Princes Gate (45 page)

“What happened to him?”

“He went down in a ship on his way back to America. I got the news at the weekend. Another U-boat attack. Terrible tragedy, but in his case, some good came of it.”

The two men fell silent. Merlin stared into his beer and shuddered as he wondered what it would be like to drown.

“Is that a new suit you’ve got there, Frank? Very smart. Boss give you a raise or something?”

“You must be kidding.”

“He must be very happy with you though?”

“He was very happy for about one minute. I thought in the brief afterglow of this case I’d try him one more time on the subject of my joining up but he blew me out of the water again. Then he started banging on about the IRA and what a terrible time the Home Secretary was giving him. Then he had a good nag about the fingerprint report I hadn’t submitted to him. Finally, to cap it all, he had a go at me about his niece, the one he seconded to my team, because he’d heard she’d gone to the pictures with Tommy Cole, the Constable we had helping us. Said I should have kept a closer eye on her, and it was my fault if he had hell to pay with his wife!” Stewart attempted to look sympathetic but failed. He waved his empty glass in the air and Merlin wandered off to the bar. Rummaging in his pocket for change, he felt that sense of anticlimax he always felt when a case was solved. Alcohol was not the answer, though. He ordered a beer and whisky chaser for his friend and a lemonade shandy for himself. Tomorrow he had to interview an intriguing foreigner who’d been picked up acting suspiciously in Liverpool Street Station. He wanted to have a clear head for that.

Back at the table, the Scotsman frowned. “A chaser for me but not for you? That’s not fair.”

“Don’t worry amigo, Salud. Cheers!”

Stewart laughed. The smile on his face widened almost into a leer. “By the way, Frank, despite her comment about policemen, I think Sonia took a fancy to you. She was intrigued when I told her about your family background. Looks like she might have a thing for dark, brooding, Latin men. You should pop around sometime to say hola.”

Merlin looked up at the smoke-covered ceiling. The image of Sonia’s captivating face, giggling uncontrollably at the milkman’s incontinent carthorse, sparkled in his mind’s eye. You know, Jack, he thought to himself, I might just do that – I might just do that!