looking and full of jump. With considerable expertise the young man slipped a landing-net under it, lifted it aboard and disengaged the hook. Then he threw it straight back into the water and put the rod well out of Gently’s reach.
‘Now…! Perhaps we can learn what Scotland Yard is here about.’
Gently extended his hands. ‘First things first! Where did you go on your motorbike last night?’
‘I went for a ride.’
‘A ride — not again?’
Paul looked at him in surprise. ‘What do you mean — not again? Is there any reason why I shouldn’t?’
‘Not really…! Where did you go?’
‘To Starmouth. And I can prove it.’
‘What time did you get back?’
‘About eleven, I believe.’
‘And you spent the night in bed?’
‘Has it broken a local bye-law?’
Gently brooded a moment over his pipe, then his mild glance sought Paul’s.
‘Look! I’ve pretty well made my mind up about this business — but not quite. There’s a whole lot of features that keep getting in the way, and I’ve got to know which of them belong and which of them don’t. And I think you could tell me — if you stopped looking on all authority as your natural enemy!’
The young man’s flush sprang burning in his cheek.
‘I’ve told you before-’
‘Yes, I know what you’ve told me before. But things have moved on a bit since then — enquiries don’t stand still, you understand. And what you told me isn’t good enough any longer… that’s what it amounts to.’
Now he looked hard at Paul.
‘We don’t have to be enemies, remember.’
There was a silence between them broken only by the puffing of Gently’s pipe and the jewelled twitter of a reed-warbler somewhere close at hand. Fifty yards away a pair of grebes watched them suspiciously, swimming flat and jerky on the water. Then there was the slightest of chuckles and the grebes had vanished.
‘You mean I’m not under suspicion?’
Gently’s head barely moved to indicate the negative.
‘It was absurd all along — you couldn’t have thought that I did it!’
‘But you’ve made a bad impression.’
‘I don’t care. I’m just not the type!’
It was true, and in more ways than one. Gently tried to conjure up the picture of the frail young man manoeuvring the enormous remains of Cheerful Annie.
‘And if I’m not under suspicion, why can’t you just leave me alone?’
‘I’ve told you… because you’ve got some important information.’
‘And I say I haven’t, so what are you going to do about it?’
‘First, I’m going to tell you just where your mother stands in this business.’
There was no doubt about it being a shock. Paul’s cheek was a barometer to his emotions that a child could read. But Gently was in no hurry to press home his advantage; he puffed contemplatively for a while, his eyes dwelling dreamily on the golden-shadowed stars of the water-lilies.
‘You know… your mother fits the bill rather neatly.’
Paul’s teeth were almost chattering and he had to fight to keep a countenance.
‘I ask you… as one intelligent person to another… don’t you think your mother would be capable of homicide as a last resort?’
Now he had to put his hand on the counter to steady himself.
‘As I read her character it is completely implacable. She has a psychopathic will-power, a destructive will- power. I feel reasonably certain that she would sooner destroy a person than relinquish her hold on him.’
‘No!’ gasped Paul. ‘You don’t understand — she’s had to stand up for herself, that’s all. She isn’t what you say!’
Gently shrugged. ‘You should know…! But to me, as an outsider, that’s the picture. And we have there the motive. Her husband is trying to escape. You’ve got a motive too, but yours isn’t nearly as strong… neither, as you will remember pointing out, are you the type!’
Paul choked, his eyes fixed wildly on the Central Office man.
‘Of course, at first we couldn’t show that your mother knew anything about Linda Brent or your father’s plans to disappear. That made your mother’s position reasonably safe. We might suspect it, but we couldn’t show it, and it’s only the things you can show that impress a jury. But now, I’m afraid, we can show it too.
‘By lunch-time on Friday your mother had all the relevant facts but one.’
‘But she didn’t — she couldn’t have known!’
‘Your father’s whereabouts? No — not at lunch-time! But she took steps to discover it… another point for the jury. And then there’s the matter of the fingerprints on the drawer which contained the gun — her’s of course, superimposed on your father’s — and her lies about her movements — it’s a pretty formidable list!’
Paul’s state was truly pitiable. His shaking made the dinghy vibrate till it produced fine, shivering lines on the glassy surface.
‘She wouldn’t have shot him… she didn’t know anything about the gun!’
‘What do you have to know about a double-action automatic, except to point it and pull the trigger?’
‘She’d have to load it… she couldn’t do that.’
‘Wouldn’t it be loaded, when it was kept handy to deal with burglars?’
‘But she couldn’t… I tell you she couldn’t!’
Gently hunched a shoulder, as though it didn’t matter either way.
‘That won’t be the charge, in any case. We know who pulled the trigger. The charge your mother will face in dock will be conspiracy to murder, and if you think Hicks will shield her, you haven’t followed many cases of this sort! And incidentally, we’ve got Hicks nicely netted. He’s probably under arrest by now.’
‘Stop!’ croaked Paul, scarcely able to speak.
‘I thought you should know the situation.’
‘It isn’t true… you’ve got to listen!’
‘On the facts, we shall have to make a charge.’
‘No… listen to me… only listen! I’ll tell you all that happened on Friday!’
Gently turned to look at him, sitting shrunken and crouched in the stern of the dinghy.
‘Ah!’ he murmured. ‘I was hoping that you would.’
The story that Paul told was as pathetic as its narrator. He hadn’t known a thing about his father’s projected disappearance until the quarrel late at night. For him, the tragedy had been on quite a different key. Even now he seemed unable to get the matter out.
‘You see… she met him at a party.’
His mother had a lover.
‘His name is Henry Marsh… he’s a solicitor in Norchester. Heaven knows what she sees in him! I could tell him for a cad at a glance.’
But his mother had fallen for him, and he for her. There had been a head-over-heels romance lasting three months and during that time Paul’s heart had accounted for quite a number of weeks’ absence from the university.
‘When did all this happen?’
‘She met him at Christmas… it was going on till Easter.’
‘Did they keep it under cover?’
‘I suppose so… anyway, I knew about it!’
‘What about your father?’
Paul shrugged feebly. ‘I couldn’t say what he knew.’
From the beginning Paul had been suspicious and before long he had had a row with his mother. It was then he was made to realize that he had slipped into second place. His mother wouldn’t listen to him. His old influence
