historical associations, but of a literary sort: plaques on the walls proclaimed that both George Eliot and Alfred Lord Tennyson had spent time there.
They ate in the airy, Danish Modern bar, its cool blues and golds a nice contrast to the brooding, dark-wood ambience of Star Castle. After a light meal of steamed clams and a couple of glasses of Skinner’s Cornish Blonde beer—citrusy and wheaty, and the waiter’s excellent suggestion to accompany the clams—they took their coffee outside to the one of the umbrellaed tables on the terrace overlooking the Old Quay and the outer islands. Julie had considerately failed to mention his promise of the day before to pay for lunch out of his poker winnings, for which he was grateful. They watched the Scillonian ferry disembark its first passenger-load of the day and were on their second cups, silently enjoying the wisps of cloud, the sun-dappled water, and the faint tinge of white mist on the horizon, when Gideon spotted Police Constable Robb going in the hotel’s front door, quite handsome in full uniform; blue tunic, bucket helmet, dark tie and all. Robb saw him at the same time and came over for a friendly hello.
“I’m glad to see you, Dr. Oliver,” he said after he’d been introduced to Julie. “I was hoping to have a chance to speak with you. I’m in for a quick sandwich. All right if I join you?”
“Sure, pull up a chair.”
“I’ll just order inside. Faster that way. Back in a tick.”
“He seems as nice as you said,” Julie remarked as he disappeared inside.
“Oh, a good kid, very nice. It’s Clapper that’s the hard case. I’m telling you, I’d have slugged the guy if he’d treated me the way he treated Robb.”
“Yeah, right,” Julie said, and they both laughed.
When Robb returned with a ham sandwich and a can of English lemonade, the first thing he did was strip off his coat and helmet and lay them neatly on an unused chair.
“Ah, that’s better.” Glaring at the helmet, he massaged his temples. “That thing is like wearing a pail on your head.”
“You can’t wear the soft cap?” Gideon asked. “I saw a couple in your office.”
“Oh, generally, we do, when we wear a cap at all. But I’ve only just come up from quay duty—seeing in the ferry—and the tourists, you know, they like to see them. Well—” He smiled and shrugged. “ ‘A policeman’s lot is not a happy one.” “
“ ‘Taking one consideration with another,” “ Julie recited, which pleased him, and together they sang a few more lines of patter from Pirates of Penzance.
While he ate they engaged in small talk. What did Julie do? (She was a park ranger. “How interesting!”) Where was Robb from? (Bournemouth, on his last three months of a two-year assignment to St. Mary’s.) What was life like in the Scillies? (Quiet.) But Gideon could feel him edging closer to whatever it was he was anxious to talk about, and finally he got there.
“I hope you’ll come by and see the sergeant about that bone again,” he said as he finished the first half of the sandwich and used a napkin to pluck a crumb from the corner of his mouth. “I’m sure you could be a great deal of help on the case.”
“What case?” Gideon asked. “He didn’t seem very interested in opening one yesterday.”
“I grant you, his manner can be a bit, er, unfortunate at times. Sometimes I have to step in and smooth the waters a bit.”
“As you’re doing now?” Julie asked.
“As I’m doing now. But underneath his rough exterior, you see—”
“There lies a heart of gold,” Gideon said.
Robb laughed with patently real amusement. “Well, no, I wouldn’t go so far as to say that, but four out of five days he’s quite approachable, quite genial, even.”
“Obviously, then, I hit him on day five.”
“In a way, yes. Exeter had been nagging him all morning. That always puts him in a foul mood.”
“I see. It wasn’t my personality that set him off, it was just my rotten timing.”
“Very much so,” Robb said, nodding eagerly. “His attitude is entirely different today, entirely. You’d hardly know he was the same man. He’s had me open a case log on the matter, and he’s been hard at the computer, searching for possible leads on that bone ever since.”
Gideon was astonished. “He has? What brought about this change?”
“Well, you see, he telephoned headquarters about it, as required in possible homicide cases. The usual procedure would be for them to send a detective constable from St. Ives to determine if foul play is really a possibility. If so, a detective inspector or perhaps a chief inspector, from Truro or possibly from Plymouth, would be assigned as SIO—that is, as senior investigative officer—”
Gideon hadn’t remembered that Robb was so talky. “I’m afraid I don’t see—”
“Well, the thing is, I gather they pretty much laughed at him— ‘One piece of bone from who knows where, with a few marks on it?” and so on—and implied that the detective force had better things to do, and he was entirely free to pursue it on his own. So that put a different light on it, do you see? It’s his case now, not theirs.“
Gideon pondered. “Look, Constable, did he tell you to ask me to come in again?”
“No, I can’t say that he did, but—”
“Then I don’t see the point. I’m not going to go barging in where I’m not wanted.” He realized as he said it how pompous it sounded and tacked on a gentler addendum. “Of course, if he does ask me, I’d be happy to.”
“I’m sure he will ask you, but, knowing him, it’ll take a few days for him to get around to it. And inasmuch as you said you’d only be here a few days, I was afraid it might be too late by then. Thought I should strike while the iron’s hot.”
