‘Did you say something, sir?’
Tony Geddes shook his head.
Dover joined in the fun. ‘Mr Geddes isn’t being very cooperative, is he, sergeant? Pity, that. X just hope he doesn’t come to regret it.’
‘Look here,’ — Tony Geddes appealed desperately to them — ‘I didn’t want to get involved in all this in the first place.’
‘Didn’t you, sir?’ MacGregor’s tone was sceptical.
‘No, I didn’t. And Hereward Topping-Wibbley has no damned right to bring my name into it. I’m the last chap to jib at giving a pal a helping hand, but murder’s getting a bit too deep for yours truly. And I don’t care if his uncle is the head of the firm. This isn’t the only job in the world, not by a long piece of chalk it isn’t.’ He glared indignantly around his office. ‘I’ve been thinking about cutting adrift for quite a while now.’
MacGregor caught Dover’s eye and winked. He couldn’t resist it. After all, he’d been so right, hadn’t he? This alibi of Hereward Topping-Wibbley’s obviously wasn’t worth the breath it had been spoken with and he, MacGregor, had been saying that all along. Perhaps the next time the Chief Inspector would pay a little more attention to his opinions. If MacGregor had been a mite less cock-a-hoop at his own cleverness he might have noticed that Dover’s expression was not one of benevolent encouragement.
Tony Geddes was blithely ignorant of the barely declared war which was continually raging between Dover and MacGregor. He, poor soul, just wanted to confess and it was just too bad if he shopped Hereward Topping-Wibbley and ruined Dover’s day in the process. Some people are very selfish.
‘Look,’ he said, turning eagerly to MacGregor, ‘I think I’d better tell you exactly what happened.’
‘It might be a good idea,’ MacGregor agreed dryly.
‘Well, Hereward gave me a tinkle—oh, one day last week some time —and said would I do the old boy-scout act and cover up for him. He wanted to get away from the office one afternoon and would I alibi him. He didn’t want either his wife or the Big Boss to know about it. Well, naturally, I thought he’d found himself a popsie somewhere - and if you’d met his trouble and strife you wouldn’t think that too out of the ordinary. Well, I said I would. What else could I do? Hereward’s by way of being a bit of a chum of mine and it’s well on the cards that he might be my boss one day. A chap’s got to think of his future, hasn’t he? I don’t want to spend the rest of my life checking how many lavatory chains we’ve got in stock. I’m not one to toot the old trombone but I reckon I’m cut out for something a bit better than that. Well, Hereward was very grateful and said he’d do likewise for me one fine day and I said, no, I didn’t fancy these oriental types—all quite innocent chiff-chaff, you see. Well, we fixed up what I’d say and everything, if anybody phoned when he was supposed to be here, and that was that. He said thanks a billion and I said don’t mench and if you can’t be good— be original. I didn’t think any more about it. Nobody did phone up for him so I didn’t have to perjure the old immortal. And even when I heard that old Wibbley’s daughter had been murdered, the tanner didn’t drop. I just assumed this queer husband type of hers did it, especially when you bottles of blue turned the key on him.’
‘What’s made you revise your opinion?’
‘Well, Hereward rang me up just before nosh-time today and sort of said he’d had the cops round and I was going to be decent and stick by his phoney alibi, wasn’t I? Well, that sent a shiver down the old vertebrae, I can tell you! But well, like I said, I’ve got to keep on the sunny side of old Hereward, so I agreed. I feel a double-dyed-in-the-wool tea-caddy about spilling the old beans now but—hell’s ringing bells—I don’t want to be an accessory before and after, do I? A chap’s got to look after his own epidermis, hasn’t he?’
‘What makes you so sure Topping-Wibbley is a murderer?’ demanded Dover furiously.
Tony Geddes clutched his big red ears and twisted them in anguish. ‘Oh God, you don’t mean to say that he didn’t kill her after all? He’s never going to forgive me for this, never. It’s going to be the big chopper for Tony boy, but quick. Fetch me the labour exchange! Well, naturally I assumed you’d got your eagle eye on him — or else why the blue blazes are you here?’
‘Just routine,’ said Dover, looking grumpy. ‘John Perking killed his wife, that’s for sure. Nobody’s any doubts about that.’ A black scowl in MacGregor’s direction. ‘But there was some damned fool woman who claimed she’d seen somebody like Hereward Topping-Wibbley calling at the Perkings’ house. Load of old cod’s wallop, of course, but in our job you’ve got to check these things. We spend three quarters of our time’, he grumbled, ‘following up the damned-fool things the general public tells us. So there you are—nobody’s accusing your friend of murder. If he’d told us properly where he was that afternoon we shouldn’t have come haring off here on a wild-goose chase. Some people have no damned consideration. You can see the state I’m in, can’t you? All got in the line of duty, too. I ought to be in bed now, that’s where I ought to be. Not that anyone gives you any thanks for it.’ He lapsed into a moody silence.
‘Er—quite,’ said Tony Geddes.
MacGregor closed his notebook and put it away in his pocket. ‘And you’ve no idea where Mr Topping-Wibbley was on the afternoon in question, sir?’
Tony Geddes shook his head. ‘No, he didn’t say a dickybird. Look—all this business has put me in a bit of an old fix, hasn’t it? Do
