‘She knows a good deal… she’ll be a devastating witness.’
‘There would be some danger in it for her.’
‘Danger? With police protection?’
Louey turned his back on the sideshow and busied himself with lighting a cigarette. ‘If this murder was the work of an organization — and you don’t seem to be in any doubt about it now — then there would be a very real danger for anyone bearing material witness. Men can be hanged, Inspector, but organizations cannot. And my feeling is that a person of Frenchy’s kidney wouldn’t risk too much for pure love of our excellent police force.’
Gently stooped to get a closer view of a gentleman who had been given too long a drop, with the usual top- secret result. ‘You know Frenchy well?’ he asked carelessly.
‘I? Not apart from running her out of my bar on several occasions.’
‘Dulton… Dulsome Street is where she lives.’
‘Dulford Street, Inspector.’
‘That’s right. You’ve been there?’
‘Not visiting Frenchy, if that’s what you mean.’
‘You’re sure of that? Not in the last day or two?’
‘Quite positive, Inspector. My tastes have never been that way inclined.’
Gently straightened up slowly. ‘Odd,’ he said, frowning.
‘What’s odd about that?’
‘These two cigarette ends.’ Gently felt in his pocket and produced a crumpled envelope. ‘There… you see? Your blend of Russian. I found them in an ashtray in Frenchy’s bedroom yesterday afternoon.’
Louey poked at them with a gigantic finger and nodded heavily. ‘You’re right, Inspector… it is my blend.’
‘I was sure of it… I was feeling positive you’d been there.’
The grey eyes rested on his firmly, the flecked pupil seeming curiously larger than its neighbour. ‘Isn’t it a shame, Inspector,’ purred Louey, ‘I thought my cigarettes were exclusive. And now, in the commission of your duty, you’ve proved that someone else in Starmouth smokes them too… at least, I take it, it was in the commission of your duty?’
Gently shrugged and shoved the envelope back into his pocket.
The Scenic Railway had its shutters up, though someone was tinkering with one of the trolleys. It wasn’t quite so impressive on a nearer view. Its cliffs and crags were so palpably props, its tunnels and bridges so contrived. And the rain made it look sorrier still, a great, hollow, sodden mockery. Gently took refuge in a peppermint cream as they squelched past it. If only he’d thought to bring a more reliable pair of shoes…!
‘I suppose I don’t have to ask you to account for your movements last Tuesday night?’ he growled, as they got out on to the promenade again.
‘But of course!’ Louey chuckled, as though he welcomed the inquiry. ‘I was having a little party in the back… Peachey, Artie, Tizer and some more of the boys. You ask them, Inspector. They’ll all remember my party on Tuesday night.’
‘I’m sure they will. And of course it went on till late?’
‘Not terribly late. I cleared them out at two.’
‘Just late enough, in fact.’
‘Well… it was late enough for me.’
‘And that would be your story — supposing you had to have a story?’
‘Certainly, Inspector. Why should I tell any other?’
‘There’s no knowing what Frenchy may say.’
‘She’s a woman without character.’
‘Or Streifer, for example.’
‘Streifer?’ Louey hung on to the word, as though expecting an explanation.
‘And then there’s your car,’ continued Gently, ignoring him. ‘Was that borrowed or something on the Tuesday night?’
‘My car…?’ This time the inquiring tone had an edge of anxiety.
‘You lent it to someone — and they went up to North Shore?’
‘I don’t understand, Inspector. My car would have been in its lock-up in Botolph Street.’
‘Even though it was seen somewhere else?’
‘That would hardly be possible…’
‘Then you didn’t lend it to anyone?’
‘No. It was never out of the garage.’
‘So the people who saw it at North Shore would be liars?’
‘They were certainly under a misapprehension…’
Gently flicked briskly at his over-worked trilby. ‘You’ll have got rid of the ring, of course… that was too much of a coincidence.’
The big features relaxed and there was a glimpse of gold. ‘If you don’t mind me saying it, Inspector, I think we had better consider that ring to have been an illusion.’
‘I’m not subject to illusions, Louey.’
‘But just once, perhaps, in a long career?’
‘Not even once, and certainly not prophetically. I didn’t know the TSK or its secret sign existed when I saw your ring, but I knew where I’d seen it before when it turned up a second time.’
‘A trick of the memory, perhaps.’
‘The police aren’t much subject to them.’
‘Well, shall we say rather dubious evidence?’
In a court of law it would be for the jury to decide.’
Louey laughed his low, caressing laugh. ‘How we talk, Inspector… how we do. But I like these examples of your official approach to a problem. It’s comforting to feel that the guardians of our law and order work so efficiently and so intelligently. As I said on a former occasion, I could only wish you had more promising material to deal with in the present instance.’
‘I’ll make do,’ grunted Gently, ‘it doesn’t seem to be running out on me at the moment.’
Louey shook his head with a sort of playful sympathy. ‘I respect your attitude… it’s the attitude one would expect and look for in such a man as yourself. But honestly, Inspector, when one takes stock of the situation… for instance, this Streifer. What can you do about him? You can connect him with the murdered man in a dozen ways, you can show he was the most likely one to have done it — but what’s all that worth when you haven’t got a scrap of proof that he did it? I don’t have to remind you of our careful court procedure. In some countries Streifer would be executed out-of-hand on a tenth of the evidence… and perhaps you’ll allow, without too much injustice. But here you have to convince your jury. Here you are obliged to go to fanatical lengths to show proof and double proof. And you don’t seem to have it, Inspector. You are faced with a planned execution, the details of which have been efficiently erased. I’ve no doubt that a jury would convict Streifer of something — there must be several lesser charges you could bring — but as a betting man, Inspector, I’m willing to give you ten to one they never convict him of murdering Stratilesceul.’
Louey took a farewell puff at his cigarette and seemed about to toss it away. Then he changed his mind and with a gilded smile handed it to Gently.
‘Another one for your collection!’
Gently nodded and extinguished it carefully.
‘The previous remarks,’ continued Louey, watching him, ‘supposing you have in fact arrested Streifer…?’
Gently tucked away the sodden end without replying. Louey nodded as though that were sufficient answer.
‘And I don’t think you will, Inspector… I don’t really think you will. If he was, as you say, a member of the… what was it? A secret police? I imagine he will know his way out of a country… don’t you? Especially with the assistance we must assume he will get from his organization over here.’
Gently stuck his hands in his pockets and plodded on. He seemed completely immersed in something taking place over the pale sea-horizon.
‘It’s wrong of me,’ mused Louey, ‘I shouldn’t say it… but I can’t help feeling a little sympathy for the man.’
