at Castlebridge, was trying to help me keep it with Elton.’
‘You think he was lying?’
‘Like a trooper.’
‘It might have been the truth,’ Setters said.
‘He was lying,’ Gently affirmed. ‘Though it may have been only to oblige a customer. Bixley’s alibi isn’t cast iron. It’s just on the cards he caught up with Lister.’
‘But what was his motive?’ Setters asked.
Gently shrugged. ‘There’s none to date.’
‘I don’t like it,’ Setters said. ‘I wish to Christ we could pick up Elton.’
He lit another cigarette from his butt, smoked silently for a while. The station routine went on outside, voices, feet tramping, a telephone bell. Gently sat poring over the box and reefers, his eyes narrowed and unshifting. Setters sat hugging a bony knee, he’d got the visitor’s chair, it wasn’t comfortable.
‘There’s Dicky Deeming,’ Setters pondered. ‘Do you think he knows what goes on?’
Gently smiled at the box. ‘He plays the big brother,’ he said.
‘He’s got influence with them,’ Setters said. ‘You’ve only to talk to them to find that out. I don’t like him, I don’t like his influence, but he never bothers us.’
‘He’s their high priest,’ Gently said.
‘Yes?’ Setters said. ‘What would that be?’
‘Just high priest,’ Gently said, ‘the one who gives them the law.’
‘This jeebie stuff?’ Setters asked.
Gently nodded. ‘That’s it. It’s Dicky who’s spread the gospel in Latchford. It came to Latchford with Dicky.’
‘I knew I didn’t like him,’ Setters said. ‘I knew there had to be a reason. Hell, I’ll make it tough for Dicky — fetching that stinking stuff in here!’
No.’ Gently shook his head. ‘That’s the wrong sort of treatment. If you make a martyr out of Dicky you’ll play right into his hands. The cult has got a religious twist, it’ll flourish on persecution. So don’t knock it, don’t push it, just ignore it where you can.’
‘Pushing reefers,’ Setters said. ‘Riding bikes like madmen.’
‘That’s where you don’t ignore it,’ Gently said. ‘That’s where you clamp down hard. But don’t touch Dicky for the moment, let him amuse himself with me. His influence has got a credit side. He tries to keep his flock from being rowdy.’
Setters sniffed. ‘Are you on to him for something?’
‘I’m not quite certain,’ Gently said. ‘He’s in this business, and yet he’s detached from it. But he’s certainly on to me.’
‘You mean it was him who set it up today.’
‘He played a big part in it,’ Gently said. ‘But whether it was for devilment or for a reason is something I haven’t settled yet. Perhaps tomorrow’s paper will tell us.’
‘Yeah, perhaps,’ said Setters sourly.
‘He’s a beautiful rider,’ Gently said. ‘He’s got courage, a lot of that.’
The phone jangled. He picked it up. After a moment, Pagram came on.
‘This may seem a bit involved,’ Pagram began. ‘But it could be what you’re after. Does the name of Waters mean anything to you?’
‘Nothing whatever,’ Gently said.
‘Well, one of the chummies we’ve caught is called Waters and his mother was a Lemon.’
‘A Lemon?’ Gently queried.
‘Yes,’ Pagram said. ‘You still sound vague. But Cissie Lemon was his mother and she’s got a sister called Ruby. I’ve got some notes here from a P.C. Noble who swears he knows what he’s talking about.’
‘Go on,’ said Gently patiently.
‘We’re coming to it,’ Pagram said. ‘Now Cissie’s sister married a van driver, and this is where we get the connection. The van driver’s name was Arthur Bixley. I rather think he’s Sidney Bixley’s father.’
‘That’s the one,’ Gently said.
‘I thought it could be,’ Pagram said. ‘So like that Sidney is a cousin of Waters’, and Waters is a member of the Slavinovsky gang. Is that what you wanted?’
‘Roughly speaking,’ Gently said.
‘You were right about the cheese rolls,’ Pagram said. ‘I’m having one analysed down in the lab.’
Gently laid the phone on its rest. He pondered dreamily for a moment.
‘Can we get a search warrant done quickly?’ he asked. Setters nodded. ‘I’ve got one on tap.’
‘Right,’ Gently said. ‘We’re going to search Bixley’s house. And while we’re at it, I think we’d better have Bixley picked up for questioning.’
The Bixleys lived in a terrace house in Breck Hill Road, which lay on the furthest edge of the New Town Area. Though the houses were terraced they were neatly crow-stepped up a gentle rise and this gave to each one a faint air of individuality. The Bixleys lived at fifty-seven, more than halfway up. A light showed in their kitchen, which was situated at the front. Gently rang, and the door was opened by a bow-shouldered man in shirtsleeves. He looked startled to find three men on his doorstep.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘What are you after?’ He kept the door on the balance.
‘Police,’ Gently said. ‘Are you Mr Bixley?’
The bow-shouldered man seemed uncertain.
‘What are you after?’ he repeated. ‘If you want to talk to Sid, he isn’t in just now.’
‘We have a search warrant,’ Gently said, producing it. ‘I tell you Sid’s not here,’ said the man.
‘It’s made out for the premises,’ Gently said. ‘We’ll have to come in, Mr Bixley.’
The man frowned at it, looked puzzled, then backed away from the door. Gently entered with Setters and Ralphs. They stood in a small hall which contained the staircase.
‘You’ll have to wait a mo’,’ the man said. ‘Maybe Ruby ain’t respectable.’
He stuck his head round the kitchen door.
‘Right you are,’ he said.
They followed him into the kitchen. It was a small room with a coke-fired boiler. It contained a dining table, two old armchairs, three straight-back chairs and a television set. From one of the armchairs a woman had risen and she was hastily dragging on a skirt. She stared angrily at the intruders, shoving in her blouse with stumpy fingers.
‘Arter,’ she said. ‘What do you mean letting these men in here, Arter?’
Arter wagged his bow-shoulders. ‘I couldn’t help it, Ruby,’ he said. ‘They got a warrant and everything. I told them Sid wasn’t in.’
‘That ain’t no reason,’ Ruby said. ‘You don’t have to let them in like this.’
She was a big, formidable woman with arms like pale, freckled hams. She was a good deal larger than her husband. Her husband had a sad, colourless face.
Gently said:
‘I’m afraid we must inconvenience you, Mrs Bixley. We’ve reason to think that your son is concealing prohibited drugs in this house. We’ve come to search it, also I’d like to ask you some questions about him. The questions can wait, if you like, till you’ve watched us make the search.’
‘Ho,’ she said. ‘Well, you put it like a gentleman, don’t you?’
She eased the blouse out a little, buttoned it across her straining brassiere.
‘You won’t find nothing here,’ she said, ‘prying into all our little affairs. But you can look, that’s all right. Arter can see you don’t pinch nothing.’
Setters with Ralphs made a businesslike beginning in the kitchen, but apart from the built-in cupboards and a small pantry it contained few likely places of concealment. Setters poked the two armchairs and turned them over to inspect the springs. Ralphs moved a rug, trod heavily about the stained boards which formed the floor. Mrs Bixley watched them aggressively. Arter rolled himself a fag.
‘That’s about it,’ Setters said, after stirring in a flour-bin and replacing it.
