watchman hadn't died. I want whoever killed Brenda to get caught even though whatever they do to him won't be enough. But I didn't want to go to prison myself not for murder which is what I knew I'd get done for even though I never touched the man. That was Ron. I know it doesn't make any difference because I was there anyway, but it was Ron not me that hit him.
'It was all Ron's idea really. Brenda should have met me in the Bay Tree at eight o'clock that night only she didn't turn up. I wasn't all that surprised because we'd had a big row the previous night. It was about how far we should go now we'd got engaged. We'd just got engaged and I thought we could do it, I mean, go all the way now that it was fixed we were going to marry, but she wouldn't. Not inside her. Everything else, but not inside her and I got a bit annoyed and so did she. So when she didn't turn up, I thought she was just carrying on the row.
'Ron was there and we drank together till nearly nine. It was very crowded by then and I was a bit pissed off with being stood up so we went off to have a drive around and see what we could find to do. Ron had a bottle of whisky and we thought we might find some spare and go for a drive. We looked in a couple of places but there wasn't much on and we ended up parked alongside Spinks's warehouse having a drink when Ron said why shouldn't we do it? So we did. It was just a bit of fun till the watchman came. It was dead easy getting in and we'd found a box full of pocket transistors when this old fellow comes through the door, waving a torch. Ron hit him and pushed him over and we ran. We only had a couple of transistors apiece but it didn't matter because like I say it still seemed just a bit of fun.
'But when the car broke down on the way home, we got worried. So Ron stuffed all the transistors up his bomber jacket and he took off with them in case anyone should come along asking questions. The coppers rolled up just a few minutes later so I told them I'd been out with my girl-friend and she'd set off home by herself when the car broke down. Then they tested me and took me in for a blood test so I had to keep on lying especially as I heard they'd found out about the break-in while I was there and the watchman was badly hurt.
'Next morning I tried to ring Brenda at the bank to square things with her, but she wasn't there. And when the police came round to the garage later on and told me she'd disappeared, I was worried sick. Ron said I'd better stick to my story. It'd be daft to say something that incriminated us, then find that Brenda had just gone off somewhere in the huff. I didn't think she had, though. She wasn't that sort of girl. When they came round and told me they'd found her, I was so sick I thought I'd die. I didn't know what to do. I mean, I wasn't thinking at all. I just wanted to curl up. Ron said to keep quiet still because by now the watchman was critical. But it wasn't just that. I just couldn't think of doing anything because all I could think of was Brenda.
'Then the watchman died and I was a bit better by then and wondering what I should do. But when he died it was as bad as ever, so I took off in the car. It got me as far as Watford Gap, then it broke down. I sat around for a bit drinking tea and thinking of hitching a ride to London. But in the end I just crossed the motorway and got a lift back north. I've been living with Ron round at his sister's house since then. I didn’t know what to do after the fight but Janey said it would be all right, Ron had had it coming to him, but it was over now and nothing more would happen. Then Mr Wield, Sergeant Wield that is, came round and I listened and I could see that he was on to us and I decided I'd better get away again.
'I'm really sorry about all this and I'm sorry the watchman's dead and I wish he wasn't but I want to do anything I can to help the police catch whoever it was that killed my Brenda.'
'That'll grab them in the gallery,' said Dalziel. 'There'll be more water in the jury box than on a test match wicket at Manchester.'
'I feel sorry for the lad,' said Wield quietly.
'That's a bad sign, Sergeant. Next thing you'll be putting stamps on your Christmas cards.'
Dalziel yawned. It was eight-thirty on Saturday morning. After Maggs had made his statement the previous night, Dalziel had talked to him earnestly for nearly two hours, going over everything again and again. His instinct had been to explore the new dimensions opened up by the statement instantly, but in the end he had decided to sleep on it, using as a soporific half a bottle of Scotch.
Now he was stretching himself, ready for action.
The news from the hospital was that Dave Lee had had a good night. Better still from Dalziel's point of view had been the confirmation of the hospital diagnosis a perforated ulcer whose condition could hardly have been aggravated by a blow to the stomach. Ludlam too was doing well. He had refused to say anything when questioned briefly after Maggs's statement and the doctor had insisted that the interview be postponed till the morning. But Frankie Pickersgill had talked freely till Janey arrived on the scene and let her split loyalties tear her into hysterics.
'You see what this means, Sergeant,' continued Dalziel.
Wield, who had seen what it meant the minute Tommy had started talking, prepared himself to be amused at the fat man's analysis.
'We haven't got a single sighting of Brenda from the time she left the bank, that's what it means. We weren't bothered as long as we thought she'd met up with Tommy at half-eight. But now things look different. We're back to square one. Every man who's got anything to do with this case, I'll want him checked out again. Before, we were just asking what they were doing at eleven o'clock that night. Now I want to know what they were doing at six o'clock! That bank manager, for instance. Mulgan. You said he was reported to have a bit of a lech going for the girl. Mebbe he offered her a lift into town after work. That schoolteacher too. And Lee, of course. We'll need to get round the lot. I think I'll give Mr Pascoe a ring.'
'I thought it was his day off, sir,' said Wield neutrally. 'And with the Spinks job cleared up, won't we be able to use Mr Headingley's men?'
'There's a lot of loose ends there still. And what will they know about anything anyway?' said Dalziel irritably. 'No, we need men who've got this thing at their fingertips.'
He reached for the phone.
Pascoe answered with a sharp, suspicious Yes? and his tone did not change when he realized who it was.
He listened to Dalziel's digest of Maggs's statement and its implications without comment or question.
'You don't seem all that interested, Peter,' said Dalziel in an injured tone.
'Don't I, sir? I'm sorry. I'm not long up. Ellie hasn't been feeling too well and we had a rather disturbed night.'
'Nowt serious, I hope,' said Dalziel.
'I don't think so. But I reckon she ought to lie on in bed.'
'Best place for her,' said Dalziel expertly. 'These things always happen at weekends.'
'What things?'
'Anything,' said Dalziel. 'But I'm glad it's not serious. Look, I know it's your day off, but if Ellie's just going to be lying around, I'd appreciate it if you could pop in and lend a hand for a couple of hours. After you've taken her breakfast up, of course.'
'Now that's what I call big of you, Andy,' interrupted Ellie's voice.
'Ellie! You've got yourself up after all,' said Dalziel.
'No, I've been eavesdropping on the extension,' she said. 'Early morning calls on Peter's day off always fill me with suspicion.'
'Are you all right, lass? I told you yesterday, this flying wasn't for you in your condition.'
'Flying?' said Pascoe.
'I didn't go flying,' protested Ellie. 'Listen, Andy, I'll do a deal. Peter goes in today, he gets next Friday and Saturday off, no reservations, no conditions, earthquakes, wind and fire not excepted.'
'You have my personal guarantee,' said Dalziel.
'Now hold on,' began Pascoe.
'Soon as you can, Peter,' said Dalziel hastily. 'Ellie, brandy's the stuff, listen to an expert.'
'Brandy? The stuff for what?'
'Owt that Scotch can't cure. Take care!'
Pascoe went slowly up to the bedroom.
'Eavesdropping now, is it?'
'Certainly.'
'What's all this about next Friday?'
'Well, we've got to go down and see my mother sometime and I thought it'd be nice to stay overnight.'
