Without Conscience

by David Stuart Davies

  ‘And you can congratulate yourself that you’ve saved the taxpayer a spot of money and the hangman an unpleasant task by getting rid of Mr Harryboy Jenkins for us.’

  I winced. ‘I didn’t really mean to kill him—’

  ‘Don’t you worry about it, boyo. You did us all a favour. You have nothing to reproach yourself about. He was the lowest of the low. He killed two of our fellows and a man of the cloth. That’s what we know for sure and there will probably be more. I reckon you deserve a medal. That’s two killers you’ve brought to justice in one week.’

  ‘My God, yes,’ I said. ‘I’d forgotten about the White Rabbit for a moment.’

  ‘White Rabbit?’

  ‘Oh, my little nickname for Bernard France. How are things progressing with your enquiries in that matter?’

  Suddenly David’s face darkened and his whole demeanour changed. ‘I’m glad you asked me about that.’ He gave a little embarrassed cough. ‘We’re closing the case.’

  ‘What!’ I almost spilt my beer in surprise.

  ‘Well, we have the actual murderer – he’s lying in the police morgue as I speak – so that’s the end of the matter.’

  ‘But he wasn’t acting completely alone. We know the other fellow was aware of France’s actions – if he didn’t sanction them, he obviously approved of them.’

  ‘By the other fellow you mean Sir Robert Gervais.’

  ‘Of course I do.’

  ‘We’d never get enough evidence to implicate him – so, as I’ve said, we’re closing the case.’

  This was errant nonsense. I knew it and David knew it. I was about to protest but he held up his hand to silence me. ‘We are closing the case,’ he repeated softly but emphatically, adding, ‘on orders from above.’

  ‘Orders? What orders?’

  ‘I was called upstairs today. To the commissioner’s office. I was instructed to close the file on the investigation.’

  ‘But why?’

  ‘Because our friend Sir Robert is involved in vital work for the War Office. I was told he may have behaved foolishly, recklessly even, but he was not directly involved in the killings, and so we must … leave him alone.’

  ‘But he held me up at gun point!’

  ‘You are still here to tell the tale, so no harm done, eh?’

  ‘This isn’t you talking, David.’

  ‘Oh, yes it is. It’s me talking … under orders. It doesn’t mean I believe or accept what I’m saying, but I’m saying it because I’ve been instructed to do so. I’m no happier than you are about the situation but I have been told that it is the best for the country and for both of us.’

  ‘Both of us.’

  ‘Oh, yes. Don’t have any ideas of following this up on your own. You must drop it too. Those are my instructions to you.’

  I shook my head in disbelief. ‘Or else?’

  ‘Bull’s eye.’

  I could not believe what I was hearing. ‘So he’s going to get away with it. He’s an accessory to murder at least. Because of him two people have been killed.’

  ‘We have no proof. And if you found it, someone would make sure you’d lose it again. The matter is out of our hands now. Just forget all about the case.’

  ‘Because the case is closed,’ I snapped sarcastically.

  David gave me a non-committal glance before draining his pint. ‘I think we have time for another. I reckon we both need one.’

  While David made his way to the bar, I gazed around the smoke-filled room at the faces of the late night boozers, mainly men now, with their slack smiles and expressions eased with drink. Looking at them, one would hardly think there was a war on or, in fact, any evil in the world. They seemed to wear life so lightly. I envied them, but I knew that tonight for once alcohol was not going to make me feel any better. My body ached, my brain ached and I just wanted my bed. I went to the bar where David was still waiting to be served and tapped him on the shoulder.

  ‘I think I’ll skip on this pint,’ I said, unable to keep the weariness out of my voice. ‘I’m heading home for some kip.’

  My friend turned and gave me an understanding smile and a sympathetic nod. ‘OK, boyo. Sleep tight. Don’t let the bed bugs bite.’

  I gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder and made my way out into the cold evening air.

  The telephone woke me early the next morning. It was Susan. She told me that Peter’s condition had improved slightly overnight. This cheered me a little and I told her that I’d visit the hospital that morning.

  An hour later I was in Benny’s café passing on the good news to him and Rachel.

  ‘That boy has got guts,’ said Benny. ‘I knew he’d pull through.’

  ‘He’s not out of the woods yet,’ I observed with caution.

  ‘It’s only a matter of time. Mark my words, Benny knows. Now take a seat, I reckon the hero deserves a free breakfast this morning.’

  ‘Free breakfast. Now I’m beginning to worry about your health too.’

  Benny rolled his eyes and then pointed to an empty table. ‘Sit!’ he ordered.

  Strangely, I hadn’t really felt hungry that morning, but when the food arrived with its seductive aroma, I tucked in with gusto. By the time I’d finished and lit up a cigarette, I had a warm glow in my stomach and I was beginning to feel like my old self again. I sat back and idly watched the smoke spiral to the ceiling and tried not to think about the case that was closed. And then I found Rachel pulling up a chair and sitting by me.

  ‘How are you today?’ she said with a smile, squeezing my hand.

  ‘I’m fine,’ I replied, utilizing one of my pack of white lies.

  Her expression darkened. ‘I have some news, Johnny.’

  With a strange kind of intuition, I knew immediately what her news was going to be. ‘You’re going back home,’ I said.

  She nodded. ‘Yes. I know it sounds a little crazy, but suddenly I’ve realized London isn’t really what I wanted after all. The glamour and gloss are paper thin, aren’t they? Besides, it’s not the place, or the people is it? It’s yourself that makes life worth living. I think I was trying to escape from myself – but that’s impossible. Anyway, I’ve learned my lesson. Strangely it was Harryboy who taught me that lesson. I intend to go back and live a better life down there, down where I belong.’ Her eyes shone brightly and her pretty face was more animated than I had ever seen before.

  ‘I’m pleased for you. I reckon you’re doing the right thing.’

  ‘Thanks, Johnny. I will miss you. I think I was falling a little bit in love with you, you know …’

  I did know. The feeling was mutual. ‘That would never do. My life is complicated enough.’

  Her smile faded and she looked at me seriously for a moment before leaning over and kissing me hard on the lips. Then without a word she left me and returned to the kitchen. I glanced over at Benny standing at the counter. He twisted his fist into a thumbs up sign. That, I mused, makes two disappointed men.

  When I went in to see Peter he was propped up in bed half asleep, but, as I neared the bed his eyes flickered open lazily and he saw me.

  ‘Johnny,’ he croaked, his dry flaky lips stretching into a smile.

  ‘Hello there, soldier. In the wars again, eh?’

  He nodded. ‘But we caught that bad man, didn’t we? I was like your detective assistant, wasn’t I?’

  ‘I suppose so.’

  The smile broadened. ‘We’ll make a good team when I get better … When I get … You wait and …’ His eyes closed again and he slipped back into sleep, but the smile remained on his face.

  When I left the room, I found Susan McAndrew waiting for me.

  ‘You still here?’ I said.

  ‘I slept in one of the nurse’s rooms last night.’

  ‘How is he?’

  ‘The doctor said he thought he was over the worst, but it’ll take a while before he’s strong enough to leave’.

  ‘Poor devil. He’s been through a lot.’

&
nbsp; ‘What are we going to do with him, Johnny? We can’t send him back to Devon. You can’t have him and neither can I.’

  I knew she was right. We both had jobs which were unpredictable and involved working all kinds of strange hours. And mine involved crazed murderers breaking into my office and threatening me at gun point. This was not the ideal domestic situation in which to bring up a ten-year-old boy. However, I was also determined not to let the little blighter too far out of my sight this time. Knowing Peter, if I did, he’d only run away again.

  ‘We’ve got to keep him in London,’ I said.

  ‘Where? You’re not suggesting an orphanage?’

  ‘I am not. That’s the last place … It’s just that I know two spinster sisters who are about to lose a lodger and they may very well take kindly to looking after a well-behaved little boy. And I’m sure we’d have visiting rights.’

  Susan beamed and her tired face lit up. ‘Tell me more.’

  EPILOGUE

  Jack Jenkins came into the room to find his mother sitting on the sofa with an old photograph album on her lap. He pulled himself up beside her and peered at the faded snaps which were now turning brown. There were various pictures of himself and his brother Harry when they were very young. Mrs Jenkins looked up at her son and then pointed to one photograph which showed the two boys in bathing trunks on a beach standing proudly by a large sandcastle.

  ‘That was taken at Brighton. D’you remember? You were ten and little Harry was six. Look how sweet he looks. And happy. Strange, isn’t it? Looking at him there you’d never guess he’d grow up to be so bad, would you? It’s funny, when I think of him then. Y’know I believe that I cared for him more than I did you, Jack. He was such a sunny little chap.’

  Jack placed his hand on his mother’s arm but said nothing.

  ‘Something must have taken him and made him what he is … what he was.’

  ‘Well, it’s all over now, Mum.’

  ‘Yes’, she said, stroking her son’s face. ‘It is all over. Thank God. He’s got some kind of peace at last.’

  A solitary figure stood by the side of the loch smoking a cigarette. He was taking a break from his morning duties in the big house behind him. Although he missed London, he quite liked Scotland too. It had its compensations, he thought, as he ran his fingers seductively down the side of his kilt.