his colleague for a second, then followed them.
Left alone together, the two soldiers sat in silence for a while, Arrow staring directly across the table at Richards.
I've been in places like this before,' said the little man eventually, in a quiet, matter-of-fact tone. 'With people like you. They all expected me to beat seven different colours of shit out of them. Some of them even wanted me to. But I 'ardly ever had to. I'll grant you, there have been some cases when both of us knew that someone wasn't going to walk out of the room. But either way, even when some bugger thought he was too tough for me, I always wound up hearing what I needed to hear. Now Stephen, look me in the eye' He fixed his gaze on the young officer, and held it there, unblinking.
`Did Stewart Morelli ask you to make a device for him?'
`No.' The voice trembled slightly.
`Did Ariadne?'
`No'
‘ Did anyone?'
`Where would I have got the explosives?'
`That isn't an answer. Your regimental records are okay, but that doesn't mean anything.
You could have pulled our Special Forces trick and taken the HE out of a heavy shell, for use in covert operations. The shell gets marked down as a dummy on the live firing range.'
He paused. 'Now, did anyone else ask you to make a device?'
`No, sir.'
`Not Maurice?'
'No, absolutely not.'
Arrow nodded. He broke his gaze, as if allowing the young man a few moments rest then fixed it on him once more. `Let's talk about your brother. Did you get together often?'
'As often as we could.'
Did he ever talk about his job, since he moved into Private Office?'
`No, he didn't like to. It depressed him.'
`Did he ever talk about his wife?'
`Yes. All the time. From the earliest days, he would go on about her affairs.'
`That must have been very difficult for you, when you knew that it was true.'
`Yes, it was. But I regarded it as a sort of self-fulfilling prophecy.'
And you lusted after her yourself, anyway.' Arrow gave a short laugh, with no humour in it.
'Did Maurice ever ask you about your work, about the technical side?'
Occasionally.'
`Did he ever ask you about assembling devices?'
Richards's eyes narrowed, but he did not turn them away from Arrow's stare. 'Yes, he did.'
And what did you tell him?'
It was all conversational. I just told him the basics, that you take your HE, stick in detonators and set up a wiring circuit, to be completed either by a timer or a mechanical trigger.'
`Was Maurice a technically-minded man?'
'He wasn't an idiot; as I recall he had Physics A-level. But he always had people in to do jobs around the house.'
What did Maurice think of Colin Davey?' Arrow asked suddenly.
Richards blinked. 'He thought he was a shit. That's the thing about Maurice. He was never really cut out for MOD. Shits all over the place in the Services. Like Davey, like you — like me I suppose. But you can't be wholly nice and still be efficient in a business where the ultimate speciality is killing people.'
With the speed of a striking snake, Arrow's right hand flashed across the table and slapped Richards, open- palmed, across the face. 'True, that is. You can't be,' he said coldly. 'And don't you ever call me a shit again.'
The younger man's head snapped sideways with the force of the blow. He stared at Arrow, in surprise and fright, a red weal growing on his left cheek.
Did Maurice think that Ariadne was having an affair with Davey?'
`Maurice thought everyone was having an affair with her,' said the Lieutenant, his voice shaking. 'Except Morelli and me, that is.'
Arrow's left hand flashed out. A second slap cracked around the small room. This time Richards howled.
`That's very neat,' said the little man, with a smile that was not in the slightest amused.
'You've really put your brother in the frame for it, haven't you? And you reckon I'll believe that because it's the easiest option. But Ariadne still had complete access to that box.
`Now,' he said, still smiling, grabbing the younger man's right hand in his and beginning to squeeze his knuckles together. `Who asked you to make the device? Was it Morelli, or was it her?'
EIGHTY-FIVE
‘What about this Sawyer fellow, Andrew? What do you make of him?' Sir James Proud looked odd on the monitor screen, his form made even squarer and his uniform even bulkier by the video link.
Martin wondered for a moment about his Chief, dressing officially for a trip to London to interview two suspects, but realised that it was entirely in character. Proud Jimmy needed his uniform like a medieval knight needed his armour or a Judge his wig and red robe, to show who and what he was, and to help him impress his authority. Still, thought the detective, it doesn't make him any the less of a copper.
I doubt, sir,' he replied, 'whether I've ever seen a stronger chain of circumstantial evidence pointing to a person's guilt. He has motive, expertise, materials, and we've established his presence at the scene. He hasn't wavered once in his belief that the world's a better place without Colin Davey. There's only one problem. He won't admit it.' He looked into the small camera above the screen. 'What about the people you have down there?'
The Chief shook his silver head. 'That's the second problem, Chief Superintendent.
Everything you've said about Sawyer, I can say about them. Morelli and Tucker are paramours. Morelli now admits that he promoted Noble into a job for which he wasn't competent to increase his access to his wife. Then there's Noble himself, a very depressed and unstable man. It's confused, Andy, very confused.'
`What about the soldier?'
Arrow gave him a good going over. He didn't bash him about or anything… well, not too much… but he didn't incriminate anyone, other than by implication, his brother. I tell you man, we could go on all bloody night!'
Martin nodded. 'So what will we do, sir?' he asked.
The sensible thing,' replied the Chief. 'I'm bringing all three suspects-'
`Morelli too?'
Aye, Morelli too; I'm playing no favourites!.. up to Edinburgh. I'm going to have them all interviewed, and Sawyer too, by the Procurator Fiscal. We'll give him a hatful of possibilities. It's his job to decide which one he's going to charge.'
If any,' muttered Martin.
Aye, Andy lad. If any!'
EIGHTY-SIX
‘One. Two. Three. Four. Five.' Skinner's eyes were closed on `Three'.
`We're moving on, Bob,' said O'Malley in a voice not much above a whisper, 'from where we found the doll. There's Inspector McGuinness, Constable Pender, and you. Where are we headed?'
`We're moving towards the nose section of the plane,' said the young man's voice.
'Towards the cockpit, where it's crumpled into the mud. There's been no fire there, only wreckage. The
