by a large naked woman.
‘Mrs Wilt…’ he began but Eva was staring at the two uniformed constables.
‘Where’s my Henry?’ Eva shouted. ‘You’ve got my Henry.’ She hurled herself forward. Unwisely the Inspector attempted to restrain her.
‘Mrs Wilt, if you’ll just…’ A blow on the side of his head ended the sentence.
‘Keep your hands off me,’ yelled Eva, and putting her knowledge of judo to good use hurled him to the floor. She was about to repeat the performance with the constables when Wilt thrust himself forward.
‘Here I am, dear,’ he said. Eva stopped in her tracks. For a moment she quivered and, seen from Inspector Flint’s viewpoint, appeared to be about to melt. ‘Oh Henry,’ she said, ‘what have they been doing to you?’
‘Nothing at all, dear,’ said Wilt. ‘Now get your clothes on. We’re going home.’ Eva looked down at herself, shuddered and allowed him to lead her out of the room.
Slowly and wearily Inspector Flint got to his feet. He knew now why Wilt had put that bloody doll down the hole and why he had sat so confidently through days and nights of interrogation. After twelve years of marriage to Eva Wilt the urge to commit homicide if only by proxy would be overwhelming. And as for Wilt’s ability to stand up to cross-examination…it was self-evident. But the Inspector knew too that he would never be able to explain it to anyone else. There were mysteries of human relationships that defied analysis. And Wilt had stood there calmly and told her to get her clothes on. With a grudging sense of admiration Flint went out into the hall. The little sod had guts, whatever else you could say about him.
They drove back to Parkview Avenue in silence. In the back seat Eva, wrapped in a blanket, slept with her head lolling on Wilt’s shoulder. Beside her Henry Wilt sat proudly. A woman who could silence Inspector Flint with one swift blow to the head was worth her weight in gold and besides that scene in the study had given him the weapon he needed. Naked and drunk in a Vicar’s study…There would be no questions now about why he had put that doll down the hole. No accusations, no recriminations. The entire episode would be relegated to the best forgotten. And with it would go all doubts about his virility or his ability to get on in the world. It was checkmate. For a moment Wilt almost lapsed into sentimentality and thought of love before recalling just how dangerous a topic that was. He would be better off sticking to indifference and undisclosed affection. ‘Let sleeping dogs lie,’ he muttered.
It was an opinion shared by the Pringsheims. As they were helped from the cruiser to a police launch, as they climbed ashore, as they explained to a sceptical Inspector Flint how they had come to be marooned for a week in Eel Stretch in a boat that belonged to someone else, they were strangely uncommunicative. No they didn’t know how the door of the bathroom had been bust down. Well maybe there had been an accident. They had been too drunk to remember. A doll? What doll? Grass? You mean marijuana? They had no idea. In their house?
Inspector Flint let them go finally. ‘I’ll be seeing you again when the charges have been properly formulated,’ he said grimly. The Pringsheims left for Rossiter Grove to pack. They flew out of Heathrow next morning.
Chapter 21
The Principal sat behind his desk and regarded Wilt incredulously. ‘Promotion?’ he said. ‘Did I hear you mention the word “promotion”?’
‘You did,’ said Wilt. ‘And what is more you also heard “Head of Liberal Studies”
