‘Sorry I said that,’ Alan told him. ‘But I still don’t see why there was all this elaborate detaining business because of Miss Frinton. I don’t see where she comes into it.’
‘No doubt she’ll tell us, shortly,’ said Dr Salt dryly. ‘But I think her job was to act as a beautiful clincher. If I seemed rather doubtful, it would be Miss Frinton’s turn. Perhaps she’d invite me here, give me a few drinks and encourage me to talk – they know she’s good at that – it’s part of her job – and that would be the end of the Salt nuisance. As it was, I appeared to have accepted the performance, so her intervention was hardly necessary. Still, she could take over if she thought it worth while—’
‘Yes, yes,’ cried Maggie eagerly. ‘I felt there was something false and wrong then – I really did. But I was being so stupid about you, Dr Salt—’
‘You’re not the only one, are you, dear?’ said Jill Frinton wryly. ‘A lot of us weren’t being very clever, were we?’
Maggie ignored this. She was still looking at Dr Salt. ‘It began – I mean, my being stupid – when you insisted upon introducing Alan and me so solemnly, both to that barman and Dews – even mentioning our father—’
‘I wanted to see how they’d react—’
‘But they didn’t. They weren’t interested—’
‘The barman elaborately wasn’t. But Dews felt sufficiently confident to do a little turn – elfish and whimsical.’ He stopped, glanced from Maggie to Alan and added curtly: ‘I think your father called there on Monday. No – no – one thing at a time.’ Now he gave Jill Frinton a hard look. ‘Well, Miss Frinton – going to bluff it out?’
‘No, Dr Salt. You win. I’ve spent too much time with salesmen and buyers. I’ve forgotten about really clever men.’ She waited a moment, then suddenly burst out fiercely. ‘But why do you have to start churning up everything? Why are you bothering about that silly little bitch – Noreen Wilks?’
‘She was my patient. She’s missing. And she’ll die soon, if she isn’t already dead.’ Briefly he gave her his medical reasons for believing this, then went on, with a cold ferocity that seemed to Maggie at once surprising and terrifying: ‘This is a matter of life and death, Miss Frinton. Something quite different from arranging parties and pimping for businessmen. I’m going to find out what happened to this girl if I have to turn Birkden upside down and inside out. I’m leaving soon and I haven’t time to play games with people like you and that clown Dews. I don’t care how you earn your slimy living—’
‘Drop that, Salt,’ Alan cut in angrily. ‘Now you’re going much too far—’
‘You tell me that when you’ve found your father, Culworth. Where is he? What’s happening to him? And what do you know about Birkden? Don’t interrupt or we’ll get nowhere. I’m going soon and you can console Miss Frinton after I’ve gone.’ He stared at her. ‘Now then – stop lying. Where is Noreen Wilks?’
‘Believe me, Dr Salt – please believe me. I don’t know.’ She was shaking her head and seemed to be finding it difficult to speak. ‘I’ll tell you all I do know, even though it may mean I’ll be out of this place and looking for a job in a few days.’ She picked up her glass and, finding it empty, held it out to Alan. ‘Get me a drink, please – whisky with a lot of soda – my throat’s too dry, I can’t talk properly—’ After Alan had taken her glass, she looked at Dr Salt and tried to smile. ‘I’m sorry, but you’ll have to wait.’
‘I can wait,’ Dr Salt told her. ‘But not long.’
Maggie was now beginning to feel sorry for this Frinton girl. As for Dr Salt, he now seemed a terrifying, ruthless man, and she could hardly believe that only a few minutes before, he had winked at her.
2
‘Now I’ll tell you all I know and the exact truth,’ Jill Frinton began, her manner and voice easier now that she had swallowed most of the drink Alan had given her. ‘Noreen Wilks came to that party on September 12th with young Derek Donnington. I didn’t want her there. As far as I was concerned, she was a little nuisance. She didn’t want to entertain the guests. She was having an affair with Derek. They just wanted to eat, drink, dance, for a couple of hours and then go off to make love somewhere. And don’t ask me where they went, because I haven’t a clue. But I just wished she’d go away and stay away. I was afraid that Derek’s father, the great Sir Arnold, would learn about this affair and blame me and the Club. He never wanted the Club, loathed the idea of parties there, and it was Tommy Linsdale – he’s the Sales Director – who talked him into it. I might add that Tommy’s been away – in America – since early September, and this hasn’t made it any easier for me. I might also add – and just remember this, Dr Salt – that I’ve never exchanged more than a dozen words with Sir Arnold Donnington. He didn’t like the look of me, and I didn’t like the look of him. No wonder that poor little Derek was a bit wild and very silly, and that the girl, Erica, still is—’
‘Donnington has a daughter, then?’ said Dr Salt.
‘Yes. Two years older than Derek. And a pest. We’re lucky she isn’t here this minute. She has a Lizzie crush on me at the moment, and when she’s half stoned, she can’t keep away. But let’s get back to Noreen Wilks and that party. She and Derek left together. I know that because I saw them go and it was a welcome sight. She may have been sober, but I’m sure he wasn’t.’ She hesitated a moment. ‘All right. This is where I may be tossing my job out of the window.’ She looked round, ending – and lingering a little – with Alan.
‘We can keep anything she says to ourselves, can’t we, Dr Salt?’ Alan looked even more appealing than he sounded.
‘You can. Probably I can,’ said Dr Salt, ‘though I imagine she won’t be telling us very much.’
‘That’s not because I don’t want to, Dr Salt. It’s because I don’t really know anything. I can only guess. I don’t even know for certain that Derek Donnington shot himself a few hours after they left the Club. It may have been an accident, as they said it was at the inquest—’
‘They’d have said he died smelling roses, if Donnington had suggested it,’ said Dr Salt. ‘I’ve no doubt whatever the boy committed suicide.’
‘Neither have I,’ said Jill Frinton. ‘And I think he took Noreen Wilks home – his home – and that his father found them together and there was a hell of a row. What happened then is anybody’s guess. But I think that as soon as he knew what Derek had done, Sir Arnold got Noreen away somehow. He had to do that or there’d have been a hell of a scandal – real sensational Sunday-paper stuff – the dolce vita of the industrial Midlands – drunken wild parties given by United Anglo-Belgian Fabrics – working girls debauched to entertain foreign buyers—’
‘Well, isn’t that just what was happening?’ This was Maggie, who hadn’t meant to interrupt her but couldn’t restrain herself any longer.
Jill Frinton might not have been able to handle Dr Salt, but she was not standing any nonsense from Maggie. ‘Life isn’t a bookshop, dear—’
‘I’ve not always been in a bookshop—’
‘And it isn’t a sensational Sunday paper either—’
‘But wasn’t it part of your job to round up attractive young girls for these parties? No, Alan – you shut up. I’m asking her – and I happen to know it’s true.’
‘Yes, terrible – isn’t it?’ Jill Frinton, who had the eyes for it, glared at her. ‘Taking them out of Birkden back streets, a few stinking pubs and greasy dance halls – and letting them wear pretty clothes and taking them where they had civilized food and drink and company – terrible! All right – they may have had rough passes made at them – a wrestling match now and again – my God, I’ve had some of them here – and they may have occasionally crept into bed for a five-pound note, instead of being fumbled and tumbled in a back street – terrible – terrible! But do you know what’s it’s like – being a working girl in Birkden?’
Dr Salt got in first. ‘I ought to,’ he said dryly, ‘after seven years as a general practitioner in one of its poorest distric
ts. But let’s keep to the point. You think that Sir Arnold Donnington – terrified of a scandal that would involve him, his family, his firm – took steps at once to make sure there wouldn’t be one. Noreen Wilks had to disappear immediately. No questions had to be asked. The lid was on firmly. And that’s where I come in – um?’
‘Yes, Dr Salt. I was told last night – not by Sir Arnold, who wouldn’t want to recognize my existence – that a nosy little doctor might be asking questions about Noreen Wilks. This Dr Salt was leaving Birkden, anyhow – and perhaps a bit sooner than he thought – so if he did turn up at the Club all we had to do was to persuade him he was wasting his time—’
‘And you fooled him all right, didn’t you?’ said Maggie acidly.
‘Look – don’t you start crowing too soon,’ cried Miss Frinton. ‘I saw by the look in your eye at the Club that you thought him a bit of an idiot. You can’t deny it. All right – he’s tough, clever and probably quite ruthless – and I’ve given in – God help me! But what about you and this nice brother of yours? What about your father? Do you think he’s going to let you off? All he cares about is knowing what’s happened to Noreen Wilks. Soon he may be just as tough, clever and ruthless with you people.’
‘I don’t know whether you’re flattering me or insulting me,’ said Dr Salt mildly. ‘But I think we can drop the subject. What I want to know now is this. Who gave you and Dews your instructions last night?’
‘I can’t tell you that.’
‘You mean you won’t – not you can’t.’
‘I mean I’ve gone as far as I dare, Dr Salt.’
‘And in the circumstances,’ said Alan, ‘I think that’s reasonable—’
‘You would, wouldn’t you?’ Maggie was angry with him.
Dr Salt ignored this Culworth exchange. ‘Now then, Jill,’ he began.
She cut him short. ‘Oh – I’m Jill now, am I? A soft sell, this time.’
‘Don’t count on it,’ Dr Salt told her. ‘The fact is – I believe Jill is your name – and that Frinton isn’t—’
‘Well – my God – really—’
‘It’s too much part of the persona – the mask, the character – you’ve been carefully establishing. All very different from Birkden – Frinton. Snooty. The exclusive resort. Miss Jill Frinton. Table for Miss Frinton. A call for Miss Frinton. RSVP Jill Frinton, 6 Cadogan Mansions. Very good. Too good. So I say it isn’t your real name.’
‘And I say,’ said Alan angrily, ‘you’re being offensive, Salt—’
She gave him a grateful little smile. ‘But he’s right, of course, the artful devil! My real name’s Irish – one of those that suggest, if you’re a girl, that either nobody can have you or everybody can.’ She looked at Dr Salt. ‘All right, make it Jill. But I’m not going to tell you anything else. I can’t afford to.’
‘You can’t afford not to, Jill,’ said Dr Salt. ‘Yesterday morning I talked to Superintendent Hurst at police headquarters. I’m going to see him again tomorrow. Now it’s true that Hurst believes it’s a privilege to be living in the same town as Sir Arnold Donnington. But within his limits he’s an honest man. He knows already he must now make some inquiries about Noreen Wilks. I shall have to tell him that I know she went to that party on September 12th. But I don’t have to tell him – unless you make me – how I found out. I don’t have to complain about the Fabrics Club—’
‘All right,’ she said wearily, ‘you win again. It was Aricson who spoke to us last night.’
‘And who’s he?’
‘Officially he’s Public Relations. Tommy Linsdale calls him “the trouble-shooter”. How he does most of his trouble-shooting, I don’t know. I’ve really had very little to do with him. He doesn’t often come to the Club. I fancy he dislikes me, and I know I dislike him. He’s a cold, calculating type, though he has a fairly attractive wife and two children. You’re not going to talk to him, are you?’
‘Of course I am. Tonight, if possible. It’s only about half past nine. I’ll see if he’s at home. What’s his telephone number?’
‘It’s in the little red book there.’ Jill seemed defeated. ‘But have a heart, Dr Salt. You don’t have to tell him you’re ringing him from here, do you?’
‘No,’ said Dr Salt on his way to the telephone. ‘I’ve no hard feelings, Jill. If I can keep you out of it, I will.’ He picked up the little red book, but then the telephone rang. Automatically he answered it. ‘A call from New York for you.’
‘Don’t put the receiver back yet,’ she said hastily. ‘I’ll take it in the bedroom.’ She hurried out and a few moments later he replaced the receiver and moved across to be closer to Maggie and Alan.
‘No questions. There may not be time. If Aricson’s in, I’m going to see him. You’d better come with me, Maggie. I want you to stay here with Jill, Alan. Maggie and I won’t come back here – might spoil something. I don’t expect to be long with Aricson, so I’ll take Maggie back to my place. If you’re not there by eleven, I’ll run her home. You can tell Maggie anything she ought to know – I mean really, anything I ought to know – in the morning. Maggie, if you’d rather not go with me to see Aricson, I could drop you off at my flat on the way—’
‘No, I want to go with you,’ she told him sturdily. ‘Don’t forget you said my father called at the Club on Monday. Besides, he came to Birkden to ask about Noreen Wilks.’
‘You come along, then. If he isn’t in, then I’ll simply run you home. Yes, Alan?’
‘Jill may not want me to stay on here—’
‘We shall soon know.’
‘I’ll be glad to talk to her. But as a possible friend.’ Alan mumbled this, obviously embarrassed. ‘And not as a member of the Noreen Wilks investigation team. I think she told you all she knows – and it wasn’t easy – and just remember, both of you, that so far we’ve had everything from your point of view, not hers—’
‘Oh – Alan – can’t you see—’
‘No, Maggie,’ Dr Salt cut in sharply. ‘Alan’s quite right—’
‘Well, at least,’ said Maggie in a fierce quick whisper, ‘he might as well know she’s the mistress of this man who’s telephoning from New York – Tommy Something – Linsdale—’
‘And now he does know, doesn’t he?’ Alan told her. ‘But you don’t have to sound so damned vindictive, Mag. It’s nothing to do with you.’
‘It has if you—’
‘Hold it.’
‘One day,’ said Jill, who seemed to have recovered her earlier manner, ‘somebody will pretend to be phoning from New York and really will be in the next room. I’m trying to tell you how clear it was – without being a bore. Oh – Dr Salt – must you ring up Aricson?’
‘Yes, I must. I want to leave Birkden as soon as I can. So I have to press on.’ He had dialled now and had the receiver to his ear. ‘Is that Mr Aricson? This is Dr Salt – and I’m wondering if I might come and see you for a few minutes . . . Well, yes, it is rather urgent. Let’s see – no, I’ll be calling in ten minutes or so. Thank you.’ He looked at Jill and grinned. ‘I nearly slipped then. I was just about to ask him where he lived.’
‘Well, why not, if you’re going to call on him?’
‘Because if I’d got his number from the directory, I’d be also looking at his address. If I asked him for it, then I hadn’t been using the directory but somebody’s private list of phone numbers. The question then would be – Whose?’
‘You really are trying to cover up for me – thank you, Dr Salt.’
‘And thank you for the drink, Jill. Ready, Maggie?’
3
‘Why do you think he left us together?’ said Jill as they settled down with their drinks. ‘Does he imagine there are still a few useful bits and pieces you might coax out of me? Because there aren’t, and if there were, you couldn’t.’
‘I’ll tell you exactly what I said to him when he suggested I should stay on here. I said I’d be glad to talk to you – but as a possible friend, not as a member of hi
s investigating team – and that I thought you’d told him all you know. I also reminded both of them that so far we’d had everything from their point of view, not yours.’
‘Quite right. You’re a friend already – not just a possible one. Now tell me something. Am I slipping – I mean, knowing about men – or did he take you in, too?’
‘You’re not slipping. He took me in all right. I could hardly speak to him in that Club bar, I thought him such a fool. Not that I haven’t met anybody like him before. I attended a conference last summer, and a chap there – a well-known physicist – drifted around looking like an imbecile, but as soon as I started talking to him, he made rings round me.’
‘A lot of the men I’ve met lately try to make rings round me – mostly with their arms – but our Dr Salt’s a new type to me. But that’s enough about him. And if you so much as mention Noreen Wilks, I’ll tell you to go. Talk about yourself.’
‘It’s a dull subject, Jill. I’m thirty-three, a lecturer in the Physics Department of Hemtonshire University, unmarried, live with my mother and Maggie and my father when he isn’t missing. Outside my work, I’m chiefly interested in moths. And don’t giggle – they can be fascinating. I’m a bit cleverer than I look, but no intellectual giant.’
‘Girl friend?’
‘Not at the moment. I’ve had a few, of course. There’s plenty of sex running loose in universities. They all have to prove they’re so dam’ broadminded. By the way, who was the big, red-faced, sloppy man you were with when you visited my father’s bookshop?’
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