faint yellow stains on his fingers.

  Chapter Thirty-six

  His shoulder hurt, but he was able to walk up the stairs by himself. ‘It’s all right,’ he said to the detective who was following him, ‘I’ve got a key, I can open the door on my own.’

  ‘Sure you can manage?’

  ‘
Quite sure. Good night.’

  Anna lay on the sofa asleep, wearing an old dressing gown of his – she had always been too lazy to buy one for herself. Copies of women’s magazines were scattered round her, on the floor. The French clock on the mantelpiece said a quarter to twelve. He spoke her name, and she opened her eyes.

  ‘Bill.’ She sat up, shaking herself like a dog. The dressing gown fell open. ‘I thought you’d gone for good. But what’s the matter? You’re hurt.’

  ‘It’s nothing much,’ he said, absurdly heroic. ‘I was shot in the shoulder.’

  ‘Why, Bill. Who shot you?’

  ‘A ghost. A shadow out of the past I’ve been so busy running away from. A gigantic shadow.’ He felt weak, and sat down suddenly on the sofa.

  ‘You ought to be in bed.’

  He felt wonderfully weary, but he said, ‘I’ve got something to do first. Get my wallet.’

  ‘You’re delirious.’

  ‘Get out my wallet, I tell you. I can’t use my left arm. Now, you’ll find an envelope. Yes, that’s the one. With two air tickets in it.’

  She looked at them, and then looked at the clock. ‘For midnight. To Tangier.’

  ‘I told you I was trying to run away. Give me a box of matches.’

  ‘But Bill – oh, all right. I hope you’re not delirious, that’s all.’ He clumsily struck a match and lit the tickets. They watched them burn to ash. ‘That’s what it was all about – Westmark and all that?’ she asked timidly.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And now you’ve given it up?’

  ‘It was a pipe dream. I thought I was making a break with the past, but it was just a pipe dream. I was running away, but you can never run fast enough to get away from a shadow.’

  ‘So you’ve come back to me. Well, I’m no pipe dream.’ Her eyes strayed towards the box of liqueur chocolates, then she looked guiltily away. ‘I still don’t understand.’

  ‘That doesn’t matter. Anna, let’s get married.’

  ‘Married?’ She felt his forehead, her face full of concern.

  ‘You know you can get a divorce. Then we’ll get married. It’s what you want, isn’t it? And tomorrow morning I’ll ring Charlie and ask about that job.’

  ‘You’re running a temperature,’ she said decidedly. ‘You’d better get to bed.’

  ‘Anna, don’t be a fool. I told you, I’ve been playing round for weeks with a pipe dream. Now I’m trying to face reality, and I need a little help. Don’t you understand?’

  ‘Is that what you call getting married to me – facing reality?’ She reached over, took one of the liqueur chocolates, and settled at his feet among the women’s magazines. With a sigh of contentment she said, ‘I never knew reality could be so nice.’

  Inspector Bland Titles

  (in order of first publication)

  These titles can be read as a series, or randomly as standalone novels

  1. The Immaterial Murder Case 1945

  2. A Man Called Jones 1947

  3. Bland Beginning 1949

  Inspector Crambo Titles

  (in order of first publication)

  These titles can be read as a series, or randomly as standalone novels

  1. The Narrowing Circle 1954

  2. The Gigantic Shadow also as: The Pipe Dream 1947

  Joan Kahn-Harper Titles

  (in order of first publication)

  These titles can be read as a series, or randomly as standalone novels

  1. The Man Who Killed Himself 1967

  2. The Man Who Lost His Wife 1967

  3. The Man Whose Dreams Came True 1968

  4. The Players & The Game 1972

  5. The Plot Against Roger Rider 1973

  Sheridan Haynes

  1. A Three Pipe Problem 1975

  Novels

  (in order of first publication)

  1. The 31st of February 1950

  2. The Broken Penny 1953

  3. The Paper Chase also as: Bogue’s Fortune 1956

  4. The Colour of Murder 1957

  5. The Progress of a Crime 1960

  6. The Killing of Francie Lake also as: The Plain Man 1962

  7. The End of Solomon Grundy 1964

  8. The Belting Inheritance 1965

  Non-Fiction

  1. Horatio Bottomley 1937

  2. Buller’s Campaign The Boer War & His Career 1974

  3. Thomas Carlyle The Life & Ideas of a Prophet 1954

  4. England’s Pride General Gordon of Khartoum 1954

  5. The General Strike 1987

  6. The Thirties 1954

  7. Tell-Tale Heart The Life & Works of Edgar Allen Poe 1954

  Synopses of Symons’ Titles

  Published by House of Stratus

  The 31st February

  Anderson was a bored, unhappy sales executive longing for something to liven up his monotonous life. But perhaps he wished too hard because it was not long before he found his wife lying dead at the bottom of the cellar stairs. An accident of course - so why wouldn’t the police believe him?

  The Belting Inheritance

  When a stranger arrives at Belting, he is met with a very mixed reception by the occupants of the old house. Claiming his so-called ‘rightful inheritance’ the stranger makes plans to take up residence at once. Such a thing was bound to cause problems amongst the family - but why were so many of them turning up dead?

  Bland Beginning

  A purchase at a second-hand bookshop seems an innocent enough event. Tony Shelton hadn’t expected it to be anything but that - and he certainly hadn’t expected it to throw him head first into the world of violence, blackmail and robbery. For it becomes clear that the book has a rather higher price than he paid for it - a price that was to lead to murder..

  The Broken Penny

  An Eastern-block country, shaped like a broken penny, was being torn apart by warring resistance movements. Only one man could unite the hostile factions - Professor Jacob Arbitzer. Arbitzer, smuggled into the country by Charles Garden during the Second World War, has risen to become president, only to have to be smuggled out again when the communists gained control. Under pressure from the British Government who want him reinstated, Arbitzer agreed to return on one condition; that Charles Garden again escort him. The Broken Penny is a thrilling spy adventure brilliantly recreating the chilling conditions of the Cold War.

  Buller’s Campaign

  A powerful and invaluable reassessment of the life of General Buller and of the part he played in British military history. Beginning with his struggle for the position of Commander-in-Chief of the Army in 1895, it goes on to portray his role in the Boer War, and on its path, reveals many of the Victorian Imperialist attitudes of the day. A man of numerous failures, General Buller has been treated unkindly by history but Symons here seeks to paint a more rounded picture. Whilst never attempting to excuse the General’s mistakes, he portrays Buller as a complex and often misunderstood character and reveals the deep ironies that surrounded so much of what he achieved. An exceptional book and an outstanding contribution to military history.

  The Colour of Murder

  John Wilkins was a gentle, mild-mannered man who lived a simple, predictable life. So when he met a beautiful, irresistible girl his world was turned upside down. Looking at his wife, and thinking of the girl, everything turned red before his eyes - the colour of murder. Later, his mind a blank, his only defence was that he loved his wife far too much to hurt her.

  The End of Solomon Grundy

  When a girl turns up dead in a Mayfair mews, the police want to write it off as just another murdered prostitute, but Superintendent Manners isn’t quite so sure. He is convinced that the key to the crime lies in ‘The Dell’, an affluent suburban housing estate. And in ‘The Dell’ lives Solomon Grundy. Could he have killed the girl? So Superintendent Manners thinks.

  England’s Pride

  General Gordon, charged with the task of defending Khartoum, was stabbed to death on 26 January 1885 when
the Mahdi’s forces took the town by storm. Two days later, the Expeditionary force arrived to relieve Gordon but found the town firmly in the hands of the Mahdi. In England’s Pride, Julian Symons tells the story of the disastrous and tragic failure of this mission. Analysing events from both a political and military stance, and consulting a wide range of sources, he questions why the Gladstone Government had not acted sooner in the first place, and then, once orders had been given, what contributed to the complex chain of events that was ultimately to thwart the relieving force. Capturing in brilliant detail all the glory of Victorian times, England’s Pride is a vivid and dramatic book on a sorely neglected subject.

  The General Strike

  In May 1926, Britain was gripped by what became known as the General Strike. This downing of tools lasted for nine days, during which time it divided the people, threatened the survival of the government of the day and brought the country nearer to revolution that it perhaps had ever been. In this accurate and lively account, Symons draws on contemporary press reports, letters and oral sources, along with TUC records to provide an invaluable historical account of the remarkable event and the people and places that featured so prominently in it.

  The Gigantic Shadow

  Bill Hunter, TV personality, made his living by asking the rich and famous difficult and highly personal questions. But when the tables were turned and he found himself being asked about his own rather murky past, he wasn’t quite so sure of himself. Out of a job and little hope of finding another, he teamed up with the reckless Anthea to embark upon a dangerous and deadly plan that was to have murderous consequences.

  Horation Bottomley

  Horatio Bottomley was one of the most flamboyant characters of the twentieth century. From his inauspicious beginnings as a child in an orphanage, he made a series of extremely shrewd financial investments, went on to achieve Parliamentary success, and was reputed to have a mind to equal the finest legal brains in the country. From these dizzy heights he fell to sudden bankruptcy and the remainder of his life proved to be an eternal repeat of the cycle - huge success (he was nearly included in the post-war cabinet) to complete ruin. In this superb biography, Julian Symons brilliantly captures all the irony and drama in the life of this remarkable man, and creates a very readable, and all-too-poignant story of success and failure.