by John Gardner
‘Yeah, I’ve got Identity Cards in that name. You’ll probly have to let Golly jump you, Queenie.’
‘My pleasure. He’s a creepy little beggar, but I like weirdoes.’
Chapter Fourteen
Tommy talked with Dennis Free for over half-an-hour, having a good look at the double-barrelled Purdey shotgun: 12-bore with live cartridges in the breech and a lot of mud over the barrels and stock.
‘You’ll not get any prints off this,’ he told Dennis, who nodded in agreement because he’d said the same thing to Molly when they fished it out of the ditch.
‘You reckon he loaded it again before he left Knights Cottage?’
‘Makes sense,’ Livermore nodded. ‘In case he met something hostile on his way to the base, or to wherever he was going to be picked up — assuming it’s a male.’
‘And assuming he was being picked up.’
‘Naturally.’
Dennis said he couldn’t see a female putting the weapon to anyone else’s head and letting them have both barrels.
‘You can’t?’ Tommy coughed. ‘Not if it’s another woman? Women can be bloody cruel, Dennis. I mean in the right circumstances I could see Molly doing that.’
‘Molly’s different.’
‘Oh, yes. Oh, well,’ a kind of chant, amusing and musical if you liked plainsong. ‘The Doc’s taking this down to Hendon, I gather.’
‘Soon as I’ve done with it, Chief. We any further forward?’
‘Straws in the wind, Dennis. I may have to go away for a couple of days. See you later.’
Detective Chief Superintendent the Honourable Thomas Livermore made sure Peter Prime, with a spare revolver hidden under his jacket, round the back, stuck in his waistband out of sight, sat outside Suzie’s door, number 14, and accompanied her wherever she wanted to go. Even stood outside the Ladies while she had a comforting pee.
In the meantime, Tommy went back to his room and slaved away over a hot telephone, speaking to old chums, school friends, fellows now at the Home Office and the Foreign Office: one old mate who was in the government and another who was the overlord of travel. It was known as the old boy network and it worked very well for someone like Tommy who had chums in high places because of his education and the fact that he was first son of the Earl and Countess of Kingscote. Didn’t approve of it really, but it came in handy at a time like this. Last of all he called Freddy Ascoli, who had got back to Montpelier Square and grumbled about the journey, but finally co-operated with everything Tommy asked him, which, on the surface, was nothing of great moment.
He finally put the telephone down and it rang immediately: the Deputy Assistant Commissioner (Crime) said, ‘Tommy, you’ve been stirring up a mare’s nest. The Commissioner’s been bending my ear something horrible. You’re in hot water.’
‘Arthur, nice to hear from you. So what’s new?’
‘There’s been a complaint against you by Detective Chief Inspector Tait. CID King’s Lynn.’
‘Yes, I know what he is, a right grumble. He’s the one in trouble.’
‘He admits he made some errors in his part of your current investigation, Tommy. But he’s claiming that you tore a strip off him in front of your DS. He seems to think it’s worse because your DS is a woman.’
‘Silly sod.’
‘I should think you’re guilty as charged old boy. Tait appears to have rung Harold Brew in Norwich. Brew knows what’s what. Told him to ring the Commissioner.’
‘Didn’t want to clash with me.’
‘Probably not, but consider yourself in the old boiling water.’
‘With a dash of hot lemon-scented oil. That it? That the end?’
‘I spoke on your behalf, Tommy. Think I’ve kept them off your back for the time being. You know part of the trouble is that all these people’re older than you. They see you in an exalted position and say to themselves, Tommy bloody Livermore? How’s he got up there, top of the ladder? Must be his pa.’
‘Well, you tell them, old sport. Clean living, pure mind and a healthy body.’
‘I did.’
‘Good of you, Arthur.’
‘They’re still rolling around with mirth.’
‘Glad you called, Arthur, I wanted a word: favour actually.’
‘Yes?’ Drawn out, a tincture of suspicion. The Deputy Assistant Commissioner was wary of Tommy asking for favours, like Greeks bearing gifts.
‘I have to go away for a couple of days.’
‘Somewhere nice?’
Tommy told him and he squawked, ‘Jesus Christ, Tom?’
‘It’s okay, I’ve cleared it all down the line.’
‘Except with me.’
‘Technicality, old love. Now, you know that bastard Golly Goldfinch is on the run.’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘While I’m away I need four extra bods.’
‘What the hell for, Tom?’
‘Keep an eye on my DS. Babysit her in London.’
‘Can’t she stay up there, Norfolk? You’ve got almost your whole team with you. Can’t they…?’
‘No. Up here’s dangerous. I’d say Goldfinch is still around up here. In fact…’ Tommy realized who the blonde could be: the perky little blonde whom they’d spotted coming out of the Falcon. Moment of truth. Maybe it was her, on the wanted list, photo and all. But the hair was different and she wasn’t as solid as he remembered her: only seen her the once in an ID parade. Then she was definitely blocky, big shoulders; but people change, maybe she’d won back the trim figure. Possibly? Was it? Uncertain.
‘Can do, Arthur?’ he asked.
‘I suppose. We’re hard stretched, but yes, okay.’
‘Thanks old boy, I’ll be in touch. I’m bringing her up Sunday, so if you can let me know who’s going to do it I’ll see them at Suzie’s flat in Upper St Martin’s around ten in the morning. You’ve got her address.’
‘Bags of time then,’ said the Deputy Assistant Commissioner, sounding uncertain and quite twitchy.
‘Good show.’ Tommy signed off.
One more call, this time to the recently promoted Shirley Cox, on the Reserve Squad and at the Yard, old friend of Suzie’s from Camford days. Shirley was more than delighted when he told her she’d be staying with Suzie for a few days the following week. ‘Have lots of girlish chats, eh?’
Now, he thought, one more interview tonight then he could speak to the girls and boys, tell ’em what was what, so he went in search of Molly, who, by then, had returned from the hedging and ditching operation.
‘How’d it go then, Moll? How’d it go with the Provost Marshal?’
‘He was a trifle miffed, Chief. Didn’t like the idea of his blokes being out twenty-four hours a day looking after the hole in the fence for the foreseeable.’
‘Shouldn’t have joined, heart.’
‘Agreed in the end. No problem.’
‘Then you must’ve used your feminine wiles and convinced him of the necessity of keeping an eye on the spot.’
‘I pointed out that we were allies in a great cause for the common good of the world. Quite Churchillian I got, Chief.’ She gave a winning smile. ‘I also promised him a dance tonight.’
‘Ah, thought you’d have asked young Trevor Skeggs to the hop, heart.’
‘He was only a one-day stand, Chief. Not for the duration. Have to think about the morale of people like Brian. Trevor’s only for practice.’
‘Quite the little hussy.’
True praise, she thought, then Tommy said: ‘Well done, Moll. Now, I want to see that local PC. What’s his name, Titcombe?’
‘Call him Wally and he’ll be your friend for life.’
‘Thought he was causing you little problems, horning in on the cerebral detective work.’
‘You have to know how to handle him, Chief.’
‘And how’s that?’
‘With a chair and a whip, sir.’
‘Show him who’s boss, eh?’
‘Don’t think you’ll have any troub
le, Chief. When do you want him?’
‘Yesterday. Keep everyone close, Moll, I’ll want to talk to the whole team after I’ve finished with Titcombe.’
Walter Titcombe seemed to fill the whole of Tommy’s bedroom: in an enclosed space PC 478 could be intimidating what with his height, the broad shoulders, florid face and bellicose moustache with the spiked waxed ends, take your eye out if you weren’t careful.
‘Sit down, Wally, nice to see you,’ Tommy at his most languid, which made Suzie and Molly, sit up. Languid equalled dangerous: they knew that.
‘Thank you, sir. I will, sir.’ Gruff voice, part military, part Three Nuns Tobacco.
‘Smoke if you like.’
‘Well, I do, sir, but I’ll wait if I may. Smoke a pipe and it soon builds up.’
‘Low cloud base, eh?’ Pause to collect his thoughts. ‘Wally, old thing, need to pick your brains. If you want local knowledge, you go to the local man, the one they talk to.’ A bit loud, playing the silly ass.
‘Pick away, sir.’ A shade too simple; a little too intimate.
‘The late Max Ascoli’s brother, Wally?’
Blank. He was very good, Tommy considered, not even a blink deep in the eyes: no shift behind the pupils. ‘The brother, sir?’
‘That’s what I said, Wally. Max Ascoli’s brother, Phillip, or Pip as he is known.’
‘Right, Mr Livermore, sir.’
‘What comes first, Wally, in your book, eh? Your vocation as a police officer, or some promise you made to a local gent now departed this life?’ Tommy was flying blind, guessing, pinning the tail on the donkey, as he’d describe it.
‘Don’t follow you, sir.’
‘No?’ A further pause, as though he was allowing the sand to resettle on the bottom of a rock pool. ‘There’s a strong rumour in the village that Max Ascoli had a brother; that the brother was a shade touched. They say that in 1938 Mr Max brought this brother, known as Pip to the family, to Taddmarten. To Knights Cottage. You know about that story?’
‘Yes, sir. Right enough. Village were agog. Heard the story many times. Made no comment, sir.’
‘And, as guardian of the law, you’d make a point of following up on the story. Yes?’
‘Yes, sir. To ease my mind if nothing else.’
‘And what did you find? Did you ease your mind?’ Like pulling teeth, he thought.
‘This would be in the autumn of ’38, sir?’
‘It would. Early September.’
‘Yes. Well, Mr Ascoli had been on holiday, sir. All of August, with Mrs Ascoli and young Paul — little lad he were then. They’d been in France, then Italy, I was told. Mrs Axton, who does for them, said she’d had a card. Always good like that, sir. Always sent cards to them as worked for them.’
‘And you got a card. Wally?’
‘I did, sir. But it was from Switzerland. Place called Thun.’ He pronounced it sounding the ‘Th’. Sun. ‘I was glad of that; glad they didn’t send it from France. Don’t like the French, sir.’
‘Oh?’
‘Nineteen hundred and seventeen, sir. I and a party of men had just captured a German officer. Near Cambrais I think it was. We was standing away from him, he wasn’t going to run anywhere. Glad to be captured by the look of him. Then a young French officer rode up, horseback. Saw the Jerry, took out his pistol and shot him. Bang, like that, no hesitation, took the top of his head off. Never liked the French after that.’
Get him back on track before he gives us the complete war memoirs. ‘And when they returned from the holiday, the Ascolis?’
‘I have to be careful here, Mr Livermore. Why I’ve been hesitant so far.’
‘They had someone with them?’ Tommy prompted.
‘They did, sir. Stayed some two, maybe three weeks.’
‘A guest?’
‘A guest, sir. Yes.’
‘You meet this guest?’
‘I did, sir. And that’s a problem because Mr Max introduced me to him, and it was his words that cause the trouble. I met them out for a walk. They were looking round the church, came out into the graveyard and I was wheeling my bicycle down Church Walk. Lovely afternoon. Real early autumn afternoon, trees just turning. That big chestnut at the corner of the churchyard looked a picture. Mr Ascoli hailed me. Introduced me.’
‘So?’
‘He said, “This is our village bobby. Walter — always called me Walter — this is my friend, Pip.”’
‘He called him Pip?’
‘He did, sir. Plain as day. “My friend, Pip,” he said. Then he said, “Phillip.”’
‘He refer to him as his brother?’
‘No, quite the opposite. He said, conversationally like, “I got a brother the same name: Phillip. And we call him Pip as well.’”
‘So, he was denying that this friend was his brother?’
‘I didn’t believe he was the brother, sir, no. There was talk that his brother was…well not quite right in the head.’
‘You ever see this friend again?’
‘I did, sir, yes.’
‘When was that, Walter?’
‘I saw him several times in 1940. Thought he’d come down to stay with the Ascolis. I think he was down again last year. In the summer, and I saw him four or five weeks ago.’
‘You spoke to him?’
‘Always, sir. Give him a little salute, like I do to all the gentry in the village.’
‘He walking out alone?’
‘No. No, he always had someone with him. Mrs Ascoli, or Master Paul. Two or three times I saw him again with Mr Max.’
‘And how did he look to you, Walter?’
‘Meaning what, sir?’
‘Meaning how did he look?’
‘To be honest, sir, he always seemed a little dazed to me.’
‘Dazed?’
‘Dazed, sir, yes. I’ve seen that look in men coming back on leave from the trenches in the last show, sir.’
‘Dazed?’ Tommy repeated.
‘Sort of not quite believing where he was. Like he’d just woken up.’
‘And this Pip, you really didn’t think it was his brother?’
‘No, sir. Not for a minute. Beautiful gentleman, Mr Ascoli. Terrible thing this, terrible.’
‘Yes, it is terrible. Walter, Sergeant Abelard here has taken down all that’s been said. We’ll have it typed up and I’ll have to ask you to sign it. We may have to call on you as a witness, if we ever catch the man who did this dreadful thing.’
‘I understand, sir. Be glad to be of help.’
‘Anyone else see this friend, Pip? Anyone speak to you about him?’
Titcombe gave a ponderous slow nod. ‘Numerous people, sir. Many said he must be the brother. Indeed I recall old Bill Treacher asking me, “Is that the Ascoli brother then, Walter? The one they say’s a loony?” I give ’em short shrift. Never believed Mr Ascoli could have a brother not quite right. Too nice a gentleman for that to run in the family. Now, Mrs Ascoli could be a bit sharp, a bit acid at times. But there I mustn’t speak ill of the dead.’
‘Of course not, Walter. Thank you very much.’ The hand went out, languorous arm, raised slightly to grip Walter Titcombe’s hand. Firm grip as the police constable stood and came to attention in front of his superior.
‘Well?’ Tommy asked, looking at his two female sergeants once Titcombe had left the room.
‘Loyal, faithful,’ Suzie said.
‘True, salt of the earth,’ added Molly.
‘But thick as a plank,’ Tommy didn’t smile. ‘Regimented. Only believes what fits, and always believes a senior officer, like Max Ascoli.’
Suzie heard Freddy’s words again. You’d have Max’s murderer if Pip was out and about in this country. No doubt about it. ‘You think…?’ she began.
‘Don’t know what to think, heart. But we’re going to find out. If it turns out that the guest was Max’s brother then a great deal’s solved, including the reason Paula and Thetis have gone off, lying low.’
‘I
f they have gone off, sir. We don’t really know.’ Suzie placating.
Tommy was silent, gazing into the middle distance, not looking at Suzie. Not acknowledging what she’d suggested.
‘Get the boys and girls together, Molly,’ he said finally, stood up and walked over to the window, looked down on the deepening evening shadows. He sighed, and Suzie looked at him with a sudden nervousness.
Then Tommy Livermore quoted Tennyson, learned in fear at his brutal public school:
‘Or when the moon was overhead.
Came two young lovers lately wed;
“I am half sick of shadows,” said
The Lady of Shalott.’
And it was a while before Suzie understood his indigo mood.
With the whole team assembled, Tommy spoke for around half an hour, there, behind locked doors in the privacy of his room.
‘Sarn’t Mountford and myself have to be away for a couple or three days,’ he told them. ‘Just tying up loose ends, dotting i’s crossing t’s. Going through what we’ve got already. You’ve just about wrapped up the crime scene, so I’d like you to get on with a door-to-door here in the village. Try to see most people. I want to know what they thought of the Ascoli family here in Taddmarten; I want to know any rumours about them; I want to know how they were perceived here, liked or disliked.
‘You should know that there was a rumour, circulating here in the autumn of ’38, and also I think in ’39 and ’40, that Max Ascoli’s deranged brother was here, staying at Knights Cottage. I have had one trained police officer’s statement to the effect that it wasn’t Mr Ascoli’s brother but an old friend of the family, coincidentally of the same name as the brother — Phillip or Pip.
‘You should realize that Mr Ascoli had a brother by that name, and the brother was certainly dangerously deranged. In fact another member of the Ascoli family has indicated that if Pip Ascoli was around we shouldn’t have to search very far for the murderer.’
He filled them in on the question of Paula Palmer and Thetis Ascoli, cleared up several other outstanding matters and answered questions. Finally he came to the form for tonight’s dance at the aerodrome:
‘I want you all to be there. I want you to keep your ears open, and stay off the booze if there is any. Listen to the chatter, file away any gossip — there’ll be locals there, local women possibly, and one or two other civilians. There will be some of our WAAFs around, and some of the Raff personnel as well. Watch your backs, do your jobs and I’ll be seeing you back here when I return.
