‘I told you so!’ trumpeted Dover. He turned to Superintendent Underbarrow. ‘Well, and what are you doing about it?’
‘We’re continuing our investigations, of course, and . . .’
‘Continuing your investigations?’ howled Dover. ‘My bloody life’s in danger and all you’re doing is continuing your investigations?’
‘We’re keeping a constable on guard at the bottom of the stairs,' explained Superintendent Underbarrow easily. ‘Don’t worry, old chap, we’ll look after you.’
‘Suppose they try again?’
‘Then we’ll catch ’em,’ said the superintendent with a quiet confidence that was clearly not infectious. ‘Actually, that’s more or less what I’ve popped up to see you about. It’s really Inspector Stokes’s job, of course, but he’s a bit tied up at the moment so I said I’d give him a hand. You see, there’s no two ways about it. The best protection we can give you is to collar this joker before he gets a second chance at you.’
‘Well, you won’t collar him lolling up here on your backside!’ snarled Dover who could see himself lying in a pool of blood while this pack of gibbering idiots discussed the weather over his corpse.
‘Of course not,’ agreed Superintendent Underbarrow soothingly. He’d met people with cold feet before and reckoned he knew how to deal with them. ‘But we’ll need your help, won’t we? If anybody’s likely to know who’s gunning for you, it’s you yourself, isn’t it? Now, you just have a bit of think about it. Who’s got it in for you?’
‘Ah,’ said Dover, beginning to relax, ‘now you’re asking, aren’t you?’
‘I imagine you’ve made a good few enemies in your time,’ prompted the superintendent dryly.
Dover preened himself. ‘Hundreds. Thousands, probably. It’s the penalty you have to pay for being successful. Why, half the crooks behind bars at this very moment are there because of me. And then there are all the ones who’ve done their time. Oh, the country must be swarming with villains who’ve got a grudge against me. You can’t really blame them,’ he added with phoney generosity. ‘If it hadn’t been for me outwitting ’em, they’d be walking around free as air.’
‘Yes,’ said Superintendent Underbarrow dubiously. ‘So you think it could be a bit of your past catching up with you?’
‘I wish I had a pound for every time I’ve been threatened with vengeance, by golly I do! I’d be a rich man now, I can tell you.’
MacGregor listened with wide-eyed incredulity. During his association with the chief inspector — which was admittedly nothing like as long as it felt – you could number his successful cases on the fingers of one hand. Crooks who could claim that they’d been outwitted by Dover must be very few and far between. Of course, he had brought a few cases to a satisfactory conclusion but that only proved that there were some baddies who were even more thick-headed than he was. Oh, yes – MacGregor repressed a wicked grin – and there was that poor devil of a murderer who was so exasperated by Dover’s bumbling inefficiency that he’d actually confessed to put an end to it.
MacGregor surfaced from his scurrilous reminiscences to find that Superintendent Underbarrow was looking at him. ‘Fm sorry, sir. Did you say something?’
‘I was just wondering if you could help us out with a few names, sergeant.’
‘Names, sir? Oh,’ – MacGregor squirmed in some embarrassment – ‘well, not offhand, sir.’
‘Most of ’em were before his time!’ snapped Dover before the superintendent could give expression to his evident surprise.
‘Yes, come to think of it, I suppose they would be.’ Superintendent Underbarrow scratched his chin thoughtfully. ‘Well, we’ll look into that aspect of it, of course, but I’d be surprised if we found any of your old sparring partners in Sully Martin. There aren’t many strangers knocking around and none of the local people have ever been mixed up in serious crimes, as far as I know. I suppose’ – he looked questioningly at Dover – ‘you’d recognize the fellow if you’d ever seen him before?’
‘Never forget a face,’ bragged Dover.
Superintendent Underbarrow leaned back against the foot of the bed. ‘I must say I’d have thought we’d have done a bit better to start looking nearer home.’
Dover’s heart missed a beat. Nearer home? God, why hadn’t he thought of that before? He went cold as he thought of the risks he’d been running. Talk about nursing a viper in your bosom! Of all the ungrateful young bastards!
Superintendent Underbarrow was rather disconcerted to find that Dover was sliding down the bed towards him, pulling some very peculiar faces as he did so.
‘Get rid of him!’ mouthed Dover.
‘What?’
Dover flapped his hands wildly and then tried to enjoin silence by placing one fat finger warningly across his lips.
MacGregor, intrigued by the soft scuttlings going on behind him, turned round.
Dover greeted him with a cheery smile. ‘Ah, sergeant,’ he said quickly, trying to look unconcerned, ‘there’s – er – something I want you to do for me.’
‘What’s that, sir?’
The cheery smile ripened as Dover endeavoured to think of something. ‘Mrs Boyle’s handbag!’ he gasped desperately as he blurted out the first thing that came into his head.
‘Mrs Boyle’s handbag, sir?’
‘That’s right, sergeant.’
MacGregor had schooled himself over the years to be surprised at nothing. If the old fool wanted Mrs Boyle’s handbag, presumably he could have it. ‘Very good, sir. Do you want me to get it now?’
‘Please!’ cooed Dover, so distraught that he didn’t even choke over the word.
MacGregor left the bedroom and, as soon as the door was shut behind him, Dover flung himself on Superintendent Underbarrow.
‘Quick!’ he hissed. ‘Before he comes back!’
The superintendent was an exceptionally well-adjusted man and he resolutely rejected the obvious explanation for this passionate assault. Very calmly and quietly he tried to loosen Dover’s grip on his arm. ‘Now, steady on, old chap! There’s nothing to get worked up about.’
‘Nothing to get worked up about?’ screamed Dover. ‘You great gibbering oaf! You let me get shut up in here all
