‘I understand there’s a murder charge being kept on ice for someone.’
Frenchy moaned and sank in a heap on the floor. ‘I didn’t do it,’ she babbled, ‘I didn’t do it… you got to believe me!’
Gently bent over and picked up the cigarette, which was making an oily mark on the dubious lino. ‘Listen, Frenchy, if it’s any consolation to you, I don’t think you knocked off Max, and I’m not personally trying to pin it on you. But you’re obviously in it up to your neck, and unless you make yourself useful to us you’re going to have a pretty rough passage in court. Now what about it… suppose we do a deal?’
‘I can’t, mister — I daren’t!’
‘We’ll give you protection. You’ve nothing to be afraid of.’
The dyed-blonde hair shook hopelessly. ‘They’d get me… they always do. They don’t never forget, mister.’
‘Nonsense,’ said Gently stoutly, ‘this is England, Frenchy.’
Her haunted eyes looked up at him, hesitating. Then she gave a hysterical little laugh. ‘That’s what Max thought, too… he’d be safe once he got to England!’
They went down the naked stairway, Frenchy clicking her high heels, Gently clumping in the rear. She had put on her white two-piece with its red piping and split skirt, and there was almost a degree of respectability about her make-up. At the bottom she fished a key out of her handbag and locked the street door. Gently took it from her and slipped it into his pocket.
‘And to save a little trouble…?’
Frenchy sniffed and tossed her head towards the corner shop. ‘Mother Goffin over the way… and don’t let her kid you up she’s deaf.’
‘I won’t,’ murmured Gently, ‘at least, not twice in one day.’
They proceeded towards the Front, Gently feeling a trifle self-conscious beside so much window-dressing. At the corner of the street lurked Nits, his bulging eyes fixed upon them. As they drew closer he sidled out to meet them.
‘Giddout of the way, you!’ snapped Frenchy, angering suddenly. But Nits’ attention had focused on Gently.
‘You leave her alone — you leave her alone!’ he piped, ‘she’s a good girl, you mustn’t take her away!’
‘Clear out!’ screeched Frenchy, ‘I’ve had enough of you hanging round me!’
Gently put his hand in his pocket for a coin, but as he did so the halfwit came flying at him with flailing arms and legs.
‘You shan’t take her away — you shan’t — I won’t let you!’
‘Here, here,’ said Gently, ‘that’s no way for a young man to behave-!’
‘I’ll kill you, I will, I tell you I’ll kill you!’
‘And I’ll bleedin’ kill you!’ screamed Frenchy, catching Nits such a cuff across the face that he was almost cart-wheeled into the gutter. For a moment he lay there, pop-eyed and gibbering, then he sprang to his feet in a whirl of limbs and darted away down Dulford Street like a bewildered animal.
‘Dirty little git!’ jeered Frenchy, ‘they’re all the same — doesn’t matter what they are. Men are all one filthy pack together!’
The super wasn’t feeling his pluperfect best just then. He’d been butting his head against brick walls all day. He’d disregarded Gently, made an enemy of Christopher Wylie, been torn off a helluva strip by the chief constable, failed to find the merest trace of a suitcase full of hundred-dollar bills and, to cap it all, he was beginning to realize that he’d been wrong anyway. It was this last that really hurt. The rest he was prepared to take in his superintendental stride
…
‘So she won’t talk!’ he almost snarled, as Gently and he sluiced down canteen tea in the latter’s office.
Gently shrugged woodenly. ‘You can’t really blame her. She’s convinced she’d be signing her own death- warrant.’
‘Well, if she doesn’t sign it I shall — she can bank on that for a start!’ yapped the super.
‘Oh, I don’t know…’ Gently put down his cup and mopped his forehead with a handkerchief that had been seeing life. ‘I’ve got a couple of men looking for the taxi that picked them up on Tuesday night… if we can find that, we shall be getting somewhere.’
‘Now look here, Gently!’ The super almost choked. ‘This woman is the crux of the case. If your guessing is correct she knows everything — where he went to, who picked him up, who was after the money — she may even have been a witness to the murder, for all we know! And all you can tell me is she won’t talk. That’s all! They’ve put a scare into her, so she won’t talk!’
‘It isn’t a small size in scares, when you come to think of it.’
‘I don’t care what size it was!’ raved the super. ‘I’ve got a scare up my sleeve, too, quite as big as any of theirs. We’ll soon see who’s got the biggest!’
Gently looked woodener than ever. ‘She’s got a perfect right to keep quiet. And you’re overestimating your scare. There’s nothing you can pin to Frenchy apart from conspiracy to burgle, and she’s not such a fool that she doesn’t know it.’
‘Oh, she isn’t, isn’t she? We’ll soon see about that! I’ll make a pass at her with a murder charge that’ll put paid to all this nonsense
…!’
‘No.’ Gently shook his head. ‘I’ve tried it, anyway. The position is that you might get her, but they certainly will. They’re the ones who are holding a pistol in her back… or at least they’ve made her think so. No… Frenchy’s our ace in the hole, and for the moment we’ll have to leave her there. I’ve got an impression she’ll be a lot more vocal when she sees certain people wearing handcuffs.’
‘But how the devil are you going to get handcuffs on them when she won’t talk? And the man we want — let’s face it, Gently, it’s the fellow with the scar who’s got high jump written all over him — where will you ever lay hands on him again?’
‘He was here last night,’ muttered Gently obstinately.
‘Last night, last night! But where is he now — today? He isn’t just a criminal on the run. He’s part of a powerful and ruthless organization, professionals to their fingertips.’
Gently smiled feebly. ‘Even organizations are run by human beings
… they’re sometimes quite modest concerns when you get to grips with them. Anyway… about Frenchy. I want to ask a favour.’
The super grunted fiercely, as though indicating it wasn’t his day for such things.
‘I don’t want her kept here… I’d like her released on bail.’
‘On BAIL!!!’ erupted the super, his eyes jumping open as though he had been stung.
‘Yes… nothing very heavy. Just a modest little reminder.’
‘But good heavens, man — bail! A woman of that character — arrested for a felony — suspected of complicity in murder — and you’re asking for bail! What the devil do you think I should put on my report?’
‘Just say it was at my request,’ murmured Gently soothingly, ‘I’ll carry the can if she doesn’t turn up.’
‘But I’m already in bad with the CC over this business-!’
‘She’ll be in court. You needn’t worry about that.’
The super treated Gently to several seconds of his best three-phase stare. ‘All right,’ he said at last, ‘it’s your idea, Gently. You can have her. But God help you if she’s missing when we go to court. You’ll have her tailed, of course?’
‘Oh yes… Dutt’s one of the best tails in the business. And I’d like someone to check up on the flat in Dulford Street. The rent is paid to a Mrs Goffin who keeps a newsagent’s opposite… I’m just the wee-ish bit interested to know where it goes after that.’
The telephone rang and the super hooked it wearily to his ear. Gently rose to go, but the super, after a couple of exchanges, motioned for him to wait and grabbed a pencil out of his tray.
‘Yes… yes… d’you mind spelling it?… yes… as in Mau-Mau… got it… you’ll send his cards… right… yes… thank you!’
