‘What the blazes are you sniggering about?’
MacGregor came to with a start. ‘Oh, nothing, sir. I was just thinking.’
Dover rolled his eyes towards the ceiling of the hotel lounge. ‘I’ve been lumbered with some stupid ginks of sergeants in my time but you take the flaming biscuit! You’ll be talking to yourself before long and you know what that means, don’t you? They’ll be coming for you in a plain van, laddie.’
‘I shouldn’t be surprised, sir,’ said MacGregor.
Dover grunted. He had a sneaking suspicion that his sergeant was being cheeky but post-prandial somnolence was rapidly setting in. Dover yawned. ‘Well?’
‘Well what, sir?’
‘Did you get through to this laboratory place, you damned fool? That’s what you went for, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, sir. The director will be free to see us any time this afternoon. I said we’d probably be around in about ten minutes.’
‘We’re not in that much of a hurry,’ grumbled Dover.
‘I’m sorry, sir. I thought you said you didn’t want to give them time to cook the books. I must have misunderstood you.’
Dover eyed MacGregor suspiciously. Was that another crack? That was the trouble with these blooming lah-di-dah types. You never knew if they were trying to get a rise out of you or whether it was just the way they spoke. ‘Well’, said Dover, a bit defensively, ‘it stands to reason, doesn’t it? The lab must have made a mistake about Perking.’
MacGregor sighed. ‘Probably, sir.’
‘I don’t trust the medical profession,’ Dover continued moodily. ‘If they didn’t all hang together, there’d be a good few of ’em hanging separately, believe me! And if they’re prepared to cover up criminals amongst their ranks, they’re not going to jib at white-washing a bit of the old incompetence, are they? Oh, I could tell you a few things about doctors and suchlike that’d make your hair stand on end. The things I’ve suffered at their hands with my stomach—I could write a book about it.’
MacGregor was spared further painful revelations by the timely arrival of their chauffeur. He marched through the swing doors of the hotel and stood, waiting respectfully, with his cap under his arm.
Dover wrinkled his nose. Back to the old grindstone! ‘Tell that lackey to hang on a minute,’ he instructed MacGregor. ‘Before we go, you nip off to the phone again and find out what time the trains are back to London. I shouldn’t think we’ll be messing about long at this laboratory place.’
‘You mean —go back to London this afternoon, sir?’
‘Why not? We’re finished here, aren’t we? We’ve solved their blooming case for them, haven’t we? What more do you want, for God’s sake? I’m only going to this lab just to settle the odd point for my own satisfaction. We might have a bit of fun with ’em, too,’ he added with a spiteful grin, ‘if there has been a slip-up. I’ll put the fear of God into ’em, you see if I don’t. Well, come on, laddie! Don’t stand there like a stuffed lemon with duck’s disease!’
‘Are you going to see Mr Wibbley again before we leave, sir?’
‘I should co-co!’ sneered Dover. ‘Who does Mr Wibbley think he is when he’s at home, anyhow? He’s just a big fish in a little pond, that’s all he is. And don’t say anything to that chauffeur fellow. We’ll come back here and pack and get a taxi to the station.’
‘The Chief Constable, sir?’ asked MacGregor, not unused to these ignominious and furtive retreats from the scenes of crimes they had been sent to solve.
‘Stuff him!’
The Rolls-Royce set them down outside the main entrance to the hospital. Dover boggled at the enormous flight of granite steps which rose steeply before them. ‘What happens if you’ve broken your bloody leg?’ he demanded.
‘Oh, I expect they’d carry you up on a stretcher, sir.’
Dover snorted and laboriously began his climb.
‘Oh, look, sir!’
Sullenly Dover followed the line of MacGregor’s pointing finger. A big black cat was leisurely making its way from one side of the steps to the other. As Dover glowered at it it sat down and raised one fat front paw to its mouth.
‘ ’Strewth!’ said Dover.
‘No, hang on a minute, sir! If we give it a chance it might walk right across in front of us.’
Dover, not unwilling to rest his aching feet and straining lungs, could not however repress his innermost thoughts. ‘Have you gone completely off your rocker?’
‘It’s a black cat, sir, and we could do with a bit of luck, couldn’t we? Look, sir, it’s getting up now. Come on, pussikins, there’s a good little pussy-wussy! I think it’s going to walk across, sir. Yes, there it goes! That’s a good old pussy!’
‘Well, swelp me!’ said Dover.
‘Oh, you’ll see, sir,’ —MacGregor smiled fatuously at the cat—‘that’ll bring us good luck, that will. He walked right across in front of us. Do you know, sir,’ —MacGregor, taking the steps two at a time, had somewhat outstripped his Chief Inspector—‘I wouldn’t be surprised if we don’t crack this case wide open.’
‘It’s cracked wide open now, you damned fool!’ panted Dover. ‘And after that little exhibition of yours, nothing would surprise me!’
The entrance hall was vast, echoing and empty, except for a distraught-looking girl behind the reception desk. She was quite pretty so MacGregor turned on his most winsome smile. The girl gazed at him intently as he began to explain what he wanted. He’d hardly got more than
