Clubbed to Death (25 page)

‘I have a very good friend in Monte Carlo. It wasn’t a problem to find out about Chatterton. It is unusual in a casino to see an old man with a metal support at four o’clock in the morning. And the risks he was taking! There was much comment.’

‘I’m not surprised.’

‘Also, this was not typical.’

‘Sorry, Philippe. You’ve lost me.’

‘My friend found a croupier who remembered Chatterton from a preceding visit. He remarked how his style was changed. He had been a courageous but safe gambler. This last time he is not prudent. In all, my friend thinks, he probably won six million francs and lost seven.’

‘Good grief! And he owes the missing million to whom? The casino?’

‘No, no. You do not have the bills with a casino. It is not a restaurant. I am told the debt was paid by an
habitué
who is not a nice person. Very strange company for an English gentleman – and, I believe, well-educated.’

‘You intrigue me greatly, Philippe.’

‘I am pleased, Jim. Now this unpleasant person is well known to us. He is a gambler whose activities are financed by drugs.’

‘As you say, very strange company for Mr Chatterton. Does your undesirable gambler want his money back?’

‘Always he will want his money or services furnished in exchange. I think that your Mr Chatterton was of some service.’

‘Jesus!’ said Milton. ‘Drugs in his zimmer!’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘You have given me an idea, Philippe, which I must now pursue. I’m extremely grateful.’

‘It is nothing, Jim.’

‘Ellis, just a quick word.’

‘Yes, Robert.’

‘Chatterton was in the library in the middle of the night that Blenkinsop died. Could have been trying to retrieve the magazine.’

‘How d’you know?’

‘Gooseneck saw him. He’d stayed up late. After he’d put Sunil to bed, he went off to the kitchen, where he sat reading and sipping port. He was feeling a bit unsettled so he didn’t go to bed until one o’clock and on his way he stopped by the Smoking Room to pick up a newspaper to read in bed. He was in there when he heard the lift. He didn’t want any confrontation, so he stayed in the background and saw Chatterton swinging down the gallery to the library. Apparently, he was in there only for a half a minute and then straight back into the lift and upstairs – not carrying a book. That’s what Gooseneck found a bit odd.’

‘Mmmm. Thank you, Robert. Food for thought.’

‘See yer.’

‘See you.’

‘I’ve tracked down the zimmer, sir. I’ve sent McGuire around to pick it up from the hospital. They’re certain it’s the same one.’

‘It’s going to be a waste of time, Ellis. Chatterton’s not a fool.’

‘People do slip up, sir.’

‘What a fatuous remark. Oh, for God’s sake, Ellis, stop looking like a wounded puppy. You’re so fucking thin-skinned. Go ahead, of course, but ten to one you’ll find a perfectly ordinary frame with no special compartments. He’ll have done a swap.’

‘I’m more of an optimist than you are, sir.’

‘I know that, Ellis. That’s why it’s nice to have you around.’

‘Really, Mr Milton, you’re putting pressure on me to agree that a man of seventy-six, while three-quarters crippled with two serious fractures and unable to walk except with the support of a zimmer, could construct a bomb and strap it to the underside of a table.’

‘No, I am not, Mr Selwood. I ’m asking you to come to the scene of the crime and watch somebody going through the motions of planting the device – with an open mind.’

‘I’m a very busy man.’ Milton said nothing. ‘Oh, very well. When d’you want me?’

‘As soon as you can manage it, sir.’

‘Six o’clock then. Do you want me to bring an aged cripple to practise with? Or can you provide your own?’

‘If any aged cripples are necessary, sir, you can rely on us to provide them.’

Their goodbyes were positively friendly. One thing that doctors and coppers had in common, reflected Milton: gallows humour.

‘Come in.’

Pooley walked over to Milton’s desk and put a pound coin in front of him.

‘What’s this for?’

‘You bet the zimmer would be clean, sir.’

‘Oh, dear. Cheer up, Ellis, You’re the optimist. Anything new from your reading?’

‘No.’

‘Any thoughts?’

‘I don’t think we’re leaning hard enough on Fagg, sir. We shouldn’t be losing sight of the fact that he’s got the biggest motive of all for keeping ffeatherstonehaugh’s going in the old way.’

‘Fair enough. We’ll go and bully Fagg this afternoon. It’ll get us out of the office. Chatterton we can leave until Mr Selwood has done his stuff. Ring up and make an appointment.’

All the fight had gone out of Fagg. He sat with his head in his hands, pathetic and close to tears, unable any longer to lie about his past. The repulsive brown stains bespattering his garish club tie accentuated his forlorn appearance.

‘I liked living like a gentleman,’ he said. ‘So I had to pretend to be one.’ Pooley trembled visibly, and Milton, seeing him desperate to get a word in, nodded.

Pooley glared at Fagg and in a clipped tone, said, ‘May I remind you, sir, of a quotation from Cardinal Newman. “It is almost a definition of a gentleman to say he is one who never inflicts pain.” If I may say so, you did little else.’

Milton scowled at Pooley. This was no time for him to be springing to the defence of his own class. Pooley saw his face and subsided in embarrassment. He had however stirred Fagg up again into action.

‘Don’t you start lecturing me, young fellow, about what a gentleman is or isn’t – like all your bloody stuck-up kind. I was patronised for seven years in the army because of being lower-middle-class. Oh, yes. They’re all fine and romantic about the working class, but there’s something very funny about a butcher from Sevenoaks, especially a small, fat butcher with bad eyesight. And don’t think I didn’t know why they called me the Colonel. They thought it was a great joke. And when Captain Fanning brought me in here and passed me off as his colonel, he was making fun of me more than he was making fun of them and I thought it was bloody clever of me to turn it to my own advantage. I wonder how he’d feel if he knew that I had taken over his club.’

‘Did you start out with that intention?’ asked Milton.

‘No. I just liked coming here sometimes and pretending to be one of them. It was when I was in prison that I decided on a plan. Do you remember Scarlett O’Hara in
Gone With The Wind
?’ Milton and Pooley gazed at Fagg in total astonishment.

‘Er, yes,’ said Milton.

‘There’s a scene when she says, “I’ll never be hungry again”. I always remember that. I might have been common, but I knew about food and drink and every day in jail was a misery to me, more than to most. Best part of two years being locked up for losing my temper with a trollop I never should have married, who only married me for my shop.’

‘So what did you set out to do?’

‘What I did. To turn it into the sort of place that suited me. It was a matter of finding another few people to be partners. It wasn’t that difficult. I was a businessman remember. You could say I was the entrepreneur and people like Chatterton were the expert advisers.’

‘You do realise, don’t you,’ said Milton, ‘that you stand out as having more to lose than any of the other residents of this club?’

‘How d’you mean?’

‘You care about it most and you’re the least well off.’

‘So?’

‘Listen, Mr Fagg.’ Milton’s dropping of his erstwhile title was not lost on the old man. ‘Mr Chatterton was physically incapable of committing these murders; Mr Glastonbury has plenty of money; Mr Fishbane will have sufficient to live in reasonable comfort. You’re the obvious suspect.’

‘I didn’t have the expertise.’

‘Prove it. You could easily have picked up those tricks. You were in the army long enough and you’ve got a record of violence. Give me a good reason why I shouldn’t arrest you, because I can’t think of one.’

Fagg’s eyes bulged. For a moment Milton thought he was going to go into one of his rages, but then he appeared to be thinking. ‘You’re only saying that because you think I’ve no money.’

‘It’s a strong reason.’

‘Well, you’re wrong. I wouldn’t be in penury. I’ve stashed some away.’

‘How much?’

‘Maybe half a million.’

‘Where did you get that?’

‘I told you. I’m a businessman. It was all legitimate. I just didn’t tell anyone. I got commission from our suppliers.’

‘Half a million pounds’ worth?’

‘I’ve been chairman of the provender committee for more than twenty years. We get a lot of expensive food. I don’t spend any money. It’s all in a high-yield account. Now are you going to arrest me?’

‘Not today,’ said Milton.

28

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‘No, no, no, no, no, no, no.’ said Selwood. ‘A thousand times no. You have just confirmed that it would be completely impossible to do this job without getting on one’s knees, crawling under the table and then lying on one’s back. Chatterton couldn’t have done that without someone to help him down, push him under the table and get him up again.’

‘No matter how agile he was, sir?’ asked Pooley.

‘No matter if he was a bloody acrobat.’

‘Thank you, Mr Selwood,’ said Milton, “We were just checking.’ He nodded to the DC who had laid on the demonstration and, with Pooley and Selwood, walked out of the committee room.

‘Extraordinary place this,’ observed Selwood, as they climbed the stairs to the ground floor. ‘Oddly enough, my father was a member. Can’t say it was ever to my taste: I’m inclined to respectability. But he loved it. In fact, he sent me Chatterton – years ago, when he broke his leg somewhere abroad.’

‘Friends, were they?’

‘Friendly. There was a little group of them who used to jaw on about the war and all that. When they weren’t gambling.’ He shook his head. ‘That was my old man’s downfall. I wish he’d stuck to wine, women and song.’

Milton was enjoying this unexpected candour. ‘Had your father been in code-breaking too?’

‘Good Lord, no. Man of action. Out in North Africa with David Stirling and all those lunatics.’

‘You mean the SAS?’

‘That’s right. And you know what that crowd were like. A hundred and one ways a boy can kill.’ Selwood laughed merrily. ‘Not surprising that I rebelled by trying to put people back together.’

‘Did he have any other old colleagues in the club?’

‘One or two, I think. Can’t remember any names. But most of his cronies were just chaps who enjoyed listening to that sort of thing – like Chatterton. It’s quite interesting if you’ve got a taste for adventure yarns and all that crap, which, let’s face it, lots of chaps do. Look at all these rubbishy books you get at airports these days. Full of boring stuff about electronic devices and Semtex and computer hardware and software and state-of-the-art military aircraft. Boring as hell if you ask me. Rather read Graham Greene any day – wounded minds rather than bodies, you know. Makes a change. My pater thought me a right wimp.’

They reached the far end of the Saloon and Selwood held out his hand. ‘Right. I’ll be off now, Mr Milton. Sorry to have dashed your hopes.’

‘It was a very long shot. Thank you again and goodbye, Mr Selwood.’

‘Goodbye, Sergeant.’

‘Goodbye, sir.’

‘Goodnight, Master Selwood,’ came Ramsbum’s voice from half-way down the stairs.

‘What d’you mean, “Master Selwood”, Ramsbum? You silly old bugger,’ Selwood said genially. ‘I’m fifty-eight.’

‘You’ll always be Master Selwood to me, sir.’

‘Just as Lieutenant-Colonel Selwood will always be Lieutenant-Colonel Selwood, I expect. Ramsbum, I think you should be pickled, bottled and sold to Americans, but it’s nice to see you all the same. Goodnight.’ He disappeared swiftly into the street.

‘Good man, Mr Selwood’s father, was he?’ asked Milton.

‘Oh, yes.’ Ramsbum’s eyes went moist. His on-duty accent began to slip. ‘Knew ’ow to enjoy ’imself, did the Lieutenant-Colonel. Many’s the night ’e’d lose ’undreds of pounds to Mr Chatterton at poker and all ’e’d say was, “Bugger me, I’ve lost again.” ’

‘Did he do anything except gamble, Mr Ramsbum?’ asked Pooley.

‘Well, ’e wasn’t a one for the ladies, if that’s what you mean. Quite right too. They’re a waste of bloody money. Not that Mr Fishbane would agree with me.’ He chuckled like the father of a much-loved delinquent son. ‘But ’e liked a good chat in the afternoon over the port, reminiscing about old times. ’E was a war ’ero you know. Military Cross.’

‘Very impressive,’ said Milton. ‘Where did he win it?’

‘North Africa. He was with them SAS. Ooh! Must of killed dozens in unarmed combat.’ He stopped and considered that statement. ‘And dozens more in armed combat. And that’s what he talked about. Ooh, yes! Sometimes he’d show ’ow it was done. Call up a servant to practise on. Did it to me a few times. It was a privilege.’

‘What exactly did he do?’

‘Well, ’e’d show ’ow he could break your neck in four different ways with the side of his ’and. Kill you with one blow of the fist to your chest. You know. The usual.’

‘Oh, I know the sort of thing, Mr Ramsbum,’ said Pooley. ‘My dad used to go on about it,’ he added mendaciously. ‘How to get a sentry from behind and chuck him over the edge of a roof, a sea wall, that kind of thing.’

‘Yes. Yes, ’e was good on that. I remember…’ Ramsbum stopped suddenly and gazed in deep suspicion at Pooley. ‘What are you on about?’

Pooley tried to look innocent. ‘Just comparing notes, Mr Ramsbum.’

‘You gettin’ at something? I know what you’re thinking. Trueman. That’s what you’re thinking. Well, you listen to me, you young smartypants. I said I saw him jump and I’m sticking to that.’ He turned his back on them and stalked downstairs. ‘Hell!’ said Pooley. ‘I’m sorry, sir. I blew that.’

‘Too fucking right you blew that. The old bastard won’t say another word now about who was in the admiring group. You’ve got to learn to control your impulsiveness.’ Milton sighed with exasperation. ‘Oh, stop looking suicidal, for God’s sake, Ellis. It’s all right. We’ve got a lot to chew on. Now we should really talk to Chatterton, but I can’t do it. The Commissioner’s called an emergency meeting for seven o’clock to review progress. Apparently there’s been some bitching from the Ministry of Defence. They’re taking it personally that the Admiral’s murderer hasn’t been found yet. Come on. We’ll have to go.’