The Saint Valentine's Day Murders (25 page)

The French businessman standing running his eye across the paperbacks saw Rachel beside him, similarly engaged. They reached out simultaneously for the same book. Their hands collided in mid-air and they both smiled and apologized. At his insistence, she took the Wodehouse, looked at the blurb and passed it over to him. ‘I’ve read it anyway,’ she said, and began to look at the books spread out on the bottom shelf. The Frenchman, who was about to go home after three weeks at a language school and was conscientiously buying recommended English novels, began to read the blurb with intense concentration. He was stymied by an unfamiliar hyphenated word that appeared to be central to an understanding of the plot. He put the book under one arm, bent down to his briefcase and searched within it for his pocket dictionary.

When he emerged from his researches a minute or two later, he was no wiser. He tried vainly to make sense of the concept of a
vâche-crémeuse
. Having failed, he replaced the book and turned to try the shelves on his right. It was then that he saw that the pleasant girl in glasses was no longer sitting on her heels beside him. She had fallen over awkwardly on her face. He knelt beside her, put his arm around her and tried to help her up. Then he realized that she was not just ill. She was either unconscious or dead.

36

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At the moment when the ambulance men arrived at the Terminal bookstall, Amiss was sitting in his flat reading, smoking and imbibing a refreshing gin and tonic. He was feeling a sense of well-being, brought on by the satisfaction of knowing that he was wholly in control of practical matters. The casserole was in the oven, the champagne was in the ’fridge and the cork had been pulled from the claret. He had purchased the ingredients of a memorable meal and he was hoping that the way to Rachel’s heart might prove to be through her stomach. He would have ample time to set everything up between the time she rang and the time she arrived. He was at peace.

The telephone rang at 7:15. He rushed to it eagerly.

‘Robert, it’s Helen.’

‘Helen. Hello. How nice to hear from you.’ Although he was disappointed she was not Rachel, Amiss was very well disposed towards her flatmate.

‘It’s about Rachel,’ said Helen haltingly.

‘You don’t mean she can’t make it?’

‘Oh, no. Well, yes.’ To Amiss’s horror, the normally calm and competent Helen dissolved into sobs of anguish.

‘Tell me, for God’s sake. Has she had an accident?’

‘She’s been stabbed, Robert. At Heathrow.’

Amiss found a strange detachment coming over him. In a calm voice he asked, ‘Is she dead?’

‘I don’t know. They rang me from the airport as soon as they found her diary. All they could say was that she was still alive and they’d let me know when there was any news.’

‘Where is she?’

‘I’m sorry, Robert. But I was so shocked I didn’t think to ask. I’ll let you know as soon as I hear.’

‘Don’t bother, Helen. I won’t be here. Find someone to be with you and I’ll ring you as soon as I have anything to tell you.’

‘All right, Robert. I’m sorry. I know how you must be feeling.’

‘And I know how you must be feeling. Try to be optimistic. You know what a toughie she is.’

Helen managed a half-laugh and they said goodbye.

Amiss’s legs gave way and he fell on to the sofa. He lay for a minute or two torturing himself with unrestrained grief and terror. Then he made a huge effort to regain control of himself. He began to think hard.

Pike answered Milton’s telephone. ‘Sorry, sir. He’s not here. He should be back in about ten minutes. Can I…’

Amiss interrupted with the news about Rachel.

‘Don’t sympathize, Sammy. It’s time for action. Two things. Tell Jim it’s vital that he gets some local police round to Bill’s house immediately, in the hope of getting there before he arrives home. And please find out for me where Rachel’s been taken and how she is. I’ll be round within fifteen minutes if I can get a taxi. Oh, and Sammy. In case I’m held up, tell Jim to tell the coppers to stick with Bill until told otherwise. Goodbye.’

Milton was deeply shocked, but before he started asking questions he telephoned the Surrey force and issued an urgent request. By the time he had elicited from Pike all the information he had, Amiss had burst in on them.

‘What can I say, Robert?’ began Milton.

‘Nothing, Jim. Have you found out yet where she is, Sammy?’

Pike told him. ‘She’s having an operation, Robert. We won’t know for a while if she’s going to be all right. But they’ve promised to ring here as soon as they’ve got anything to tell us.’

Amiss sat on the edge of Milton’s desk. ‘Thank you, Sammy.’ He suddenly realized that Pike had called him by his Christian name and found that somehow consoling.

‘Right,’ he said, hoping he was as much in charge of himself as he sounded, ‘I am now not thinking about Rachel. I’m thinking about her attacker. Have you done what I asked about Bill?’

‘I have. But purely on a basis of simple trust. Please fill me in.’

‘Is Pooley around?’

‘Yes. I expect so. He always stays late these days.’

‘I think he should be here. We’re probably going to need him.’

Pike looked enquiringly at Milton, who nodded. Pike left and returned within a minute with Pooley, who was looking distressed. Milton made the introductions. ‘Ellis,’ he added, ‘you should know that Robert has been fully in touch with the progress we’ve made up to now.’

Pike and Pooley sat down in their usual chairs. Amiss stayed on his perch, and began to speak, emphasizing the occasional point by kicking Milton’s desk viciously.

‘I might have saved us all a lot of trouble… And indeed, I might have saved Rachel’s life… or, to try to be optimistic, saved her from serious injury, had I remembered before now that I thought I saw Bill Thomas at Heathrow last December.’

‘Don’t start the masochistic stuff,’ Milton warned. ‘Just tell us about this.’

Amiss got a grip on himself. ‘One Friday in December I went to Paris – as I often did – to see Rachel. I saw someone I thought was Bill Thomas. I then realized it couldn’t be him, because he always said he never travelled, so I dismissed it as a chance resemblance.’

‘As one does on these occasions,’ interjected Pooley.

‘Thank you for that, Ellis. I appreciate it. I suppose one does. I am merely expressing the view that it was something I might have remembered when I heard you were plugging the idea of the foreign strychnine source. As it was, it took the shock of hearing about Rachel and trying to imagine what had happened to bring the memory back.’

‘I’m sorry, I don’t quite understand,’ said Pike. ‘Are you saying that Bill Thomas tried to kill her this evening because she saw him at the airport?’

‘I see no other explanation.’

‘It could have been one of the others, Robert,’ pointed out Milton. ‘The December episode could really have been a non-event. She might have seen someone else tonight… Christ! What am I doing sitting here?’

He jumped up. ‘Sammy, you and I are going to see Thomas now. Ellis and Robert, stay here. You’ll be able to get news of Rachel as well as act as co-ordinators. Ellis, get a check made on whether any of the suspects has been out tonight. You’ve got Thomas’s phone number. Ring me there when you’ve got something to tell me. And I want you both to think hard about his character, his possible motives, and anything remotely relevant that might be useful to me when I talk to him.’

As Pike closed the door behind them and they started to stride down the corridor, he said, ‘Just one thing, sir. If Miss Simon survives she’ll be able to identify her assailant, if this theory is correct.’

‘Yes, Sammy. But we don’t know yet if she’s going to survive.’

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Milton thanked the local police and explained that he no longer required their services. He and Pike sat in the armchairs of Bill’s three-piece suite, arid looked at the mild little man on the sofa.

‘You were just out for a walk?’

‘That’s right, superintendent. I went out for a little exercise about half past seven, and when I came back all these policemen were waiting for me. I don’t know what’s going on. I really don’t.’

Milton felt his faith in Amiss’s theory begin to crumble. He steeled himself. ‘Rachel Simon has been stabbed at Heathrow Airport. You will understand that we have to assume there is a connection between that event and the PD murders.’

‘Is that that nice girlfriend of Robert’s?’

‘Yes.’

‘Oh, that’s dreadful. Poor Robert. Is she all right?’

Milton looked at him intently. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘She’s going to be fine.’

Bill smiled with apparent delight. ‘I’m so pleased,’ he said. ‘It would have been dreadful if she had been seriously injured.’

‘She is however unconscious and therefore cannot yet tell us the identity of her attacker, so we are making enquiries independently.’ He wondered what reaction he would have got had he said: ‘She is alive and says you were the attacker.’ Sometimes he wished he suffered from fewer ethical hang-ups.

‘Oh, I quite understand, superintendent. I know you’re only doing your job. But, as I say, I just went out for a walk for about half an hour.’

‘Can you tell us your movements since you left work?’

‘I left the office at five, as usual, and caught my normal train at ten to six from Victoria. I got to the local station about twenty-five past and was home fifteen minutes later. Then I had something to eat and went out at half past seven.’

‘Can anyone confirm this? Did you meet anyone on the train, for instance? Or did anyone ring you?’

‘No, superintendent. But I did wave at Miss Kipling at seven when I drew my curtains. She was just coming home with her dog.’

Shit, shit, shit, thought Milton. ‘She lives opposite, does she?’

‘Yes. At number fifteen.’

‘Sammy, would you just pop across and have a quick word with her?’

During Pike’s absence, Milton attempted to make polite conversation, but his mind was racing. It would be just his bloody luck if it turned out that every bugger had an alibi. But coincidences like that just couldn’t happen. Could they?

Pike came in looking solemn. ‘Miss Kipling confirms Mr Thomas’s statement, sir.’

‘Very well. Mr Thomas, I don’t need to trouble you any more. But I should be very grateful if you would permit me to make a reverse-charges call to my office.’

‘Of course, superintendent. The phone is on that table in the corner. I’ll just pop out to the kitchen and leave you to have your conversation in private.’

‘That is most considerate of you, sir.’

As Milton went to the phone, he and Pike exchanged expressive looks. While he waited for the operator to put him through, he tapped his foot impatiently. He was desperate for news of Rachel. He spared a fleeting thought for Amiss, who would be deeply disappointed that his idea had proved to be a non-starter.

‘Hello, Ellis. Anything from the hospital?’

‘Yes, indeed, sir. Just come in. She’s going to be fine. He missed all the vital bits, if only by a fraction. All pretty superficial, but she won’t be out from under the anaesthetic for a couple of hours.’

‘That’s marvellous. Hang on.’ He put his hand over the mouth-piece and passed the good news on to Pike. ‘Ellis. Have any witnesses been found?’

‘Afraid not, sir. Everyone who was in the vicinity was absorbed in reading, looking at magazine pictures, that kind of thing.’

‘I expected that. It must have been the best spot in the whole departure area. Now, Bill Thomas has an alibi, so I need to know about the others. Have you made contact with them?’

‘Just a moment, sir. I’ll tell Robert.’

He came back on the line. ‘He wants to know what the alibi is.’

Robert is being stubborn, thought Milton impatiently, but he gave Pooley the brief facts. Pooley came back again. ‘He’s thinking.’

‘Good, good, good. Let him think away. Maybe Miss Kipling is Bill’s secret lover. Now will you answer my question?’

‘Sorry, sir. You can rule out Farson. He’s definitely been at home all evening. Graham Illingworth wasn’t there. His mother-in-law answered the phone and said that he and his wife have gone away for the weekend. She’s looking after Gail.’

Milton allowed himself a moment for self-congratulation. He might well have a future as a marriage guidance counsellor. ‘They haven’t gone abroad by any chance?’

‘No. They’ve gone to a hotel in Bognor.’

‘Sounds like a suitable place for him. And the others?’

‘There’s no answer from Crump or Short. But we’ve got a car outside both their houses. Crump isn’t with his family and Short isn’t at the rugby club. But we’ll keep trying.’

‘I’d better come back to the office, then. There’s no point in dashing off to sit outside deserted houses.’

‘Just a moment, sir. Robert wants a word.’

‘Jim. There’s a question you must ask Bill.’

‘Miss Kipling, Robert.’

‘Screw Miss Kipling. She might have dreamed it. Ask him to show you his briefcase.’

Milton considered this statement for a moment. ‘Of course. You mean he might have a bloodstained knife in it.’

‘He might have his pyjamas. His passport. Anything.’

‘OK, I take your point. Hold on.’

He went into the kitchen, where Bill was washing a shirt. ‘Excuse me, Mr Thomas.’ He felt distinctly embarrassed. ‘Just one small thing. Could I have a look at the contents of your briefcase?’

If Bill was disconcerted, he showed no signs of it. He began carefully to wring out his shirt and said, ‘I’m afraid you can’t, superintendent. I lost it on the way home tonight.’

‘I see. On the train?’

‘Yes indeed. I hope British Rail will be able to find it for me. It has a few personal effects in it that I’d be sorry to lose. Of course, it may have been stolen. There are some dishonest people around these days, you know.’