Authors: Roger Ormerod
There
was one hotel in it. There were also three pubs and seven streetwalkers, to my count, and it was obvious what business the hotel did. It had a narrow entrance in a tall building with filthy curtains, which occupied a corner where another, even murkier, street led off to obscurity. Round the corner was a public bar. I went inside the main entrance. There was a dusty lobby with one wall light, only just hanging on, and a tiny reception desk in the corner. Nobody was there, but they had one of those bells you bounce with your palm. This one made a dull thud. I hit it with my plaster and it rang good and clear.
A
man appeared. He had no jacket and wore an apron, and obviously had been serving in the bar. It was obviously not an occupation he enjoyed. He grunted.
‘
Lovejoy,’ I said. ‘You’ve got him staying here.’
‘
Have we?’
‘
Look in your register,’ I suggested. ‘Where is it?’
‘
God knows,’ he said, and went back to his bar.
I
went behind the desk and found it on a shelf beneath. There wasn’t anybody registered as Lovejoy. But of course there wouldn’t be. But I wasn’t going to knock on every door in the place, so I went out into the street and round into the public bar. I wasn’t looking for a drink, but Lovejoy usually was. He was standing at one end of the bar with a half of bitter in his hand and a look of complete misery on his round, pink face.
I
don’t think Lovejoy has changed at all in the past twenty years. All he does is buy a new toupee from time to time, as fashions change. This one had a fringe and curled under at the back. He looked like a plump and nervous teenager. He recognised me at once.
‘
Thank God you’ve found me, Mr Mallin. I’ve been going mad here.’
‘
You’ve got a drink. What more d’you want?’
‘
Who do I know round here? What’re you having?’
I
had a bitter and he repeated his. It was just like two old mates getting together, and nobody would have guessed that the last time we’d met I had given him a very unpleasant couple of hours at HQ.
‘
Not a very good idea, was it?’ I asked.
‘
You mean bringing me here?’ He made a disgusted sound, and he had the right sort of lips to do it. ‘I said it was daft. What’s so terrible about Dave Mallin finding me? That’s what I said.’
My
change in status was at once apparent. As a sergeant I’d rated mister. I let it go.
‘
That’s what we’ve got to find out, isn’t it?’
‘
It’s that Gaines thing, I suppose. I’ve already said all there is to say.’
I
finished off my drink. ‘Then I suggest you say it again. Where’s your room?’
‘
My room!’ He raised his eyes in disgust. ‘You won’t be happy there.’
He
took me through a door that came out in the back of the lobby, and we stood back for a big, brash redhead to support her man out into the fresh air.
‘
You can hear ‘em,’ said Lovejoy in horror. ‘Up and down these bleedin’ stairs all night. Giggle, giggle—slamming doors. Must be making a fortune at it.’
I
followed him up. The stair carpet was like a sheet of brown paper. ‘It makes you wish you could change your sex.’
He
looked back at me and leered.
His
room had the bare necessities for survival. He’d got a door and a window, a bed and a chair, and a kind of cupboard to put your clothes in, assuming you had any. There was a creamy, perfumy smell that increased when he creaked his weight on the edge of the bed. It had a tatty cover on it, not reaching the edges.
‘
It gives me the creeps,’ he said. ‘The thought of getting in that bed again.’
‘
Then why not shift? You can afford it.’
He
looked away. ‘It’s difficult.’ He was scared.
‘
It’s Finn, is it?’
‘
He said stay here. You know. Said he’d send for me later. How can I move? Go on, ask yourself.’
Carter
Finn generated a considerable amount of respect. There had been no difficulty spiriting Lovejoy away. But why? Finn could hardly have known that I’d learn enough from Crowshaw to make me want to see Lovejoy again. All he could assume was that I’d get round to Lovejoy in the normal course of reconstruction.
I
offered him a cigarette. ‘This Neville Gaines,’ I said. ‘He came to your place in the Stratford Road?’
‘Yes.’
‘What did you make of him?’
‘
One of these cranks. You could see it. Mad eyes.’
‘
Mad in what way?’
‘
Never keeping ‘em still. You know, all round the room, never looking at me.’
Not
necessarily mad, then. More likely interest; Neville Gaines in an environment completely strange to him.
‘
You sold a gun to a mad customer?’
‘
It wasn’t my worry, what he was going to do with it.’
‘
No. Anyway, he asked if you could let him have a thirty-eight automatic?’
‘
Very definite, he was.’
‘
Loaded?’
‘
Why’d he want a gun if it wasn’t loaded?’
‘
Ah… yes.’ I could think of an answer or two to that. ‘But he definitely said a thirty-eight?’
Lovejoy
shrugged. ‘Crowshaw asked the same thing. Yes.’
And
at the time nobody guessed that Neville Gaines already owned such a gun. So he’d asked for it in those words because that was what his own was called. It was probably inside the lid of the box he kept it in.
‘
Which you shoved under his nose?’
‘
Kind of.’
‘
Then what’d he do?’
‘
Looked at it.’
‘
Did he ask you how to use it?’
‘
Not ask,’ he said, ‘just sort of sat there looking all lost, and I got to thinking that more than likely he’d blow his own head off if I didn’t tell him something.’
‘
So you offered. What did you show him?’
‘
Which end the bullet came out, how to operate the chamber, where the safety catch was, what the trigger did.’
‘
So he was quite an expert when you’d finished with him?’
He
thought about that. Outside in the corridor there was the patter of urgent feet.
‘
I don’t think he knew what the hell I was talking about.’
‘
And he gave you the impression he couldn’t re-load?’
‘
I said I’d show him how to get the magazine out. He said it didn’t matter, and just asked how many it’d got in.’
And
you told him seven.’
‘
I said seven, and he said it’d be enough.’
‘
Enough?’
It
was a strange remark for Neville Gaines. Enough? Hadn’t he said something like that to Crowshaw? What was he imagining at the time, the slaughter that it turned out to be?
‘
And he asked me one or two other little things.’
I
didn’t remember any other little things in what Crowshaw had told me. ‘Such as?’
‘
How far away it’d kill a man,’ he said calmly. ‘Where was the best spot to aim for.’
I
drew a while on my cigarette. It was dark outside. Thoughts trickled along gently.
‘
We’re talking about the same person, I suppose?’
‘
They showed him to me. It was him all right.’
Then
what could he have meant? ‘He told you his name?’
‘
That was one of the reasons I knew he was potty.’
‘
And told you who’d sent him?’
‘
Yes.’
‘
And who was that?’ I asked casually.
‘
Drover. The chap called Drover at West Lees Farm.’
I
went and looked out of the window. The street was drab and poorly lit. A little way along and on the other side a fish and chip shop was open. It reminded me I was hungry.
The
chap called Drover at West Lees Farm.
I
had always imagined that Gaines would have had great difficulty in getting in touch with such a man as Lovejoy. Yet it had been direct and straightforward. All the same, even though it had been easy, why should he have taken the trouble at all? After all, he already owned a gun himself.
‘
You know him?’ I asked. ‘This man Drover.’
‘
I knew him then. Fairly well.’
‘
How?’
He
looked at his hands. ‘You’d better ask him.’
‘
Maybe I will. And it never struck you as strange that Drover should send you this man—this rank amateur?’
‘
It did, though. It did.’
‘
What impression did you get, about what Gaines was going to do?’
‘
It struck me he was going to have a go at blasting somebody’s head off.’
‘
So maybe you rang Drover, just to see what was going on.’
‘
How did you guess?’ His eyes were big and wide.
Because
somehow or other it had got back to Andy Paterson. Myra had said so. That was when Paterson had laughed.
‘
Lovejoy,’ I said, ‘they ought to take you out and string you up by the neck until you are very dead. Letting a chap like Gaines walk out of your place with a loaded gun! Damn it, it was… well, criminal.’
He
looked chastened. ‘If you say so, Mr Mallin.’
I
said: ‘You nip across the way for two packets of fish and chips. Plaice for me, if they’ve got it. While you’re away I’ll fetch up a couple of pints. Then I’ll run you back home.’
His
eyes widened.
‘
Finn?’ I said. ‘He’s not going to worry now. Not now I’ve seen you, and you’ve told me so much. You may as well be home.’
‘
I can’t see I’ve told you anything.’
‘
No?’ I said. ‘Can’t you?’
We made it in a little over an hour to Birmingham. It was getting on for eight o’clock. On the way I tried to pump him about his connection with Drover, but I got nowhere. I was becoming quite an expert with the gear change by then.
I
dropped him outside his place in the Stratford Road. Lovejoy struggled out, and we rescued his cases.
‘
Promise me you’ll tell Finn,’ he said. ‘I don’t want him thinking I phoned you. I do a lot of work for Finn.’
It
made a difference, being out of the force; people told me things. I promised. Lovejoy disappeared down his alleyway, and I went back to my flat.
Messages
from Elsa and Ted. Would Mr Mallin phone? Mr Mallin did.
Elsa
said: ‘I forgot to tell you about the buttonholes.’
‘
No you didn’t,’ I assured her. ‘It’s all laid on. Ted’s poised for the off.’
‘
It’s a funny way of putting it.’
‘
How’s the eye?’
‘
Not as bad as I thought. David, I just dreaded it. But I’ve got some covering make-up, and it won’t really show.’
‘
Good.’ I glanced at my watch. ‘I may have time to call in later.’
‘
Not if you’re too busy.’
‘
I’m not too busy.’
After
a while we rang off. I still wasn’t used to the phone at my right ear. It was hot.
Ted
said that Marjorie said for me to tell Elsa that there was a special make-up for covering blackeyes. I told him she’d already got on to it.
‘
When’re we going to get together?’ he asked.
‘
I just can’t say, Ted. But I’ll see you tomorrow.’
‘
If you can stop moving for long enough.’
It
was twenty to nine by my nice new watch. I had to cut Ted off or he’d have been on all night.
There
was one of those fine, misty rains moving in the air, enough to ruin the visibility. I filled the tank up and set off for Shropshire. It would have cost Paul a fortune, if he’d been alive. When I got there, the floodlights in the car park were cutting cones of light into the mist. The park was decided chilly. I locked the car and looked around. Early yet for the customers; only a few cars there, amongst them Karen’s Rapier and the grey Rover. I walked fast for the club entrance. Feeney was not happy to see me.
‘
Honorary member,’ I told him, and he nodded sullenly.
So
at least I hadn’t been dishonourably discharged. I looked at myself in that tall mirror I mentioned. The suit wasn’t evening wear but it was neat enough. The face was looking a bit craggy from Troy’s attention; I’d been too concerned about my hand to worry about my looks.
‘
I heard you had some trouble,’ I said, just being chatty. He raised his eyebrows. Trouble was something Feeney never had. ‘It’s been very quiet.’
‘
The police,’ I prompted.
‘
Somebody gave them some duff information.’
I
grinned at him. ‘People make mistakes.’
‘
Sometimes once too often.’
I
went in. The band was simply playing around, keeping the sound waves moving. I couldn’t see anybody I knew in there, so I went to see what it was like in the bar.
It
was a little busier. Through the archways I could see that only one of the tables had its nightdress off, and the croupier was so bored he was using English. Seven people were at the bar. One of them was Karen, perched on a stool and showing all the leg she’d got, and another was Troy, close enough to exude a protective air without actually being with her.
Karen
had a wine glass with a pale golden wine in it. She was wearing about two feet of dress in a lemon silky-looking material. There was a necklace of blue stones crackling round her neck and flopping into the cleavage. Karen was flushed and her eyes were bright. There seemed no reason for a flushed young lady with bright eyes to remain unescorted, so I slid on to the stool next to her and ordered a scotch.
‘
Well…’ she said. ‘David Mallin. You do get around.’ She giggled. Very slightly tipsy, I decided.
Along
the bar behind me a woman laughed with that empty vigour they use when a man tells them a dirty joke. From beyond the curtains the band was playing itself in with a rhumba.
‘
I’ve been getting around,’ I said. ‘But there wasn’t anything worth all the trouble it took.’
She
turned the glass in her fingers, eyeing it at an angle that made her mouth look sulky. ‘I got the impression you’re an intelligent man,’ she said distantly.
‘
Whatever could have given you that idea?’
‘
The way you manoeuvred Carter.’
Beyond
her, Troy was looking unhappy. ‘Five to ten,’ I told him, raising my voice and waving my left arm.
He
flexed his mouth muscles. The cut wasn’t too bad, I saw.
‘
You knew what had happened,’ said Karen, picking it up.
‘
The brooch? Yes. I guessed.’
‘
So you used it to get Carter to tell you to go on with the thing.’
‘
I’m in it for the money.’
She
caught the bartender’s eye. He was an observant lad; he ignored her. She turned back to me angrily.
‘
Is she still wearing it?’ I asked.
She
laughed softly. ‘Of course.’
‘
Risky.’
‘
He wouldn’t dare touch her,’ she said fiercely.
‘
Of course not. Not physically. Close enough for it to be exciting, but not close enough to be painful. But she’ll play it wilder and wilder, watching him get more and more mad. Then one day it’ll break out into plain, old-fashioned violence.’
She
was looking at me with her eyes smoking; warning signals away in the hills. ‘He wouldn’t dare.’
‘
Because if he did you’d kill him?’
Then
she smiled gently, pleased I suppose at the anticipation. ‘I’d have his eyes out.’
Ten
o’clock. In twelve hours I was due to be married.
‘
I’d like to be there,’ I said. I meant the eye thing.
‘
I thought you liked him. Dashing round in your little car, asking questions, getting nowhere on purpose.’
‘
I don’t think he wants me to get nowhere,’ I told her. ‘Otherwise he wouldn’t deliberately put obstacles in my way, knowing I’m going to clamber over them.’ I paused, took a sip of whisky. ‘With a little help here and there.’
She
teased me a bit with her eyes. ‘But you didn’t get anywhere with Mr Lovejoy.’
‘
I heard things I hadn’t heard before.’
She
didn’t look at me. A girl has to train herself not to appear too eager. I waited a long time before she said anything, then it was only: ‘Tony, let’s have another of these things, for God’s sake.’
‘
But they didn’t mean much,’ I admitted.
‘
The intelligent David Mallin?’ she snapped.
‘
All I can do is listen. There wasn’t anything there.’
‘
Perhaps you asked the wrong questions.’
‘
Obviously. What did he tell you that you thought I’d find out? What was important enough to send a young lady thirty miles to wait outside my place on the off-chance I’d call in?’
‘
It might not seem important to you.’
Tony
grimaced as he brought her a fresh glass. ‘What?’
‘
Daddy’s state of mind. What he was thinking at the time. Why he was doing all that. You know.’
‘
Why he was doing what?’
‘
Oh, you
can
be stupid when you try. All of it.’ The wine followed the rest. The glass banged down like a signal.
Down
in the gaming room they were working up to French. Trois came out as troy.
‘
You see,’ I explained, ‘all he was doing was buying a gun. He was a chap you don’t normally associate with guns. It was his first excursion into the underworld, and he was like a traveller in a distant land. Lost. That’s the picture I got. A lost and unhappy man—’
‘
Unhappy man?’ she put in sharply.
‘
I’d hardly imagine he was happy about it; the circumstances under which he was doing it.’
She
bit her lip. ‘No.’
‘
So, as I say, a lost and unhappy man.’ She’d known about the circumstances, grown up with them. ‘Fumbling his way along. Having to be shown how to do this and how to do that.’
‘
Have you got a cigarette?’ she asked.
I
had. She drew on it.
‘
And that’s all it meant to you?’ she asked in scorn.
I
managed to meet her eyes levelly. ‘What else is there?’
‘
What he said about how far away would it kill a man. Where to aim.’ She
had
been speaking to Lovejoy.
‘
If you intend to kill a man, it’s best to know that sort of thing.’
Now
the scorn was rampant contempt. Her voice had a touch of hoarseness in it, where the emotion touched it.
‘
You’re a very unintelligent man for an enquiry agent,’ she cried. ‘Anybody else would have realized daddy was lying.’
Troy
eased himself on his stool. I glanced round, because the soft buzz of conversation had eased around us.
‘
So your father was lying. That’s very interesting. I never guessed. What was he lying about?’
‘
Pretending he didn’t know which end was which, that he couldn’t fire the thing. Of course he could. He’d had one of his own for years.’
So
there we were. I was supposed to fall off the stool with shock. This was what it had all been about, this urging me on to seek out Lovejoy. So perhaps if I’d been bright—and if I hadn’t already known—I’d have seen that construction in it. But I’m not too bright. She’d had to go to all this trouble getting me to force it out of her.
I
don’t register shock too well. I compromised by dropping my cigarette. On the way back up I noticed how delicate her feet were. ‘Had he?’ I said.
It
was something she’d secretly cherished for thirteen years, and now its revealing fell flat and empty.
‘
I knew he’d got it,’ she said, pouting. ‘He used to take it down into the woods and try it out. I don’t think he could hit a tree, but daddy was like that. It was an adventurous toy. He played with it.’
Her
voice was low now. Vibrant. There was complete scorn in it, not now for me, but for her father, a grown but immature man who played with his gun in the woods. She was silent. I prompted her gently.
‘
So he knew very well how to re-load it?’
‘
Of course he did.’
‘
So that all this scene of his with Lovejoy was just a bit of background that he was laying-on, just in case the police came into it later, so that he could play that clever trick of his? No, I couldn’t re-load! No, I didn’t understand it at all!’
‘
No, no!’ she hissed at me fiercely, her teeth tight because she was trying to stop herself from shouting. ‘Not for the police. For him. For Paterson.’
It
was a pretty piece of work. She wasn’t angry at all. She’d got it round to what she’d been intending, which was to show me why her father had gone to Lovejoy. I was not to consider the fact that Neville Gaines had known, all the while, how to re-load the gun, and the inferences that might grow from that. Poor Gaines had been fighting for his life. After the murder he’d been in shock, but all of a sudden he’d realized we’d only found one gun. He’d caught hold of the idea with both hands. It had been a fine act he had put on, but unfortunately he’d convinced Crowshaw that there had to be two guns, and it was now a sad thought that in this way Gaines had precipitated the whirl of publicity that had ultimately condemned him.
‘
For Paterson,’ I agreed. ‘The scene with Lovejoy was for Paterson’s benefit.’
‘
Why would daddy want another gun when he already had one? Why would he go to all that absurd trouble to get another one, unless he’d got a special reason? But you can see it.’ She stared at me aggressively. ‘Can’t you? He didn’t want to
do
anything. It was just a warning.’