It's battery acid, and the stuff's too common. There are filling stations all around here, and then it might have come from somewhere else.' He leaned back in his chair. 'To me this has the smell of a London job.' 'Have you seen Ashton?' 'Oh, yes, I've seen Ashton. He says he can think of absolutely no reason why his daughter should be attacked in such a manner. No reason whatsoever. It was like talking to a bloody stone wall.' 'I'll be talking to him myself tonight. Maybe I'll get something.' 'Does he know who-and what-you are?' 'No, he doesn't; and he mustn't find out, either.' 'You blokes lead interesting lives,' said Honnister, and grinned crookedly. 'And you wanting to marry his daughter, too.' I smiled. 'Where did you get that?' 'Just pieced it together from what you told me last night, and from what one of the uniformed boys picked up when talking over a cuppa with the Ashtons' maid. I told you I hear secrets-and I'm not a bad jack, even though I say it myself.' 'All right,' I said. 'Tell me a few secrets about Ashton.' 'Not known to the police. Not criminally.
The CPO had a few words with him.' 'CPO?' 'Crime Prevention Officer.
There are a lot of big houses around here full of expensive loot worth nicking. The CPO calls in to check on the burglar-proofing. You'd be surprised how stupid some of these rich twits can be. A man will fill his home with a quarter of a million quids' worth of paintings and antiques and balk at spending a couple of thousand on keeping the stuff safe.' 'How is Ashton's burglar proofing?' Honnister grinned.
'It might rank second to the Bank of England,' he conceded. That interested me. 'Anything more on Ashton?' 'Nothing relevant. But he wasn't the one who was attacked, was he?' He leaned forward. 'Have you thought of the possibility that Gillian Ashton might have been sleeping in the wrong bed? There are two things I think of when I hear of an acid attack on a woman; the first is that it could be a gangland punishment, and the other is that it's one woman taking revenge on another.' 'I've thought of it. Penny discounts it, and I don't go much for it myself. I don't think she's the kind.' 'Maybe, but I've been doing a bit of nosing around. I haven't come up with anything yet, but I can't discount it.' 'Of course you can't.' I stood up, and Honnister said, 'Don't expect too much too quickly. In fact, don't expect anything at all. I've no great hopes of this case. Anyway, we've not gone twenty-four hours yet.' That was so, and it surprised me. So much had happened that day that it seemed longer. 'Okay,' I said. 'I'll be in touch tonight.'
CHAPTER EIGHT I drove in the direction of Ashton's house and cruised around slowly, making circuits on the country roads and looking for anything out of the ordinary such as cars parked on the verge with people in them doing nothing in particular. There was nothing like that so after an hour of futility I gave up and drove directly to the house. The gates were locked but there was a bell-push which I pressed. While I waited I studied the gates in the light of what Honnister had said about Ashton's burglar proofing. They were of ornamental wrought-iron, about ten feet high, very spiky on top, and hung on two massive stone pillars. They barred an opening in an equally high chain-mesh fence, unobtrusive because concealed by trees, which evidently circled the estate. All very good, but the gates hadn't been closed the day before. Presently a man came down the drive, dressed in rough country clothes. I hadn't seen him before. He looked at me through the gates and said curtly, 'Yes?' 'My name is Malcolm Jaggard. I'd like to see Mr. Ashton.' 'He's not in.' 'Miss Ashton?' 'They're not in, either.' I tugged thoughtfully at my ear.
'What about Benson?' He looked at me for a moment, then said, 'I'll see.' He stepped to one side behind one of the stone pillars and I heard a click and then the whirr of a telephone dial. There's a phrase for what was happening; it's known as closing the stable door after the horse has gone. The man came back into sight and wordlessly began to unlock the gate, so I got back into the car and drove up to the house. Benson, in his courtly Boris Karloff manner, ushered me into the living room, and said, 'I don't expect Miss Penelope will be long, sir. She rang to say she would be back at five.' 'Did she say how Gillian is?' 'No, sir.' He paused, then shook his head slowly. 'This is a bad business, sir. Disgracefully bad.' 'Yes.' I had always been taught that it is bad form to question servants about their masters, but I had no compunction now. Benson had never struck me as being one of your run-of-the-mill house servants, least of all at that very moment because, unless he'd developed a fast-growing tumour under his left armpit, he was wearing a gun. 'I see you have a guard on the gate.' 'Yes; that's Willis. I'll give him your name so he will let you in.' 'How is Mr. Ashton taking all this?' 'Remarkably well. He went to his office as usual this morning. Would you care for a drink, sir?'
'Thank you. I'll have a scotch.' He crossed the room, opened a cabinet, and shortly came back with a tray which he put on a small table next to my elbow. 'If you will excuse me, sir.' 'Thank you, Benson.' He was not staying around to be questioned, but even if he had I doubted if I could have got much out of him. He tended to speak in cliches and bland generalities, but whether he thought that way was quite another matter. I had not long to wait for Penny and was barely half way through the drink when she came into the room. 'Oh, Malcolm; how good to see you. What a blessed man you are.' She looked tired and drawn. 'I said I'd come. How's Gillian?' 'A little better, I think.
She's getting over the shock.' 'I'm very glad to hear it. I had a talk with Honnister, the police inspector in charge of the case. He wants to interview her.' 'Oh, Malcolm; she's not ready for that. Not yet.'
She came to me and I took her in my arms. 'Is it that bad?' She laid her head on my chest for a moment, and then looked up at me. 'I don't think you know how bad this sort of thing is for a woman. Women seem to care more for their appearance than men-I suppose we have to because we're in the man-catching business, most of us. It's not just the physical shock that's hit Gillian; there's the psychological shock, too.' 'Don't think I'm not aware of it,' I said. 'But put yourself in Honnister's place. He's in a jam-he needs a description.
Right now he doesn't even know if he's looking for a man or a woman.'
Penny looked startled. 'I hadn't even thought of that. I assumed it would be a man.' 'Honnister hasn't made that assumption. He hasn't made any assumptions at all because he has damn-all to go on. Is Gillian talking to you?' 'A little, this afternoon.' Penny made a wry face. 'I've kept off the subject of acid-throwing.' 'Could you go to the hospital tonight and see what you can get out of her? Honnister is really at his wits' end about this. Your father couldn't help him and he's stuck.' 'I suppose I could try.' 'Better you than Honnister; he might not have your understanding. I'll come with you; not into the ward, but I'll come along.' 'Will eight o'clock be all right for you?
Not too late?' 'All my time is at your disposal.' I didn't tell her that was literally true, by courtesy of one Ogilvie and paid for by the taxpayer. 'You look as though you could do with a drink.' 'I could stand a gin and tonic. Bring it into the kitchen, will you? I have to do something about dinner. Daddy will be home soon.' She went away and I fixed the drink and took it into the kitchen. I offered to help but she laughed, and said, 'You'd just be in the way. Mary is coming down to help.' 'Mary who?' The maid-Mary Cope. You find yourself something to do.' I went away reflecting that what I really wanted to do was to give Ashton's study a good shakedown. But if it's bad form to question the servants I don't know what the devil it would be called to be found searching through your host's private papers in his sanctum sanctorum. Moodily I walked out into the garden. I was knocking croquet balls about on the lawn when Ashton pitched up. There was a worn and honed look about him as though he was being fined down on some spiritual grindstone. His skin had not lost its tan but he looked paler than usual, and there was still that hurt look in his eyes. It was the look of a little boy who had been punished for something he hadn't done; the anguished look of the injustice of the world. It's hard to explain to a small boy that the world isn't necessarily a just place, but Ashton had been around long enough to know it. I said, 'Penny's in the kitchen, if you want her.' 'I've seen her,' he said shortly. 'She tells me Gillian's better this evening.' He looked down, kicking the turf with the toe of his shoe. He didn't speak for some time and I began to think he'd misheard me. But then he looked up and said abruptly, 'She's blind.' 'Christ; I'm sorry to hear that.' He nodded. 'I had a specialist in this afternoon.' 'Does she know? Does Penny know?' 'Neither of them know. I had it kept from them.' 'I can understand not telling Gillian, but why keep it from Penny?' 'Unlike many sisters they've always been very close even though they are so unalike in temperament-perhaps because of it. I think if Penny knew, Gillian would get it out of her, and she couldn't stand the shock now.' He looked me in the eye. 'Don't tell her.' Now that was all very logical and carefully thought out, and he had just given me a direct order, there was no doubt about that. 'I wont tell her,' I said. 'But she might find out anyway. She's medically trained and nobody's fool.'
'Just so that it comes later rather than sooner,' he said. I thought I'd better start to earn my pay. 'I saw Honnister this afternoon. He tells me he didn't get much change out of you this morning. Don't you have any idea why Gillian should be attacked?' 'No,' he said colourlessly. I studied him carefully. His jacket was much better cut than Benson's but no amount of fine tailoring could hide the slight bulge under his arm. 'You haven't had threatening letters or anything like that?' 'Nothing like that,' he said impatiently. 'I'm at a loss to understand it.' I felt like asking him, Then why carry a gun? My problem was that I didn't know why he was on our files. Men were listed for many reasons, and to be listed did not make them villains-far from it. The trouble was that no one would tell me which class Ashton came into, and that made this job damned difficult.
