Dover’s chins sagged and even MacGregor blinked in amazement. This knowledge had, after all, been their trump card.
It was left to MacGregor to try and regain the initiative while Dover slumped back to his usual slough of indolence. ‘Why then was the accommodation booked in the name of the Dockwra Society?’
Mr Weemys could answer questions like that until the cows came home. He treated MacGregor to a moving sermon on the difficult position in which’ the Steel Band found itself, surrounded as it was by vicious enemies, most of whom were dirty foreigners and communists. ‘These Red subversives are everywhere,’ explained Mr Weemys with a wintry smile, ‘and only too ready to misrepresent us in any way they can. All our actions and motives are savagely distorted and we have learned the hard way how maliciously our public image can be tarnished. Now, this whole Knapper business was a matter purely of private and internal discipline. It had nothing to do with anybody outside the movement at all. It was a scandal, of course, of the sort which no political party or organisation cares to have splashed all over the media. We naturally tried to keep it quiet. That’s understandable, isn’t it? And reserving accommodation in a holiday camp under an assumed name is not a criminal offence of any kind. If it were,’ – Mr Weemys widened his death’s head smile – ‘there would be a marked reduction in the number of Smiths spending the weekend in Brighton.’
‘Are you admitting, sir, that Mr Ruscoe here took part in an illegal trial at Bowerville-by-the-sea?’
‘In an unofficial trial, sergeant, not an illegal one. There is nothing illegal about the proceedings of a disciplinary committee. London clubs, trade associations, professional bodies of all sorts, including the police, have the right to expel unsatisfactory members of their organisations without reference to any external body whatsoever.’
‘They don’t have the right to subject them to further punishment, sir, like executing them.’
Mr Weemys stroked the meagre strand of hair which had been spread carefully across his bald patch. ‘Oh, I quite agree, sergeant, and I’m happy to be able to assure you that no such punishment was inflicted on Mr Knapper by the ad hoc committee of which Mr Ruscoe was a member. Mr Ruscoe and his colleagues simply heard the evidence against Knapper and listened to his defence. They then considered the facts, decided that he was guilty of betraying the principles of our movement,
and expelled him from the Steel Band, as they were empowered to do.’
‘And that’s all, sir?’
‘That is all, sergeant.’
MacGregor was having to think very fast. The questioning was reaching a delicate stage and the last thing he wanted was Dover opening his mouth and sticking his foot in it. MacGregor turned to Mike Ruscoe who was perched on the edge of a packing case and looking vicious. ‘Was Mr Knapper kept under guard while this “trial” was taking place?’
Mike Ruscoe looked across at Mr Weemys.
Mr Weemys shook his head.
‘No,’ said Mike Ruscoe.
‘What about meals?’ asked MacGregor.
‘What about ’em?’
MacGregor sighed. ‘Did he take all his meals in the public dining room with the rest of you?’
Mike Ruscoe looked across at Mr Weemys.
Mr Weemys nodded his head.
‘Yes,’ said Mike Ruscoe.
‘We have reason to believe that Mr Knapper took lunch on the Saturday in a room in one of the huts while you stood guard over him.’
Mike Ruscoe was lost way back and Mr Weemys took over.
‘Reason to believe, sergeant?’ he queried with some amusement.
‘I’m not at liberty to reveal my sources, sir.’
‘Should the matter ever come to court,’ said Mr Weemys indifferently, ‘you may have to. Meanwhile I should warn you that I will be able to put six witnesses in the box who will swear on oath that Knapper was never at any time kept under guard nor was his liberty of movement impeded in any way whatsoever.’
This spelt out so clearly which way the land lay that even Dover got the message. The Steel Band had produced their story and would stick to it. It might even, thought Dover dejectedly, be bloody true. This would mean that the Special Branch laddie was lying in his teeth but, then, mendacity was second nature to that lot. On the other hand, why should he lie? Dover’s brow creased in thought but his little grey cells balked at having to labour without some external assistance. Dover looked up. ‘Got a fag, laddie?’
MacGregor shook his head. ‘You smoked all mine on the train, sir.’
Dover scowled. There were bloody shops, weren’t there? He appealed to Mike Ruscoe.
Mike Ruscoe got very uptight about it. Nicotine spelt certain death to the body beautiful and Mr Ruscoe did not, never had and never would indulge in such a dangerous and dirty habit. It was for Mike Ruscoe something of an oration, especially as he made it without any help from his lawyer.
When his turn came, Mr Weemys managed a deprecating little smile. ‘I’m afraid I’m a snuff man, myself.’
All of which left MacGregor with two choices: he could break off the interview and go out and buy some cigarettes, or he could wrap the whole thing up with all possible speed. Taking into consideration that Dover was unlikely to stay sitting on that oil drum much longer, MacGregor plumped for the second option. Besides, this Ruscoe/Weemys combination was raising problems which the two Scotland Yard men really ought to discuss in private without delay.
MacGregor plugged doggedly away in the few moments he calculated he had left. It did no good. The story remained consistent and coherent whether it was Ruscoe or Weemys who provided the answers.
Everything
