Gently Floating (14 page)

‘It’ll come out,’ Gently said. ‘Nothing will stop it coming out. We’ve tracked him through the bridge to the rond, from the rond to this hallway. This is where he had the fight that left the marks on his body. Perhaps he died in this hallway. We’ll find that out too.’

‘You can’t find it out,’ Mrs Lidney shouted. ‘You bloody well can’t.’

‘Shut your mouth Rhoda,’ the humpty man said.

‘Or if he was followed outside,’ Gently said, ‘whichever way, we’ll find out. It’ll take a few hours longer if you stick to your lies, that’s all.’

‘You think you’re clever,’ the humpty man said.

‘We don’t need to be clever,’ Gently said.

‘You aren’t clever at all,’ the humpty man said. ‘You’ll find that out. You aren’t clever. If I get you into court you won’t look clever, you’ll look the lousy frigger you are.’

‘It’s a risk,’ Gently said. ‘I’ll try not to lose sleep over it. That’s not the advice I’d give you. I’m taking this doorstop away with me.’

‘Oh and are you?’ the humpty man said.

‘Yes,’ Gently said. ‘Any objections?’

The humpty man looked at him intently.

‘Here’s your receipt,’ Gently said.

He set down the doorstop, took out his notebook, scribbled a receipt, shoved it in the man’s hand. The man looked at the receipt, threw it on the floor. The woman stooped and picked up the receipt. Gently took the doorstop and pushed past the man. The man staggered. Nobody said anything.

Also on this night of August 7th when Superintendent Gently was returning along the cinder path being abreast of the rond where the shred of nylon was found his eye was caught by a small bobbing flame on the other bank of the river and Reuben’s Cakewalk being by that time silent he heard a faint hiss after the flame was extinguished. Thus Superintendent Gently halted and stared very hard across the river and advanced to the dyke under the Speltons’ fence in which three of the Speltons’ dinghies lay moored. He took the outermost dinghy and rowed it across the slow flood and in the well of the old houseboat moored opposite he found a man smoking a pipe and ledger fishing. As the dinghy drew close the man said:

‘Do you watch out for my line down there.’

‘I can see your line,’ Gently said.

‘Well keep your oar out of it,’ the man said. ‘What do you want, you’re not a bailiff. You’ve just pinched one of Speltons’ dinghies.’

‘I’m a policeman,’ Gently said.

‘Oh, ah,’ the man said. ‘I get you now.’

Gently shipped his oars, let the dinghy touch, took hold of the gunnel of the houseboat. The man who was fishing was a short elderly man and he wore a dark-coloured hat with a sagging brim. He was smoking shag. He was fishing with a short glass rod. The glow of the pipe showed a wrinkled forehead and thick uptilted eyebrows.

‘About this Harry French job,’ he said.

‘Yes,’ Gently said. ‘You’re the owner of this houseboat?’

‘Blast yes of course,’ the man said. ‘I’m Billy Stratton, that’s who I am.’

‘Were you here on Tuesday?’ Gently said.

‘Yes I was here Tuesday,’ the man said. ‘But I didn’t stir out of the old boat, so I didn’t see nothing worth talking about. I live at Starmouth you know, I come here nights now and then. Too much traffic in the daytime. I get a little fishing in the evening.’

‘You were fishing on Tuesday evening?’ Gently said.

‘From about eight o’clock time,’ Billy Stratton said. ‘Till Reuben packed up, it was slow on Tuesday. All this close weather don’t do it any good.’

‘Do you know young John French?’ Gently said.

‘I knew his father,’ Billy Stratton said.

‘Did you see John French on Tuesday?’ Gently said.

‘Not as far as I know,’ Billy Stratton said.

‘Did any yachts go by? A half-decker?’

‘Can’t say I’d remember,’ Billy Stratton said. ‘There was a lot of these, spiv-boats, I call them, those hire launches that make the wash. Then there was a banana-boat, that’s a trip-boat, and cruisers any amount. But I did see Harry French, couldn’t have been a long while before.’

‘When?’ Gently said.

‘Oh sometime after ten,’ Billy Stratton said. ‘Not long before I packed up he came creeping up here. Of course it might not have been him, he didn’t have any lights on, but anyway it was his launch and I thought it was him when he got out. Just over there where you came from. He looked this way, but he wouldn’t have seen me.’

‘After that how long were you fishing?’ Gently said.

‘Till Reuben finished,’ Billy Stratton said. ‘He’s finished now, about half past ten. Then I brewed some cocoa and turned in on the bunk.’

‘Did you see or hear anything after that?’ Gently said.

‘Not once I’m in kip,’ Billy Stratton said. ‘I’m like the Seven Sleepers when I’m aboard the
Penelope
, you could let off an atom bomb and I wouldn’t hear it. He moors up, stands there a bit. He was looking around, listening. Then he mooches away up the path. That’s about all I can tell you.’

‘Up the path,’ Gently said.

‘Why yes,’ Billy Stratton said, ‘up the Sounds way.’

‘Thanks,’ Gently said. ‘Where can I find you again?’

‘Thirty-seven South Quay Row,’ Billy Stratton said.

Gently said: ‘Tomorrow morning I’d like you to make a statement of what you’ve told me. If you’ll go to the County Police Headquarters in Trafalgar Road they’ll take your statement there.’

‘Blast I’d have been before,’ Billy Stratton said. ‘I didn’t know I’d seen anything special.’

‘If you will,’ Gently said. ‘How’s the fishing tonight?’

Billy Stratton laid down his rod, felt for a string that hung from the gunnel. He pulled on the string. A wobbling keep-net came out of the water with splashings and slitherings.

‘Do you strike a match,’ Billy Stratton said.

Gently struck a match, held it to the net. About a couple of stone of biggish bream were flapping and writhing at the bottom of the net. Their fish smell was heavy. The brown mesh of the net was coated with their slime. Most of them were around the pound mark but several would have scaled two or three.

‘What do you think,’ Billy Stratton said. ‘There’s some rum old bream there, aren’t th’?’

Gently nodded. ‘Some rum old bream,’ he said.

‘I got amongst them,’ Billy Stratton said.

Thus and finally on August 7th Superintendent Gently rang County Police Headquarters and requested a photographer and two men else and a van to carry a roll of lino and a drill and a saw to cut out a section of plasterboard and a certain instrument of authorization and notice to technical personnel who might otherwise have been off duty and asleep. All of which requests were expedited.

I
NSPECTOR PARFITT DROVE
into Haynor and it was the morning of Saturday August 8th. Because Inspector Parfitt was a local man he knew what to expect at Haynor and he found what he expected. He found first a stream of traffic not to say a jam which halted him a long time at the bridge but which treated him to the sight which he always enjoyed of Reuben’s Cakewalk being dismantled: Reuben having done with Haynor for a twelvemonth and in early train to remove to Wrackstead. He found secondly about the yards and about the car parks and open space adjacent to the yards a large busy population wearing slightly crumpled city clothes with on their faces expressions of irritation and anxiety and in their hands crammed luggage packed fishing rods even tennis rackets and frogman flippers moving transporting inquiring packing calling swearing nagging queuing at toilets queuing in the café queuing to drag luggage on to overfilled buses waiting for hire cars that didn’t arrive and waiting to extract private cars which were temporarily unextractable. He found thirdly a species of marine charlady in active possession of the moored craft winkling out reluctant hirers who had not packed overnight and causing an opening and shutting of suitcases on the quays: village ladies of character and energy who shook blankets whisked off sheets rattled saucepans counted cutlery tossed out tins dustpanned out fluff and loudly advised each other of their discoveries and theorized keenly on the basis of them. He found fourthly a team of technicians equipped with toolbags and paintpots and varnish pots and lengths of raw greyish-pink mahogany and brass screws and mastick who with much hammering sawing drilling planing shaping fitting swearing dressing screwing caulking painting varnishing arguing and incidental comment were making good the minor bashings stovings rakings grindings hackings bruisings and raspings inflicted by the hirers who held it as an article of faith what they had read in the letting agent’s catalogue namely that anyone who could drive a car could drive a twenty-ton motor-cruiser without brakes (though along with three or four thousand other powercraft in one hundred and fifty miles of narrow waterway). He found fifthly a quadruple impingement of evacuees from the bungalows treading their four cinder paths for the last time adding their luggage to the pool of heaps of luggage themselves to the queues their voices to the general voice: and sixthly a number of early-rising night-driving Jones-pacing newcomers arrived heavyeyed but hopeful but now somewhat silent and in amaze. He did not find William Archer and David Spelton who were superintending the filling out of insurance claims in their respective offices nor easily a place to park his car though it was recognizably a police car. The sun however was shining hotly on the totality of these transactions the empty river moved towards the Sounds a few village people stood watched. None of which surprised Inspector Parfitt or suggested abstract ideas to him. Along with Detective Constable Joyce he entered the Country Club and inquired at the desk for Superintendent Gently.

‘Well,’ Superintendent Gently said.

‘I’ve brought a warrant for the arrest of the Lidneys with me,’ Inspector Parfitt said.

‘Have you?’ Gently said.

‘It’s as good as that,’ Parfitt said. ‘I was waiting for a copy of the lab report or I’d have been out here sooner.’

‘You’re soon enough,’ Gently said. ‘I’ve only just finished breakfast. I don’t burn the candle so much these days. Anyway there’s no rush. What does the lab report say?’

‘I’ve got it here,’ Parfitt said, fumbling his breast pocket.

‘No,’ Gently said. ‘You tell me, it’s too early for that sort of handwriting. Any luck with the doorstop?’

‘Actually, not much,’ Parfitt said. ‘It’s clean. They must have wiped it, done a pretty good job. All we got off it was a thread of wool that was jammed in that shell pattern at the base. French was wearing a light tweed jacket and the thread matches, but we can’t swear to it.’

‘When he was hit on the shoulder with it,’ Gently said.

‘Yes, that’s pretty certain,’ Parfitt said. ‘Our pathologist reports that the edge of the shell pattern would cause a graze like the one on French.’

‘What about the knob and the fracture?’ Gently said.

‘Yes,’ Parfitt said, ‘that’s a fit. There’s nothing to give complete identification of course, not like breech marks or rifling, but it fits all right. It would make that size and pattern of fracture.’

‘No hair, impacted skin?’

‘No,’ Parfitt said, ‘it was wiped.’

‘And put back by the door,’ Gently said.

Parfitt looked at Gently.

‘Go on,’ Gently said. ‘It just occurred to me that the river was handy. But you meet a frugal murderer now and then. No doubt the doorstop was part of the old home.’

‘But I thought Lidney was our chummie,’ Parfitt said.

‘Yes, that’s all right,’ Gently said. ‘You’ll get to know how I work eventually. What did they find on the lino?’

‘Blood,’ Parfitt said, unfolding the report form. He pointed to some writing on it, said: ‘That’s it, blood.’

‘Whose group?’ Gently said.

‘Not French’s,’ Parfitt said. ‘Human blood, not French’s. Had some ptyalin mixed with it.’

‘Good for French,’ Gently said. ‘He must have copped Lidney in the mouth. I’d say Lidney was getting the worst of it when he picked up the doorstop. Whereabouts was the blood sited?’

‘Nearer the front door end,’ Parfitt said.

‘Yes,’ Gently said, ‘it fits the picture. Lidney would have backed up there after French entered. So they fight, he’s getting the worst of it, he’s hit in the mouth and spitting blood. He looks for a weapon, finds the doorstop, throws it, it grazes French’s shoulder, falls, bounces. But that wouldn’t stop French, he comes up the hallway after Lidney. Lidney hasn’t got a weapon now. The doorstop’s behind French at the other end of the hallway. So what happens?’

‘The devil,’ Parfitt said. ‘It was someone else who crowned French.’

‘Someone entered by one of the doors behind him,’ Gently said. ‘They picked up the doorstop and felled him with it. Someone a good deal shorter than French if our experiment with the hammer has a bearing. Like Mrs. Lidney. Like John French. It probably lies between those two.’

‘The devil,’ Parfitt said again.

‘Those two,’ Gently said. ‘And for my money Rhoda Lidney picked up the doorstop. It fits the rest of the facts better. Except for one we’ll come to in a minute, when we’ve done with this line.’

‘But hell, it isn’t a line,’ Parfitt said. ‘This is what happened, it must be this. It stands to reason, Lidney didn’t have the doorstop, it finished up behind French. French was hit from behind.’

‘All right,’ Gently said, ‘let’s go on. French is dead, he’s lying in the hallway. He’s a sixteen-stone corpse and they can’t get a car down the cinder path.’

‘A boat,’ Parfitt said, ‘they put him in a boat.’

‘Was there a boat there?’ Gently said.

‘His own launch,’ Parfitt said. ‘They’d only to fetch it round to the bungalow.’

‘Yes,’ Gently said, ‘but how did they know about it? How did they know French had come in his launch? How did they know where he’d moored the launch? Unless he’d let it out himself somehow.’

‘But it must have been a boat,’ Parfitt said. ‘They couldn’t have carried him down the cinder path. And they wouldn’t have slung him into the river off the front, it was too close, he might just have stopped there.’

‘So,’ Gently said, ‘we’ll give them the launch. They’ve brought the launch, got the body into it. What’s to stop them from taking it a mile downstream, why do they tip it in so near home?’