me ‘Inspector’?”
The hotel manager looked flustered. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “Our regular inspection from Health and Safety is due today, and I just assumed that you were their representative.”
“Well, I’m not.”
“No, I’m very sorry about the confusion,” the hotel manager, all urbane charm, apologized. “So what
“I understand you have a Mrs Pargeter staying here…”
“That is correct, yes.”
“Do you happen to know if she is in the hotel at the moment?”
“Yes, Inspector Wilkinson, she is.”
“Oh well, I’d be very grateful if…” Once again suspicion surfaced in the Inspector’s eyes. “Just a minute. Why did you call me ‘Inspector Wilkinson’?”
“Oh, um, well…” Fluster returned to the hotel manager’s manner. “The thing is, the gentleman I was expecting from Health and Safety was called ‘Inspector Wilkinson’, and I’m afraid I must have still been thinking of that. You know how it is… once one gets an idea fixed in one’s mind…”
“Yes,” said Wilkinson, not entirely convinced.
“Anyway, you were asking about Mrs Pargeter…”
“Yes. Could you please ring up to her room –”
“Suite.”
“To her suite, and ask if she would be free to have a word with me?”
“Of course.” The hotel manager reached for an old-fashioned telephone on the desk and started dialling a number.
“You haven’t asked me what my name is.”
“What?”
“You don’t know who I am. Do you normally announce unidentified visitors to your residents?”
“No, no, of course I don’t.” A button was pressed to stop the phone from ringing. “What name should I say, sir?”
“My name is Inspector Wilkinson.”
“Good heavens!” The hotel manager seemed to have something troubling his throat. But for the fact that there was nothing funny in the situation, Wilkinson could almost have imagined the man was trying to suppress a laugh. “Well, what a remarkable coincidence. That you and the Health and Safety inspector should both have the same… I don’t know, it’s the kind of thing, if you read it in a book, you wouldn’t believe it.”
A trembling hand once again dialled the relevant number, and this time got through. “Ah, Mrs Pargeter. It’s Mr Clinton down at the front desk. I have a gentleman who would like to have a word with you.” He seemed to be having some problem with something in his mouth, and started coughing. Through his coughs – which somehow didn’t quite sound like coughs he managed to say, “His name… is Inspector… Craig… Wilkinson…” The coughing continued as he put the phone down and turned back to the visitor. “She says…” he croaked, “that… she’ll come down to the bar… straight away…”
“Oh, fine. Whereabouts is the…?” But suspicion once again waylaid the Inspector. “Just a minute. Why did you call me ‘Inspector
“No, no, you didn’t…” Fluster and coughing fought for control of the unfortunate hotel manager. “No, no, I think, um… Do you know, you’re not going to believe this…”
“Try me,” said Wilkinson implacably.
“… but the first name of the Inspector who was due from Health and Safety was also Craig.”
There was a silence. Then the Inspector shrugged. “Oh well, that
A trembling finger pointed and he followed its direction. Fortunately he was actually inside the bar and out of earshot before Hedgeclipper Clinton’s control finally gave up the unequal struggle.
? Mrs Pargeter’s Point of Honour ?
Twenty-Four
“Now what will you have to drink? Champagne?” asked Mrs Pargeter, once they were settled into the luxury of the bar.
Wilkinson looked at his watch. “It’s only four o’clock in the afternoon.”
“Yes, I know, but what I like about champagne is that it has no respect for the hour of the day. Come on, surely you’ll have something?”
He stroked his moustache dubiously. “Well, I’m not sure…”
“Is it the old ‘no, not while I’m on duty’ thing?”
“No, no, it’s not that.”
“Do you mean you’re
“No. Not exactly. I mean, I am, in a manner of speaking on duty. A good copper, you know, is never off duty. Always alert, always looking out for tiny things, for those tell-tale details which don’t seem significant at the time, but which later turn out to be relevant.”
“Yes, of course. And often, I find, one’s eye is sharper to spot those tiny things after one’s had a drink or two.” An almost imperceptible flick of a finger brought the barman gliding to her side. “Now, you will join me, won’t you?”
Wilkinson melted under the violet-blue beam that was focused on him. “Well, all right, that’d be very nice, thank you.”
“Now, are you happy with champagne?”
“Erm, well…” He looked awkward. “I’m really more of a beer man myself.”
“You have beers, don’t you, Leon?”
The barman nodded. “Of course. Which would you like, sir? There’s the Narodni Urquel from Czechoslokavia, Mexican Sombrero, Tiger Tail from India, Australian Sheepshearer’s Armpit, Japanese Tikkoo, San Felipe from Chile, Ghanaian Lion’s Breath or Icelandic Grurttstoffstrottir.” Wilkinson opened his mouth to reply, but wasn’t quick enough. “Then, of course, from America we have Beckweiser, Buck’s, Cools, Boston Steam Packet and beers from microbreweries in Monterey, Galveston and New Paltz.”
“Hmm,” said the Inspector. “You don’t by any chance have a pint of English bitter, do you?”
“I could send out for one, sir,” the barman replied.
“Well, if you could, I’d be most grateful.”
“Of course. So, Mrs Pargeter, will it just be a half-bottle of the champagne for you?”
“Oh, no, make it a full one. I’m sure it’ll get drunk.” The barman nodded agreement. “Just so long as I don’t, eh?”
She giggled and, while Leon went off to fix their order, turned her full attention on Inspector Wilkinson. “Now what can I do for you?”
The Inspector lit up a cigarette, before he began. “Well…”
She interrupted, “I would just like to take this opportunity to thank you for all you do.”
“Me? But you don’t know what I do.”
“I didn’t mean you specifically. I meant you as a representative of the British Police Force. I just wanted to say that you’re a wonderful band of men, and I’m sometimes afraid that all your hard work gets a little bit under- appreciated.”
The hotel manager, who was passing through the bar at that moment, seemed suddenly to be afflicted by another bout of coughing.
“That’s all I wanted to say,” Mrs Pargeter concluded, “but it’s just something that I don’t think gets said often enough.”
“No, well, I would go along with that,” Inspector Wilkinson agreed.
“You belong to a fine body of men, and I can see that you’re a fine man yourself. And I think everyone should help the police whenever they possibly can. You do a tough job and, if there’s anything a member of the public can
