and Scrapper Blackwell while he tried to let the information that filled his mind drift and form itself into new patterns.
Bizarre as it all seemed, a number of things began to come together. The problem was that one theory seemed to cancel out the other.
The doorbell woke him from a light nap just before ten o’clock. The tape had long since ended and the ice had melted in his second Scotch.
“Sorry I’m so late, sir,” Richmond said, “but I’ve just finished.”
“Come in.” Banks rubbed his eyes. “Sit down. A drink?”
“If you don’t mind, sir. Though I suppose I am still on duty. Technically.”
“Scotch do? Or there’s beer in the fridge.”
“Scotch will do fine, sir. No ice, if you don’t mind.”
Banks grinned. “I’m getting as bad as the Americans, aren’t I, putting ice in good Scotch. Soon I’ll be complaining my beer is too warm.”
Richmond fitted his long athletic body into an armchair and stroked his moustache.
“By the way you’re playing with that bit of face fungus there,” Banks said, “I gather you’ve succeeded.”
“What? Oh, yes, sir. Didn’t know I was so obvious.”
“Most of us are, it seems. You’d not make a good poker player-and you’d better watch it in interrogations. Come on then, what did you find?”
“Well,” Richmond began, consulting his notebook, “I did exactly as you said, sir. Hung around discreetly near Tim and Abha’s place. They stayed in all afternoon.”
“Then what?”
“They went out about eight, to the pub I’d guess. And 289
about half an hour later that blue Escort pulled up and two men got out and disappeared into the building. They looked like the ones you described. They must have been waiting and watching somewhere nearby, because they seemed to know when to come, allowing a bit of a safety margin in case Tim and Abha had just gone to the shop or something.”
“You didn’t try to stop them from getting in, did you?”
Richmond seemed shocked. “I did exactly as you instructed me, sir, though it felt a bit odd to sit there and watch a crime taking place. The front door is usually left on the latch, so they just walked in. The individual flats are kept locked, though, so they must have broken in. Anyway, they came out about fifteen minutes later carrying what looked like a number of buff folders.”
“And then what?”
“I followed them at a good distance, and they pulled into the car-park of the Castle Hotel and went inside. I didn’t follow, sir-they might have noticed me.
And they didn’t come out. After they’d been gone about ten minutes, I went in and asked the desk clerk about them and got him to show me the register. They’d booked in as James Smith and Thomas Brown.”
“How imaginative. Sorry, carry on.”
“Well, I rather thought that myself, sir, so I went back to the office and checked on the number of the car. It was rented by a firm in York to a Mr Cranby, Mr Keith J. Cranby, if that means anything to you. He had to show his licence, of course, so that’s likely to be his right name.”
“Cranby? No, it doesn’t ring any bells. What happened next?”
“Nothing, sir. It was getting late by then so I thought I’d better come and report. By the way, I saw that barmaid, Glenys, going into the hotel while I was waiting outside. Looked a bit sheepish, she did, too.”
“Was Cyril anywhere in sight?”
“No. I didn’t see him.”
“You’ve done a fine job, Phil,” Banks said. “I owe you for this one.” {“What’s it all about?”
290
“I’d rather not say yet, in case I’m wrong. But you’ll be the second to find out, I promise. Have you eaten at all?”
“I packed some sandwiches.” He looked at his watch. “I could do with a pint, though.”
“There’s still beer in the fridge.”
“I don’t like bottled beer.” Richmond patted his flat stomach. “Too gassy.”
“And too cold?”
Richmond nodded.
“Come on, then. We should make it in time for a jar or two before closing. My treat. Queen’s Arms do you?”
“Fine, sir.”
The pub was busy and noisy with locals and farm lads in from the villages. Banks glanced at the bar staff and saw neither Glenys nor Cyril in evidence. Pushing his way to the bar, he asked one of the usual standin barmaids where the boss was.
