make use of their skills to establish…’
‘Wilt,’ said the Inspector, ‘Wilt, when I need your advice on how to conduct a murder investigation I’ll not only ask for it but resign from the force.’
‘Well?’ said Wilt.
‘Well what?’
‘Do they match? Do the bloodstains match’ The Inspector studied him grimly. ‘If I told you they did?’ he asked.
Wilt shrugged. ‘I’m not in any position to argue,’ he said. ‘If you say they do, I take it they do.’
‘They don’t,’ said Inspector Flint, ‘but that proves nothing,’ he continued ‘before Wilt could savour his satisfaction. ‘Nothing at all. We’ve got three people missing. There’s Mrs Wilt at the bottom of that shaft…No, don’t say it. Wilt, don’t say it. There’s Dr Pringsheim and there’s Mrs Fucking Pringsheim.’
‘I like it,’ said Wilt appreciatively. ‘I definitely like it’
‘Like what?’
‘Mrs Fucking Pringsheim. It’s apposite.’
‘One of these days, Wilt,’ said the Inspector softly, ‘you’ll go too far.’
‘Patiencewise? To use a filthy expression,’ asked Wilt.
The Inspector nodded and lit a cigarette.
‘You know something, Inspector,’ said Wilt, beginning to feel on top of the situation, ‘you smoke too much. Those things are bad for you. You should try…’
‘Wilt,’ said the Inspector, ‘in twenty-five years in the service I have never once resorted to physical violence while interrogating a suspect but there comes a time, a time and a place and a suspect when with the best will in the world…’ He got up and went out. Wilt sat back in his chair and looked up at the fluorescent light. He wished it would stop buzzing. It was getting on his nerves.
Chapter 12
On Eel Stretch–Gaskell’s map-reading had misled him and they were nowhere near Frogwater Reach or Fen Broad–the situation was getting on everyone’s nerves. Gaskell’s attempts to mend the engine had had the opposite effect. The cockpit was flooded with fuel and it was difficult to walk on deck without slipping.
‘Jesus, G, anyone would think to look at you that this was a goddam oil rig,’ said Sally.
‘It was that fucking fuel line,’ said Gaskell, ‘I couldn’t get it back on.’
‘Say why try starting the motor with it off?’
‘To see if it was blocked.’
‘So now you know. What you going to do about it? Sit here till the food runs out? You’ve gotta think of something.’
‘Why me? Why don’t you come up with something?’
‘If you were any sort of a man…’
‘Shit,’ said Gaskell. ‘The voice of the liberated woman. Comes the crunch and all of a sudden I’ve got to be a man. What’s up with you, man-woman? You want us off here, you do it. Don’t ask me to be a man, uppercase M, in an emergency. I’ve forgotten how.’
‘There must be some way of getting help,’ said Sally.
‘Oh sure. You just go up top and take a crowsnest at the scenery. All you’ll get is a beanfeast of bullrushes.’ Saly climbed on top of the cabin and scanned the horizon. It was thirty feet away and consisted of an expanse of reeds.
‘There’s something over there looks like a church tower,’ she said. Gaskell climbed up
