Corridors of Death (18 page)

‘You’re too complicated a species for a simple policeman,’ grumbled Milton. ‘What about Sanders, then? He certainly came across with the goodies. I thought you said they were all too cautious for that.’

‘Sanders is rather different – I hadn’t realized how different until I began to work for him. I think he’s been inhibited by Sir Nicholas so far. He seems to be prepared to take risks now that he’s got no one leaning on him. Not that he’s going to change character entirely – he’s been a civil servant too long for that, but he’ll certainly loosen the reins on the department slightly. There are some senior people who believe in being a bit more open about what goes on in government. It’s just that their style is cramped by the anal retentives of the old school. Anyway, what did you make of what Sanders told you?’

‘What I said. I can’t decide if it’s a welcome or unwelcome piece of news. There seem to be more motives than opportunities in this case. Let me tell you about what came up today.’

‘Bloody hell,’ said Amiss, when Milton had finished his saga and his dreadful meal, and was solacing himself with a brandy. ‘What was Sir Nicholas trying to do on Monday morning? Start a riot?’

‘Your guess is as good as mine. He certainly had the bit between his teeth. I don’t think I’ll ever understand what he was up to. It’s bad enough trying to work out what everyone else was doing. Nixon had a motive; Wells at least two. Parkinson had one. So had Nigel. Lady Clark’s statement that Sir Nicholas had been unpleasant to Stafford strengthens his. At least Jenkins and Shaw seem to be in the clear.’ ’

‘You haven’t seen Shaw yet, have you?’

‘No,’ groaned Milton. ‘He’s getting cross about always being postponed in favour of the next hot suspect. I hope nothing crops up to stop me seeing him tomorrow.’

‘Who else are you seeing?’

‘Well, Stafford and Wells, of course. And I suppose I’d better go back and quiz Lady Clark about Nigel. If no one else looks particularly promising I’ll have to try out the theory that he killed his father in a rage and she helped him kill Gladys. I’ll feel pretty silly suggesting it.’

‘You haven’t quite ruled out Jenkins, have you?’

‘I have, really. As he said, it would have been pointless for him to kill Sir Nicholas, since he was going to get his wife anyway. IGGY isn’t such an attractive committee that he’d kill to stay on it, is it?’

‘God, no. It’s incredibly tedious. Mind you, a lot of people do like to boast about being members of it; it makes them feel as if they’re at the centre of things. But it would take a really dedicated Establishment climber to make that a reason for murder.’

‘What’s more, anybody with such a reason would presumably wait for a better opportunity to do the job. Whoever murdered Sir Nicholas took an enormous risk. It certainly can’t have been premeditated.’

‘You don’t think Jenkins was lying about failing to find him, do you? Maybe he did and Sir Nicholas said something really foul about his wife. Welshmen are supposed to be hot-tempered, aren’t they?’

‘I suppose it’s possible, Robert, but it really looks to me as if he wouldn’t be the type to rise to that kind of provocation. He was going to get her away from Sir Nicholas. Wouldn’t that have made him magnanimous?’

‘I suppose it would,’ sighed Amiss. ‘I have to admit to an unworthy motive in trying to make a case against him. It would be very nice for the department if the whole thing proved to have nothing to do with us. The press will have the time of their lives if it emerges that it was either Nixon, Wells or Parkinson. Even Stafford wouldn’t be too good from our point of view. It would cast doubt on our methods of arriving at decisions about grants.’

‘Who’s being an anal retentive now?’

‘I’m not, am I? Be careful. I get upset when anyone suggests I’m turning into a civil-service stereotype. That’s probably because it’s true. One of my staff called me “a toffee-nosed fart-arse” today.’

‘I thought you were guaranteed respect from your subordinates?’

‘You haven’t met Phil. You’d better not, either. He doesn’t think much of the pigs.’

‘He seems to be an unexpected kind of person to recruit into your sober outfit.’

‘You’d be surprised. Personnel are so desperate to get bright youngsters into the service that they’ll accept all sorts of eccentricities now. There’s a fellow downstairs who wears a nappy pin through his left ear. And Phil’s favourite tee-shirt has ‘bullshit’ printed across it. He wasn’t allowed to wear it when Sir Nicholas was in the office, but hardly anyone else seems to mind. Sanders even likes it. He’s appointed Phil his court jester. This afternoon I was in with him, and Phil had been brought into the room to unpack some of Sanders’s belongings. Sanders was in full flow about some esoteric aspect of policy. You’ll have noticed that he’s not above the occasional bureaucratic cliché. “You perceive my thrust?” he said at one point, and Phil turned round from where he was kneeling by a carton on the floor, stared him in the groin, and said “Snuffink to brag about”. I thought for a moment Sanders was going to choke, and then he burst out laughing. Said he was pleased to have someone who recognized the absurdities of civil-service phraseology when he heard them. I wasn’t too pleased at that reaction, I can tell you. It’ll make the little sod impossibly cocky – not that he isn’t that already.’

‘You’ve cheered me up, Robert. I must be off. I’ve got some hard thinking to do tonight, and it’s late already. Would you mind if I brought my wife along tomorrow night? I haven’t had an evening with her all week, and she’d be interested in talking about the case. She’s a psychologist, so she might have some insights into Sir Nicholas.’

Amiss agreed enthusiastically.

‘One more thing before I go, and a very long shot.’ He handed Amiss the photocopy Romford had provided. ‘You don’t know anybody who makes his capitals like that, do you? We’re pretty sure they’re disguised.’

‘No, sorry. They could be anybody’s. On a postcard, you said?’

‘Yes.’ Milton rose to go. ‘A crank, probably, who thought he had a sense of humour.’

‘But it isn’t a joke. It’s true about Jenkins and Lady Clark.’

‘Oh, certainly. The postcard, though – it was one of those incredibly unfunny seaside things. Somebody’s wife with a coalman.’

‘Coalman?’

‘Yes.’

‘Sit down. I know who sent it.’

29

By midnight Milton had said good-night to Ann and had settled himself in his armchair to think things through again. The conversation with Amiss over the extra cup of coffee had taken on a more urgent tone than any previously. On Monday and Tuesday evenings, they’d pretty well made presentations to each other of evidence and hypotheses that they’d had time to digest individually. When Amiss dropped his bombshell about the postcard, they found themselves engaged in the kind of question-and-answer, thrust-and-parry dialogue that each was accustomed to having internally in striving for judgements and conclusions.

The postcard was from Sir Nicholas. Oh, God. How could it be? Come back to that later… All right: what evidence? Amiss had seen it, blank, in old Nick’s briefcase the week before – retrieving a draft so that Julia could correct a typing error. Sir Nicholas? A dirty postcard? He used to call Jenkins ‘The Coalman’ – Welsh prole, see? Amiss had been surprised by the postcard but had thought no more of it at the time: certainly hadn’t connected it with Lady C. But the postmark? Eight hours after his death? Well, he’d hardly put it in his own out-tray, would he? And non-urgent mail from general offices – big mail-shots, for instance – was often collected in bulk by Post Office vans at close of play. Could easily sit around at the sorting-office and be franked mid-evening. Nothing to stop Sir Nicholas finding such a pile of mail in a nearby office and slipping the postcard into it.

Possible enough, but what was he up to? That question again. The answer has to come from a broader pattern. General category of shit-stirring, for the moment. Why send it to the Police Commissioner? Highly moral man, Sir Peter; a long interview in one of the Sunday heavies just last week – importance of family life and so on. Besides, if Sir Nicholas was embarking, as seemed to be the case, on the most thorough-going campaign of mischief-making since… since… (Since Denis the Menace? Hardly fitting…) he’d probably written to the Queen and the Archbishop of Canterbury as well. But what would the Commissioner have done about it in normal circumstances? Nothing. Wouldn’t have been any of his business. Was Sir Nicholas expecting to be murdered, then? Planting clues for a posthumous revenge in case one of his victims did go berserk? Worth thinking about.

Pouring himself a drink, Milton could not clearly remember who had contributed what to the deductive process. Once again, he would have to take credit the next morning for inspired lateral thinking. If nudged, the handwriting experts could probably find enough resemblance – that manuscript speech in Sir Nicholas’s study at home had plenty of capitals in it. Romford could be sent to get it. Having it proved that Sir Nicholas had sent the card would constitute a Pyrrhic victory, though. He might get a slap on the back from the A.C., but the trail to the murderer would have been blurred yet again. It would have been clearer had the postcard turned out to be a prurient hoax. Confusion worse confounded. Why couldn’t he just once have a new piece of evidence which simplified things rather than fouling them up further?

He told himself harshly to drop the self-pity and start doing something constructive. He needed a clear head when he had his progress meeting the next morning. He put the bottle away, picked up a sheet of paper and began to write steadily.

NIGEL CLARK

Sir Nicholas Clark’s murder

Motive: Sir Nicholas called him a pervert.

Opportunity: Plenty.

Pro: Intensely emotional state matches risky and unpremeditated murder.

Con: Nothing concrete. Claimed to be sorry for his father.

Action: Temperament: fits of bad temper? Question friends.

Gladys Bradley’s murder

Motive: He could have known she overheard row with father.

Opportunity: Excellent, if his mother helped him.

Pro: Sudden recognition of Gladys on Tuesday – panic – paper knife.

Con: His mother – moderating influence/common sense. Parricide under extreme provocation – light sentence. Murder of Gladys – throw the book at him.

Action: As above. And try bullying Lady Clark

MARTIN JENKINS AND LADY CLARK

Sir N. (Jenkins)

Motive: Lost his temper when Sir Nicholas insulted Lady Clark – putative.

Opportunity: Good. Lost to view for at least five minutes.

Pro: Very little.

Con: Nothing to gain and much to lose.

Action: Hot temper? As for Nigel Clark.

Gladys (Lady Clark)

Motive: Gladys heard row. Jenkins saw Gladys and told Lady C. – putative.

Opportunity: Excellent, bar Nigel’s presence.

Pro: Not much.

Con: How could Jenkins have recognized Gladys? Would he really ask his beloved to murder for him?

Action: As above. And probe Jenkins-Lady C.-Nigel relationship.

HARVEY NIXON

Sir N.

Motive: Blind rage.

Opportunity: Several minutes unaccounted for.

Pro: Cumulative provocation. A sneering remark – the last straw – from Sir N. all too likely.

Con: Gained nothing. Why not get Sir N. sacked in revenge?

Action: Trace earlier instances of Sir N’s torments – any sign of consequential rage?

Gladys

Motive: She’d certainly have recognized him, and he her.

N.B
. Of all the rows she might have heard, this the likeliest for reporting to her husband.

Opportunity: Good. His office was next door and most people out to lunch.

Pro: Obvious.

Con: This suggests premeditation. How could he know she hadn’t already talked? Of course, she was stupid enough to tell him, but if he’d
planned
such an interview, wouldn’t he have planned the method as well? Do senior Cabinet Ministers notice clerical assistants’ paper-knives?

Action: Find out if he was in the habit of hanging round socialising in Sir N’s outer office. “Look at what Robert brought me back from Morocco, Secretary of State…”

RICHARD PARKINSON

Sir N.

Motive: Sir N. had ruined his career.

Opportunity: As good as most other suspects.

Pro: Revenge plus improved career prospects.

Con: Why such a risky occasion? Many better opportunities.

Action: Check for evidence of improved career prospects in a post-Sir Nicholas world. Also for any extra provocation Monday morning.

Gladys

Motive: Similar to Nixon’s.

Opportunity: Reasonable. Least eminent eye-catching suspect so far – better chance of coming and going unnoticed.

Pro: Obvious.

Con: Same weapon problem as with Nixon. Entry/exit risky. No evidence of row with Sir N.

Action: As above. And check as for Nixon re socializing in outer office.

Milton stopped and sighed, lit a fat cigar whose opulence would have raised eyebrows at the Yard, and ploughed on. A weak brandy and soda after the next, perhaps.

ARCHIBALD STAFFORD

Sir N.

Motive: Lost job because of Sir N’s meddling. Lady Clark heard Sir N. insulting him on telephone. Was there a post-IGGY row – perhaps started by Stafford this time?

Opportunity: Hadn’t they all?

Pro: Concealed the fact that Sir N. had insulted him.

Con: Stood to gain nothing; and no sign that he
knew
Sir N. had fixed his waggon.

Action: Get more from Lady Clark on that phone-call, then confront Stafford with it.

Gladys

Motive: The usual.

Opportunity: Minuscule. Outsider, so entry/exit require logged pass.

Pro: Nothing.

Con: She might have known him, but how would he know her? Risks of access. Weapon problem again.

Action: Send a bright plain-clothesman to try slipping through the building’s security.

Anticipating the A.C.’s reaction to this last measure, Milton grinned and mixed the nightcap stronger than he’d intended. Two to go.