by Sean O'Brien
‘Oh yes? And you imagine I don’t?’ Mr Feldberg stared out towards the dim arcade. We could hear the entrance gates were being closed and padlocked for the night.
‘Someone tried to wreck the mock election by setting fire to the Memorial Hall. The vote had to be abandoned. David is suspended until further notice.’
‘Your Mr Gammon has already informed me. He wishes me to withdraw David from the school. I told him I have a lawyer.’
‘I’m sorry. I did what I could to get the decision changed. But I was in the minority.’
‘If you say so.’ We went through into the shop. He gestured me to a chair near his desk. ‘This is a game of some kind. And you think David is involved in this? You know him. Why would you think so for a moment?’
‘I promise you I wouldn’t for a moment think he had anything to do with the fire. Apart from anything else, it would be wholly against his best interests.’
‘And why would the police think it?’ The questions came steadily and with the same careful intensity.
‘Perhaps because it seems like a simple explanation. But Samuel, I’ve got something more to tell you. Rackham is trying to make David a scapegoat.’
‘For what, in God’s name? A scapegoat? You must explain this! How do you know?’
‘He as much as told me.’
‘Why would he tell you such a thing?’
‘It’s a long story.’
‘Tell me.’
‘I should have told you the rest before, but it seemed mad, despite the source.’
‘Never mind how you felt. What is the source? Tell me now.’
I described Carson’s letter. Mr Feldberg listened as though recognizing in its entirety something that had always been there.
‘I’m sorry. I should have told you about the letter before.’
‘Yes, you should, Stephen. And why didn’t you?’
‘Last time I came to the shop it was to tell you, but then I saw you and David and Rachel. You were teasing and joking, like families do. I couldn’t think how to begin. And I couldn’t face it. The letter wasn’t proof, though I believed it.’
‘And setting your beautiful sensitivity aside, were you also afraid?’
‘Yes.’
‘That’s how it works.’ Mr Feldberg got up and walked about, his back to me. ‘And is your Mr Rackham all-powerful now, so that he can instruct the police?’
‘As things stand he seems to have influence in the school and with those associated with it. When he claimed to have protection he was telling the truth. It’s not certain who guarantees his safety. But a man called Hamer, from the Security Services, I think, has warned me off pursuing Rackham. He threatened me.’
‘This Hamer, has he taken David?’
‘That I don’t know. I suspect not. He wasn’t very interested in David.’ I would not repeat Hamer’s comments. ‘I think if anyone has taken David and Rachel it is Rackham. And Claes Vlaminck. He was talking about taking action, making an impact.’
Mr Feldberg nodded. ‘Of course. Remember what I said about Vlaminck? And the fire at the school is his doing?’
‘I think so. Or that of his accomplice. It’s the school,’ I said. ‘Everything comes back to Blake’s. Its task is to survive. That is all it is for. Everything is subordinate to that.’
‘I know the English are mad, Stephen. I’ve lived among them long enough. How else are they to be explained? But are you now telling me that they are evil? That a boy could be sacrificed to a school? And his girlfriend too? Here and now? Is that what you’re saying?’ He got up again and began to draw the blinds.
‘I don’t know what I’m telling you. I don’t understand it myself.’ Which was not quite true. ‘It’s like a tribe.’
‘Believe me, I know about tribes.’
‘I mean that the school is not for anything other than itself. It might seem to represent money and patriotism, but if by some strange process those values and loyalties were taken away in the world outside, the school would simply recreate them more fiercely. It’s like Ulster. No one here really wants them or understands them, but they insist.’
‘I hope it’s not like Ulster. It’s more English lunacy, this tribe of yours. And is it yours?’
‘I’m a half-breed.’
‘So who will help me if you won’t?’
‘Of course I’ll help. That’s why I’m here now.’
Feldberg shook his head. ‘And yet, Stephen, you must forgive me if I wonder whether you can be trusted. Trouble came when you came. Captain Carson made a misjudgement – a second misjudgement, I should say – when he took you in. Captain Carson is dead. No good deed goes unpunished, eh?’
‘I’m sorry if it seems that way to you, Samuel, but it seems you have no choice. I am all there is, plus Smallbone.’
Mr Feldberg sighed.
‘Smales won’t help,’ I said. ‘As I told you, he’s following the only line of enquiry he can imagine. Anything else would be disastrous from his point of view. And Gammon has been given a convenient explanation for what’s going on, and he is afraid because he is the Second Master and will never be the Head if things go on like this, and he cannot separate his own interests from those of the school. As you can see, he’s not alone in that. David is a very small element in the picture as far as he’s concerned.’
‘An element. He is my son. He’s lost somewhere in this accursed city. I could go to the newspaper,’ Feldberg said, vehemently but without conviction.
‘What could you actually tell them at present? That you suspect a conspiracy? Even if you had more solid information the result would be the same. Because this is a backwater, a very large one, but still somewhere nothing is permitted to happen. You’ve read the paper. You know what it’s like.’
‘Yes, yes, Stephen, but I must do something. You are sure Rackham and that, that creature Vlaminck are behind all this?’
I nodded.
‘But why do they try to destroy David? He has done them no harm. Of course, I know the answer. Then these men will know where David is. And yet no one acts against them.’
‘Rackham has a protector. Someone important. Carson didn’t know who it is. Rackham knows something of value, something dangerous to this person. If Rackham is indulged in this way, allowed to cause trouble, he will continue to keep the secret to himself and his protector will not be put at risk or exposed.’
‘Would you make a bargain with this lunatic?’ asked Mr Feldberg.
‘No, but for me there’s nothing at stake. He has to be stopped. He’s out of control now. Even his protector must see that.’
‘But would they care? I promised David’s mother I would guide and protect him. And now this. If ever I desired power, it’s now. Come with me.’
He led me through the back of the shop and down into the cellar. He switched on the light. In a corner was an old wardrobe. He opened it and removed a section of the floor and took out a shallow wooden box, which he carried to a table. When he opened it I saw a pistol and several magazines of ammunition. He took the pistol out and offered it to me. I shook my head.
‘I can see you’re surprised, Stephen. I was a soldier. Soldiers collect things. As souvenirs if possible, but in case of need. A Browning semi-automatic from a dead German in the Falaise Gap. I suppose he had it from a dead American officer in turn.’ He sighted down the barrel of the gun at me.
‘Don’t do that,’ I said.
‘It’s not loaded yet.’
‘Sergeant Risman taught me that there is no such thing as an unloaded weapon.’
Mr Feldberg shifted his aim and pulled the trigger. There was a hollow click.
‘The Sergeant’s right, of course.’ He returned the box to its hiding place but he inserted a magazine in the pistol and brought it back up the stairs with him. He placed it in the pocket of the overcoat on the rack near his desk. ‘David would have stayed in the cadets but I made him leave, to have more time for his work. There was no war taking place, I thought. Clear
ly I was mistaken.’
‘You mustn’t think of using that, Samuel.’
‘There are other people involved in this who have no difficulty with violence, Stephen. They seem to enjoy it. They set the rules of engagement. You can go out the back way now. Let me know what you find out. I will do the same. Now you’re under an obligation to me, as well as your beloved Captain. You should forget any ties to Mrs Rowan.’
THIRTY-FIVE
I had to try. I went to a phone box in the marketplace. The light had been smashed and it was hard to read the number. The phone rang several times before it was picked up.
‘This is Stephen Maxwell,’ I said.
‘I warned you, didn’t I?’ Smales replied.
‘It’s not me I’m worried about.’
‘Sounds as if you should be. Who else is going to employ you now? Ran an election and got the school burnt down. That’ll look interesting on an application form.’
‘I’m ringing about David Feldberg.’
‘Where is he?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Then get off the fooking line.’
‘Don’t hang up. He’s in trouble.’
‘He will be when I get hold of him.’ Smales laughed.
‘I mean in danger.’
‘Ditto.’
‘I think Rackham and Vlaminck have got him.’
‘Oh yes? Where? We should pop round. Where have they got him?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Then how do you know they’ve got him?’
‘They must have.’
‘Oh, right. And have you any evidence?’
‘Rackham wants to hurt him.’
‘And can you prove that?’
‘Not exactly, but—’
‘Then get off the fooking line.’
‘Hamer’s involved.’
‘Never heard of him,’ said Smales, and hung up.
I set off walking back through town to the Narwhal. On the way I passed Claes’s shop. There were no lights on. I knocked at the side door. There was no reply.
The Narwhal was quiet, not long before closing. I rang Smallbone and told him to bring his van and meet me there.
‘It’s late, Maxwell. I’ve got a busy day tomorrow. There’s a stamp fair in Harrogate.’
‘Harrogate will have to wait. It’s urgent, Bone.’
‘It’s always bloody urgent with you, isn’t it?’
He turned up a few minutes later.
‘I heard about the fire,’ he said. ‘Someone’s dropping heavy hints. I dare say Gammon didn’t notice. Too busy sacking you.’
‘I’m finished, yes, but they can patch up the Memorial Hall. An old boy, one of the estate agents or trawler-owners, will write a cheque. Anyway, something more serious has happened,’ I told him. ‘Something else.’
He looked awkward at this. ‘Oh, yes?’
‘David Feldberg is missing, with his girlfriend.’
‘That’s very interesting timing. I see.’
‘What do you see, Bone?’
‘I see trouble coming my way with big boots on. I need to be out at church when it knocks.’
‘Why?’
‘Because you won’t let the authorities deal with it.’
‘Smales won’t help me. Quite the contrary.’
‘So you’ll drag me into it somehow, Maxwell. Even though there’s nothing you can do, is there?’
‘I can’t simply do nothing. I’ve told Feldberg’s father I’ll help. He’s alone otherwise.’
Bone shook his head. ‘You don’t really know why the lad’s run off. Do you? You might end up making things worse. Anyway, the girl might simply be up the duff.’
‘I think the pair of them have more sense than that. They have a lot to look forward to. I don’t think he has run off.’
‘I would, if I was in the shit like that. Gretna Green or maybe our old friends the Foreign Legion.’ Bone stared into his glass.
Don’t let me down now, I thought.
‘Tell the police,’ he said woodenly.
‘They know as much as they want to. Smales is looking for David in connection with the fire.’
‘Can you blame him? It looks very bad. You could understand him starting it.’
‘There’s no reason to think that, except prejudice. It would be completely out of character.’ Bone raised a hand in apology. ‘I think it’s Rackham,’ I said. ‘First he got him suspended—’
‘Or you might think David did that for himself.’
‘It was just a question at a public meeting.’
‘Context, Maxwell, context, as Carson would have been swift to remind you. The lad didn’t have to go there, did he?’
‘It was pretty courageous. No one else stood up like that.’
‘Or bloody stupid. Lacking in circumspection.’
‘You have to give him credit for caring.’
‘All right. Suppose I do. What bloody good has this caring done?’
‘So then the piano bursts into flames and everyone thinks he’s responsible?’ I said.
‘Well, you’ve got to admit it isn’t very promising. Most people would draw the obvious conclusion. My mother’s a good barometer of public sentiment. I know what she’d say.’
‘You don’t really think it’s him, do you, Bone?’
He shook his head. ‘Probably not, no.’
‘What would you do, then?’
‘Me? I wouldn’t do anything. You don’t know the whole of what’s involved, or who. But I know you, Maxwell. You’ll go blundering in. You could end up in the shit – I mean, deeper in the shit.’
I stared at him.
‘OK, well, as I say, I’d just tell the authorities,’ he said. ‘There’s no other approach. That’s what the citizen’s meant to do. Hand it to the experts.’
‘Experts like Messrs Gammon and Smales. But I’ve told you – it suits them to blame him. It covers the school.’
‘I sometimes think that bloody place has replaced the world.’ Bone finished his pint. ‘I knew I should have stayed in and watched Top of the Form the night you first came back. I just don’t like it when you lure me into doing the right thing. So what now?’
‘We need to try to find David and Rachel.’
‘Well, where would you suggest we start? It’s late.’
Lurch must have been listening. He appeared from behind the screen in the snug, a pint of mild tiny as a shot-glass in his giant hand. He took a sip, put the glass down, all the while staring impassively across, then took two paperbacks from the pocket of his parka and held them up to show the covers. A Sven Hassel and a Georgette Heyer. Then he finished his pint and produced a scrap of black lace and wiped his mouth with it. He gave a slow nod and a graveyard smile, put the books and the lace away in his pocket, finished his drink and went out.
‘Reddit,’ said Bone.
‘He was trying to provoke me,’ I said.
‘How? By claiming he can read? I bet his lips move when he wipes his arse.’ Bone finished his pint. In the bar Stan called last orders. ‘Time for one more?’
‘Shirley was reading those recently.’
‘Maybe they swap. Maybe Lurch likes a bit of romantic fiction in return.’
‘Oh, shit.’ I put my coat on and moved towards the door.
‘You’re on your own if you take a swing at him,’ said Bone. ‘I want that understood in advance.’
‘Shut up, Bone. Where’s the van? We need to get moving.’
When we got out on to the main road Lurch was nowhere to be seen. Bone’s knackered blue Bedford van was parked round the corner. The frost made it reluctant to start. He pleaded with it tenderly and then nursed it back over the main road. We left it next to a bombsite a couple of streets from Shirley’s flat over the old pub. As we approached, the building was in darkness. There was no one about.
‘Very select round here,’ said Bone. ‘If you’re a grave robber.’
‘No sign of Lurch.’
‘H
e’s probably gone home. He must live somewhere. Under a big stone in the churchyard, for example. Anyway, how would he know you’d be in the pub?’
‘Because it’s a fair bet I will be. Or because he was following me.’
The front door was locked this time. I rang the bell three times. No reply.
‘We’ll have to get in there,’ I said.
‘Oh, no. I draw the line at breaking and entering. I think I’ll go back and wait with the van.’
‘I need you here.’
‘I’m no good in a fight. Neither are you, come to that. Me mother would kill me if I got arrested.’
‘Look, Bone, listen. Claes and Rackham have been using Shirley. They’ve got her addicted.’
‘You what?’
‘And I think they’re prostituting her.’
‘Are you making this up?’
‘I wish I was.’
Smallbone stared out at the dark street.
‘But you’re talking about Shirley. I mean, she’s a nice girl. Everyone knows that. I mean, she’s not some tart off the docks. She’s Shirley.’
‘Claes and Rackham don’t care about that. She’s in danger, Bone.’
‘Can’t fookin have that. Right you are, then.’
We went over the double gate into the delivery yard, Smallbone wheezing from the effort. There were no lights showing at the back. The kitchen window was unlocked and we struggled inside, scrambling over the taps and the sink. Our attempts at silence should have raised the dead.
The whole place smelled of damp and wood-pulp paper. It seemed empty, somewhere made futile by neglect and disuse, like many another in those parts. A fire extinguisher stood by the door. It seemed unlikely to be required. The building itself seemed to have forgotten that anyone had ever been there.
‘Try the cellar. I’ll have a look upstairs,’ I said.
‘I don’t like this,’ Smallbone said. He sighed and opened the door off the hall. He found a light switch and went gingerly down. When he was out of sight I began to climb the stairs.
The two first-floor rooms and the bathroom were, like the corridors, piled with books and magazines. As I reached the attic landing I saw a faint light. The door of Shirley’s flat was slightly ajar. I stopped to listen. Nothing. I crossed the landing and pushed the door open.
