Dumpty meet two years ago when Humpty is sponsoring him for early release. Dumpty gets Thomm a job, which he keeps until the same time as the woodcutter and his wife are murdered.”
He paused for a moment.
“I’d say almost certainly that Tom Thomm killed the woodcutter and brought the gold to Dumpty to sell.”
“Sir?”
“Yes, Baker?”
“I thought the Russian mafia killed the woodcutter? Chymes’s investigation of the case was well documented in
“Then let’s say Tom
“Could Tom Thomm have killed Dumpty?”
“It’s possible, but why? Tom Thomm wouldn’t have been able to sell the gold any more efficiently than Dumpty. Either way, we need to find this Thomm fellow. He’s a strong link in the whole inquiry. Yes, Baker?”
“Rumplestiltskin is still inside,” he said, turning from the Police National Computer terminal. “He didn’t supply the gold.”
“Good. Where was I?”
“Buying Spongg shares?”
“Right. Humpty uses the gold to buy thirty-eight percent of Spongg stock, but for the last year he has been in hiding at Grimm’s Road. On Sunday night he has a voluble argument with a Miss Bessie Brooks, who we can’t find, goes to the Spongg Charity Benefit, gets completely plastered and offers his entire Spongg holding to Solomon Grundy. Grundy turns him down flat, and Humpty tells him that his stock will be worth a lot more ‘this time next year.’ Humpty then blurts out that he will pledge fifty million to rebuild St. Cerebellum’s, is taken home in Randolph Spongg’s own car and six hours later he’s shot dead.”
“He thought the share price would go up,” observed Mary.
“Exactly. Spongg prices are dropping daily, but he’s still buying, so he knows something we don’t. He goes to sit on his wall to sleep off the booze, and someone comes up behind him and shoots from a range of three to four feet with a.44 caliber. What did Mrs. Singh say the time of death was?”
“Between one and three A.M.”
“Right. Humpty collapses stone dead into the backyard of 28, Grimm’s Road, where he is discovered by his landlady at seven-thirty A.M. It was raining, so a lot of evidence has been washed away. The following day his ex- wife confesses to his murder and then kills herself — she didn’t do it but must have
He stopped and looked at them all.
“I don’t think we’re halfway there yet. Any questions?”
“Wee Willie Winkie,” said Gretel.
“A good point. Winkie was Humpty’s next-door neighbor and is violently murdered early this morning. It’s possible he saw something and tried to blackmail them, but we don’t know for sure. Same as this white van that was seen outside Humpty’s and also where we found Winkie. Bear it in mind, but it could be nothing.”
“Don’t Winsum and Loosum’s use white vans?”
“Yes — and half the companies in Berkshire. Any questions?”
There weren’t. They all knew what they had to do.
“One other thing,” said Jack. “A certain DCI named Friedland Chymes wants to take over this investigation and will do almost anything to do so. I want all approaches from him or a member of his staff reported to me. Let’s keep gossip to a minimum, too. Okay, that’s it. Find me Thomm and where Humpty has been living this past year, and we need to speak to Bessie Brooks.”
There was an unseemly rush for the only available chairs. Gretel, as usual, won.
“What do you think about Winkie?” asked Jack.
“I’m not sure,” replied Mary. “If he’d been shot with a.44 caliber, I might be a bit more positive. He might simply have been mugged; the fifty-pound notes could have been his.”
“I agree. Listen: If we can discover Humpty’s plan for raising his share value, we’ll find the motive for killing him.”
“Then why don’t we speak to Spongg again?” suggested Mary. “After all, he stood to gain far more than Humpty ever did from a hike in the share prices.”
28. Castle Spongg
NAIL SOUP FAD SPREADS
The popularity of Nail Soup continues to spread across Reading this week with the news that Smileyburger has added Nailburger to its product list and the makers of Cup-A-Soup, Pot Noodle and Walkers Crisps are introducing “nail flavor” to their product lines. The tasty and healthy concoction that consists only of a nail and hot water has baffled nutritionists and scientists for some months. “It’s very odd,” declared a leading food expert yesterday, “but the nutritional benefits of nail soup are indisputable — yet fly in the face of established scientific thought, which states that a nail and hot water should be no more nutritious than hot water with a nail in it, which isn’t nutritious at all. I have to admit it’s got us stumped.” Despite the confusion of the scientific community, the tasty snack continues to find favor with young and old alike, many of whom have improved upon the original recipe with a few garnishings of their own, such as salt, pepper, potatoes, cabbages, leeks, carrots, lentils and chopped bacon.
Randolph wasn’t at the factory that day, he was at home. And “at home” for the Sponggs meant only Castle Spongg, the extraordinary neosurrealist building constructed in the thirties by the brilliant yet certifiable Dr. Caligari. Many people argued over the artistic merits of Castle Spongg, but there was one descriptive word that everyone agreed upon: “bizarre.”
Jack and Mary slowed to a stop outside the ornate wrought-iron gates of the main entrance. The gatehouse looked ordinary enough, but it was designed to give the illusion that it had sunk into the earth. The lodge was tilted at thirty degrees and was submerged to the top of the front door; the upstairs window served as the entrance and exit. They pulled through the open gates onto the drive, which was straight and flat but seemed to be a crudely mended patchwork of concrete and asphalt.
“You’d have thought he’d maintain it a bit better,” said Mary as the tires rumbled and squeaked on the different road surfaces.
“It’s not in poor repair,” said Jack, who had been to visit the Castle Spongg grounds on a few occasions. “If you drive at precisely twenty-nine miles per hour, the rumble strips play ‘Jerusalem’ on the car tires. Listen.”
Mary slowed to the correct speed and listened as they drove along. It
They drove on through the immaculately kept gardens with not a blade of grass looking out of place. “They call Castle Spongg the ‘jewel of the Thames Valley,’” said Jack. “The landscaped park was designed by the less- well-known ‘Incomprehensible’ Greene. See that reservoir?”
Mary looked to her left, where a footprint-shaped lake stretched away from them. Groves of silver birches grew where the soft, undulating parkland met the water. “Yes?”
“Greene installed large hydraulic rams in the lake bed that move up and down to give the effect of an Atlantic storm in winter. There is a sailing ship complete with torn sails and broken rigging down there — also on hydraulic rams — that can be made to founder and sink at the flick of a switch.”
