by Alan Hunter
Colonel Shotover Grout gave a premonitory rumble. ‘Cuffs, sir – take it they’re absolutely necessary?’
Chief Superintendent Gish spared him a look of hypnotic pity.
‘Remove them,’ ordered Sir Daynes crisply. ‘There would appear to be sufficient men with police training present to render the step unperilous.’
The cuffs were removed. A chair was drafted in. With a shorthand constable at his elbow Sir Daynes levelled a model charge and caution at the silent Streifer, inasmuch as he had, on the twelfth instant, with malice aforethought, stabbed to death one Stephan Stratilesceul, alias Max.
The baby being passed to Streifer, he simply shook his head.
‘You don’t wish to make a statement?’
‘No.’ His voice was harsh but not unpleasant.
‘You realize the invariable penalty annexed to a conviction of homicide in this country?’
‘I am not … unacquainted.’
‘It is a capital offence.’
‘Ah yes – England hangs.’
‘Yet you still do not wish to say anything in your own defence?’
Streifer shrugged his elegant shoulders. ‘Have you proof of this thing?’
‘We have a very good case.’
‘Enough to drop me into your pit?’
‘To convict you – yes.’
‘Then what should I say? Have you a confession for me to sign?’
The chief constable frowned. ‘We don’t do things that way. You may anticipate perfectly fair proceedings in this country. We have a case against you, but you are perfectly free to defend yourself. What you say will be equally considered with what we say in the court in which you will be tried.’
‘Then I shall plead that I am innocent. What more will be necessary?’
‘It will be necessary to prove it – as we shall seek to prove our contentions.’
Streifer smiled ironically and cast a deliberate glance round the assembled company. ‘What pains you take! In my country we are more economical. But let me hear these contentions of yours. I have no doubt that your scrupulous system permits it.’
Sir Daynes signalled to the super, who once more communicated with Gently by the medium of Copping. Gently, however, having produced a crumpled sheet of paper, elected to pass it back to the seat of authority. The super straightened it out hastily and began to read.
‘We can show that the accused, Olaf Streifer, is a member of a revolutionary party known as the TSK and that he is a member of the Maulik or secret police appertaining to that party and that previous to the present instance he has illicitly entered this country for the purpose of forwarding the aims of that party by criminal process.
‘We can show that the murdered man, Stephan Stratilesceul, was also a member of the TSK party, and that he was similarly engaged in forwarding its aims.
‘We can show that, on Tuesday, 5 August, Stephan Stratilesceul entered this country as a fugitive from the Polish liner Ortory, which liner was at that time breaking at Hull a voyage from Danzig to New York, and that he was pursued ashore by Streifer, and that he escaped in the trawler Harvest Sea, which brought him to Starmouth where he was landed on the morning of Wednesday, 6 August.
‘We can show that Streifer also arrived in Starmouth, date unknown, and that he took up quarters in a deserted house known as “Windy Tops”, and that he traced Stratilesceul to lodgings he had taken at 52 Blantyre Road.
‘We can show that on Tuesday, 12 August, at or about 22.00 hours, Stratilesceul proceeded in a hired car to “Windy Tops” in the company of a prostitute named Agnes Meek, alias Frenchy, and that he was not again seen alive.
‘We can show that his naked body, bearing four stab-wounds of which two would have been instantly fatal, as well as burns made before death, suggesting that he had been subject to torture, was washed ashore between the Albion and Wellesley Piers some time before 05.10 hours on Wednesday, 13 August, and that the time of death was estimated as being five or six hours previous, and that in the state of the tides and the offshore current then prevailing a body introduced into the sea near “Windy Tops” at or about 24.00 hours Tuesday would, with great probability, be washed ashore at the time and place at which Stratilesceul’s body was washed ashore.
‘We can show that following Stratilesceul’s murder, burglary was committed by Streifer at 52 Blantyre Road in the hope of recovering a suitcase containing a quantity of counterfeit United States Treasury notes, but that his purpose was frustrated by a previous burglary committed by Jeffery Algernon Wylie and Robert Henry Baines on information received from Agnes Meek.
‘We can show that Streifer eventually traced the suitcase to its hiding-place under the Albion Pier, that he recovered it, that he substituted for it a brown paper package containing the clothes worn by the deceased at the time of his death, and that he caused the attention of the police to be drawn to the part played by Wylie and Baines, presumably in order to mislead the investigations.’ (Here the super seemed smitten by a troublesome cough and the chief constable sniffed rather pointedly.)
‘We can show, finally, that the piece of brown paper used to wrap the clothes of the deceased is identical in composition with a sheet of brown paper discovered at “Windy Tops”, this sheet forming part of the packing of a mattress acquired for his own use by Streifer, also discovered at “Windy Tops”, and that the torn edges of the one piece match exactly the torn edges of the other piece.’
The super halted and laid down his sheet of paper.
‘Excellent!’ chimed in the colonel, aside. ‘First-class case – magnificent phrasing!’
Chief Superintendent Gish turned his head sideways, as though he felt it unnecessary to turn it any further. ‘What a pity,’ he said to Gently behind, ‘what a pity you couldn’t have made it water-tight.’
Gently issued a quiet ring at Detective Sergeant Nickman’s plastic collar-stud.
‘When you’ve done so well … not to be able to show that Streifer was in Starmouth at the time of the murder.’
‘What’s that?’ barked Sir Daynes, ‘Not here at the time of the murder? I fail to follow you, sir, I completely fail to follow you!’
‘Oh, I dare say you’ll get a conviction.’ The chief superintendent came back off his half-turn. ‘The rest of it’s so strong that it’s almost bound to carry the day. But as I said, it’s a pity that you have to admit a phrase like “date unknown” against the important event of Streifer’s arrival in Starmouth … his defence are bound to be time-wasting and oratorical about it.’
Sir Daynes stared murder, and the chief superintendent stared it back.
‘Is this a fact?’ snapped the former at Gently. ‘We have just heard it read,’ chipped in the chief super scathingly.
Gently raised a calculating eyebrow. ‘How long,’ he mused, ‘how long would you say it would take a man – even supposing he was a confirmed anchovy addict – to eat five average-size tins of anchovies?’
‘Anchovies!’ exploded Sir Daynes, ‘what the devil have anchovies got to do with it, man?’
Gently shook his head. ‘I was going to ask Streifer that, if he had been feeling more communicative. But there were five empty tins in his waste-bucket at “Windy Tops” and I find it difficult to believe that he consumed one whole tin each tea-time for five days together …’
‘It isn’t proof,’ whipped in the chief super, razor-sharp.
‘No, it isn’t proof … just a curious example of devotion to anchovies. On the whole,’ added Gently mildly, ‘I was rather glad to find that a gentleman named Perkins, an employee at Starmouth Super Furnishings, was able to remember selling the mattress to a person resembling Streifer as early as Wednesday, 6 August …’
The dust died down and Sir Daynes, full of beans, returned to the problem of the reluctant Streifer.
‘You have heard the case against you. I think it is plain that it requires a better answer than mere silence. In your own interest, Streifer, I advise you to be as helpful as you c
an.’
‘In my own interest?’ Streifer gave a little laugh. ‘You are very kind people – very kind indeed! But what interest have I left when I am faced with this so-excellent case?’
‘You will not find the police ungrateful for any assistance you may be able to give them.’
‘Their gratitude would be touching. No doubt I should remember it with pleasure as I stood on your gallows.’
‘If you are innocent you can do no better than tell the whole truth. You are probably aware of other charges which will be preferred if you are acquitted on this one and I can say, on certain authority, that those charges will be dropped if you give us the assistance which we know to be in your power.’
‘And that would be the names of my associates in this country?’
‘Their names and all the information you possess about them.’
‘To turn traitor, in fact?’
‘To assist the ends of justice.’
Streifer laughed again and fixed his coal-black eyes on Sir Daynes. ‘Tell me,’ he said, ‘on this certain authority of yours – would it not be possible to forget Stratilesceul altogether if I gave this information?’
Sir Daynes jiffled impatiently, but the question pinned him down. ‘No,’ he admitted at last, ‘that charge is irrevocable, Streifer.’
‘But you could perhaps buy off the judge, or ensure that these quaint jurymen of yours returned a certain verdict?’
‘Quite impossible!’ rapped Sir Daynes, ‘understand once and for all that such courses are not followed in this country.’
‘And even if they were – even if I could be sure – even if you were to hand me a free pardon signed and sealed by your Queen herself – I would not betray the humblest comrade who marches with me towards the final liberation of mankind. That is my answer to you, the policemen. That is the only statement I wish to make. If you are just, as you claim you are just, you will take it down in writing and read it at my trial. But I have nothing more to say, excepting that.’
The silence which followed was slightly embarrassed. Sir Daynes seemed to freeze in his stern official look. Colonel Shotover Grout made rumbling noises, as though he thought the whole thing in very bad taste, and Superintendent Symms sniffed repeatedly in his superintendental way. It was the Special Branch Chief who spoke.
‘You see, Sir Daynes? This is the sort of thing we are up against at every turn … you may find criminals difficult to deal with, but believe me they are child’s play compared with fanatics.’
‘I cannot believe he will continue in this – this obstinacy,’ returned Sir Daynes, though his non-plussed tone of voice belied him, ‘his life is at stake, sir. Men will attempt their defence in however desperate a situation they find themselves.’
‘Not once they have become inoculated with creeds of this description,’ sneered the chief super. ‘They become intoxicated, Sir Daynes. They become tipsy with the most dangerous brand of aggrandizing delusion – political idealism. It means nothing for them to kill, and a triumph for them to die. We know these people. You had better let us handle them.’
Sir Daynes shook his head bewilderedly. ‘I must admit that it is something new in my experience … I feel somewhat at a loss.’ He glanced at the colonel. ‘What is your opinion, sir?’
‘Preposterous!’ grumbled the colonel half-heartedly, ‘unstable, sir … foreigners … unstable.’
‘Then, Sir Daynes, I take it you will make no further opposition to my investigations in this town.’
Sir Daynes pursed his lips. ‘If you think it is necessary it is my duty to give you every assistance.’
The chief super nodded in the comfortable consciousness of prevailed merit. ‘In effect I shall be taking over the present investigations at the point where your men and Chief Inspector Gently have left off. I shall want a full report from everyone engaged on the case and in addition I intend to conduct personal interrogations to bring to light points which may not hitherto have seemed important. Inspector Gently,’ – his head turned sideways again – ‘I have full authority to release you and your assistant from your duties here. Later on I should like to have a private chat with you and tomorrow you will be free to return to town.’
Gently nodded his mandarin nod and slowly removed his pipe from his mouth. ‘I’d like to make a point … if it isn’t interrupting the proceedings too much.’
The chief super’s head remained sideways in indication of his supreme patience.
‘One or two side-issues have cropped up in the course of my minor activities … I would have liked another day or two to tie them up.’
‘Unnecessary, Inspector Gently. They will certainly be taken care of.’
‘They concern,’ proceeded Gently absently, ‘the organization you are interested in disbanding.’
There was a silence in the crowded room. Nine pairs of eyes focussed with one accord on the man from the Central Office.
‘Of course … it’s not for me to suggest the line of further investigation … I don’t want to deflect the Special Branch from what it conceives to be its duty. But if they care to hold their horses for just a day or two, I feel I may be able to save them a certain amount of frustration.’
‘Come to the point, man!’ yapped Chief Superintendent Gish, proving for all time that his neck was fully mobile. ‘What is it you’re trying to say?’
‘I’m trying to say,’ replied Gently leisurely, ‘that I’m fully aware of the identity and whereabouts of the TSK leader in this country and you could arrest him this evening … if you thought it would do you any good.’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THEY THOUGHT IT would do them some good for quite a long time together, did the chief super, Sir Daynes and Colonel Shotover Grout. In the first flush of enthusiasm they were for leaping into a Black Maria and descending upon Big Louey with drawn automatics and a full complement of iron-mongery. It took time and a certain amount of cold water to correct their transports. Gently was obliged to apply the latter in generous doses.
‘We’ve got nothing on him … nothing whatever … we couldn’t even take his licence away.’
‘But good God, sir!’ gabbled Sir Daynes, ‘that ring – it’s positive evidence – when he denied possession he practically declared his culpability!’
‘We should never find it … he’s a clever man.’
‘And being able to tell you Stratilesceul’s nationality when even Central Records didn’t know him – it’s damning, sir, absolutely damning!’
‘Just his word against mine … or intelligent guessing.’
‘We’d better throw a cordon round the place and raid it,’ snarled the chief super, ‘he’ll have records – names and addresses – there’ll be a short-wave transmitter somewhere.’
Gently shook his head very firmly. ‘Not in Louey’s place. He’s far too fly. If they were ever there – which I doubt – they came out directly this Stratilesceul business got muddled.’
‘But how shall we know for sure if we don’t raid it?’
‘We know for sure now. He would never have behaved so confidently if he’d got anything to hide.’
‘There’ll be something to give him away.’
‘I wouldn’t like to bet on it.’
‘And we can’t just sit around waiting for him to disappear and set up somewhere else.’
‘He’ll do that all the quicker if he knows you’re out gunning for him.’
‘I say pull him in!’ erupted the colonel from his thoracic deeps. ‘Confront him with the other fella – make them see the game is up!’
‘I’m afraid it wouldn’t have that effect, colonel … they’re very old hands at this particular game.’
‘But damn it, sir, we must do something!’
‘Yes!’ struck in Sir Daynes irritably, ‘you’re very good at telling us what we can’t do, Gently, now suppose for a change you tell us what we can do?’
Gently sighed and felt about in his pockets for a peppermint cream that wasn’t there.<
br />
‘There’s just one saving grace about this business, as far as I can see … and it’s up to us to play it for all it’s worth. In your previous dealings with the TSK’ – he inclined his head deferentially towards the chief super – ‘I think you have had to do solely with agents of the party. Is that correct?’
The chief super scowled what was presumably an affirmative.
‘They were men like Streifer – men with an ideal – men who would sooner go to the gallows than give the least particle of information about the party. Now in the present instance there is a significant difference. We have here a person involved – deeply involved – who isn’t a party member, who has no burning desire to liberate mankind, and who is only being prevented from giving evidence by mortal fear for her personal safety. That person is the prostitute Frenchy. She knows enough, I’m reasonably certain, to put Louey into the dock beside Streifer … perhaps somebody else too. But she’s been got at. She doesn’t dare testify. She’s seen how Stratilesceul finished up, and no doubt she’s been told that whoever she gives away, there’ll always be someone left to take care of her.
‘But there she is – somebody who can do our job for us. If we can only find a way to coax her to talk we shall have Louey and possibly his associates in the palm of our hand. Unfortunately it runs in a circle … we’ve got to pull in Louey and company before she’ll talk, and before she talks we can’t pull in Louey and company …’
‘In fact it doesn’t seem to be getting us very far, does it?’ interrupted the chief super jealously.
Gently sucked a moment on his unlit pipe. ‘What puzzles me is how they got her to help them in the first place,’ he mused. ‘I’ve never been able to see that quite clearly …’