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Authors: Hunter Alan

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BOOK: Gently Floating
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‘Why couldn’t he have seen it?’ Gently said.

‘Because he was somewhere else,’ Lidney said. ‘There, that’s evidence, put that down. He was somewhere else, he couldn’t have seen it.’

‘How do you know?’ Gently said.

‘Because I know where he was,’ Lidney said.

‘Then you know when French was killed,’ Gently said.

‘Didn’t know it was a secret,’ Lidney said, ‘is it?’

‘Apparently not to you,’ Gently said. ‘So now you can tell us. When was he killed?’

Lidney looked at Gently with small eyes. ‘When someone copped him with a hammer.’ he said.

The shorthand writer wrote shorthand.

‘What makes you say a hammer?’ Gently said.

‘Because it was a bloody hammer,’ Lidney said. ‘That’s why. What his nibs was searching the yard for. Not my doorstopper, a bloody hammer.’

‘We don’t know it was a hammer,’ Gently said.

‘Then you’re the only ones who don’t know it,’ Lidney said. ‘Every bugger else does.’ He winked sweat from his eyes.

‘So,’ Gently said, ‘where were you at that time?’

‘Not where I could see it done either,’ Lidney said.

‘But where were you,’ Gently said, ‘where John French might think you’d done it?’

‘Never mind about young French,’ Lidney said.

‘Oh yes,’ Gently said, ‘we’ll have to keep him in the picture. He couldn’t have thought you’d done it if he’d been on the Sounds in a half-decker.’

‘I tell you never mind about him,’ Lidney said. ‘He was where he was, I was where I was. We didn’t neither of us see it done, that’s all that matters to you.’

‘And you were in the bungalow of course,’ Gently said.

‘I was,’ Lidney said. He checked. He clawed at the sweat with a hand.

‘Yes,’ Gently said.

‘I can prove it,’ Lidney said. ‘I can bloody prove where I was.’

‘But shall we believe it?’ Gently said.

Lidney’s mouth was a little open. His eyes weren’t focusing on Gently. His eyes were frowning, pulled down at the outside corners. His featherlike cheeks looked waxy. He said:

‘I can prove it all right. I know a way to prove that.’

‘Depending on your knowledge of the time he was killed,’ Gently said.

‘I can prove it,’ Lidney said ‘I don’t care what bloody time he was killed. I’m outside of it, every minute. I’ve got a witness you don’t know about.’

‘How convenient,’ Gently said. ‘Now you can tell us the whole story.’

‘There isn’t no story,’ Lidney said.

‘About the money for the dance hall,’ Gently said. ‘About the option falling in this week. About Harry French learning what you were up to. About his coming to your bungalow and getting killed with a hammer. About you blackmailing young French and Archer afterwards.’

‘All that’s squit I tell you,’ Lidney said.

‘Witnesses, young French and your cousins,’ Gently said.

‘I say it’s squit, all squit,’ Lidney said. ‘There wasn’t no blackmail, nothing like that. It was a business deal, that’s all it was.’

‘Oh yes,’ Gently said, ‘I don’t suppose you threatened very much, just pointed out what a favour you were doing by keeping a still tongue. Then Archer invented a new job and bumped your wages and young French was ready to rob his father’s estate to keep Sid’s peculiar temper sweet.’

‘It wasn’t blackmail,’ Lidney said.

‘It wasn’t business,’ Gently said. ‘It never was business from the start. I don’t hear of any partnership deed.’

‘We don’t bother with that sort of crap round here,’ Lidney said.

‘So Harry French discovered,’ Gently said. ‘And that was the end of Harry French.’

Lidney breathed fast, didn’t say anything.

‘You went out of that bungalow,’ Gently said. ‘French got the better of you in the fight. Your wife took over. You went out. Later French went out, your wife hadn’t fixed him. Later still you came back in. You’d nothing to say. You began drinking. When young French left the bungalow you were still drinking. And Harry French was floating in the river.’

‘I don’t know anything about that,’ Lidney said.

‘If you don’t,’ Gently said, ‘who does?’

‘You bugger,’ Lidney said, ‘you nice bugger.’

‘Was it,’ Gently said, ‘your wife, who followed him out?’

Lidney’s eyes were filmed, staring big. He shuffled a foot and moved his weight on it. The floodlight was throwing a big shadow behind him and because of his hump the shadow looked headless. He said:

‘You, you keep Rhoda out of it.’

‘Why should I?’ Gently said. ‘There’s only young French to vouch for her.’

‘You let Rhoda alone,’ Lidney said.

‘Is young French lying then?’ Gently said.

‘So he was there,’ Lidney said.

‘Of course he was there,’ Gently said.

‘I don’t know what Rhoda did with him,’ Lidney said. ‘She switched him about, his old man didn’t find him.’

‘When he came looking for him,’ Gently said.

‘All right,’ Lidney said, ‘when he came looking for him.’

‘When you had the fight in the passage,’ Gently said.

Lidney felt for the chair. He sat.

‘Go on,’ Gently said, ‘when you had the fight.’

‘I threw the doorstopper at him,’ Lidney said. ‘The bastard knocked me down in my own house. I threw it at him. Hit his shoulder. In my own house that was. The big bastard. The big bastard. She come out and stopped us fighting. He wouldn’t have lasted, the bloody slob. She came out, give him the key. She’d got the kid out of it. He never found him.’

‘Yes,’ Gently said.

‘Like that,’ Lidney said. ‘The kid was round the place all the time. He knows she never followed the old man out. He was there. He was with her when I got back.’

‘When you got back from where?’ Gently said.

‘She sent me out,’ Lidney said. ‘Reckoned she could handle him best on her own, get round him, smooth him down.’

‘You went somewhere,’ Gently said.

Lidney clawed at his sweat. ‘Up the rond,’ he said.

‘Away from the bridge,’ Gently said.

‘Yes,’ Lidney said, ‘away from the bridge.’

‘Did you meet anyone?’ Gently said.

‘As far as the mill,’ Lidney said, ‘I was fighting that bastard all the way. As far as the mill, that’s where I went.’

‘And you didn’t meet anyone?’ Gently said.

‘Up at the mill,’ Lidney said. ‘I was standing there near the mill-dyke. I don’t know how long I was standing there. There was a wireless on in Bob Tooke’s cottage. The window was open, it was the news. Bob was sitting there mending a fishing pole. I didn’t go up, say nothing to him.’

Gently looked at Joyce. Joyce got up, went out.

‘Then you came back,’ Gently said.

‘The kid was with her when I got back,’ Lidney said. ‘It’s right. I went in and got the bottle. I was still fighting him. They were yapping.’

‘What did you see as you came back?’ Gently said.

‘What should I see?’ Lidney said.

‘You might have met someone,’ Gently said, ‘seen someone further down the path.’

‘I didn’t see anyone,’ Lidney said.

‘Perhaps a light?’ Gently said.

Lidney screwed his eyes shut, passed his hand over them.

‘What light did you see?’ Gently said.

‘You frigger,’ Lidney said. ‘You will have it, won’t you?’

‘Yes,’ Gently said, ‘I’ll have it.’

‘You bloody know I didn’t do it,’ Lidney said.

‘I wouldn’t be too certain,’ Gently said.

Lidney kept his eyes screwed, said: ‘The door was open. That’s all I saw. Where they were working. The light shone out of it. I didn’t see any more than that.’

‘Quite sure?’ Gently said.

‘Much good may it do you,’ Lidney said. ‘They sent the right bastard on this job, you don’t give an inch, do you?’

‘So now what about a statement?’ Gently said.

‘You’ve got all the statement I’m giving you,’ Lidney said.

‘I’ll dictate one for you,’ Gently said. ‘You can make your own corrections.’

Lidney looked at him, wiped the sweat.

Gently dictated the statement. Lidney listened. He didn’t interrupt as Gently dictated. He sat leaning forward on the low chair with his long arms crossed on his short knees. Gently spoke slowly, distinctly. The pencil rustled over the paper. In Trafalgar Road outside it was becoming dark. So far Joyce hadn’t returned. At the end of the statement Gently said to Lidney:

‘Have you anything to add or alter?’

Lidney said, still leaning forward: ‘Just type the shitting thing out, that’s all.’

‘If there are any substantial changes we’d like to have them now,’ Gently said.

‘If there were you’d know about them,’ Lidney said. ‘Never mind all the crap, let’s get it over.’

The shorthand man went away to type the statement. Gently switched off the flood, lit his pipe. Parfitt had been smoking cigarettes, he smoked two more. Lidney didn’t ask to smoke, didn’t move. Parfitt looked at Gently once or twice without catching his eye. They could hear the typewriter pattering in another room. A moth flew in through the window, buzzed, tapped about the lamps. Parfitt watched the moth. Gently said very softly:

‘When did you know who did it?’

Lidney moved his head, said: ‘Just frig off.’

Gently blew smoke at the ceiling. ‘Save me some trouble,’ he said. ‘You’ve given me plenty.’

‘It’s what you’re paid for,’ Lidney said.

‘Who else knows,’ Gently said, ‘apart from Archer?’

Lidney sat still, didn’t say anything, held his breathing in check. The moth went on butting at the light bulbs. Parfitt didn’t watch it, frowned. The typing stopped. The shorthand man came back, handed the typed statement to Gently. Gently read it aloud to Lidney. Lidney got up impatiently, moved to the desk. The sweat had dried on his face, he wasn’t puckering his eyes, he looked at the penstand, didn’t look at Gently. Gently finished, said:

‘Is that correct?’

‘Give me the bastard here,’ Lidney said.

Gently turned the statement towards him, Lidney took a pen from the penstand, dipped it, wrote splutteringly, made a blot, swore. He threw down the pen.

‘Is that the bloody lot?’ he said.

‘Not quite,’ Gently said. ‘We haven’t heard from our man yet.’

‘Do you think I’d sling my hook, is that it?’ Lidney said.

Gently didn’t reply, took the statement, countersigned it, relit his pipe. They waited. Joyce rang. Lidney had begun to sweat again. His eyes were sharp on the phone, he leaned his head forward towards it. Gently hung up, looked at Lidney, said:

‘All right. You’re clear for the moment.’

‘So I should bloody think,’ Lidney said.

‘We’ll run you home,’ Gently said.

‘Oh no,’ Lidney said, ‘you’re not running me home.’ His eyes needled at Gently. ‘I’ve had enough of you buggers,’ he said. ‘I’m taking a bus. I’d walk home sooner. I’d sooner bloody crawl home.’

Parfitt said: ‘You’ll crawl into a cell Lidney if you give us any more of that sort of language.’

‘You don’t count,’ Lidney said. ‘You’re just the boy. Pipe down. Listen to what he tells you.’

Parfitt got to his feet.

‘Get out,’ Gently said to Lidney.

The uniform man took Lidney’s arm. Lidney kicked the chair aside, went out. When he was outside he reached round the uniform man and slammed the door. Parfitt rushed to the door.

‘No,’ Gently said.

‘I’ll smash his ugly face in,’ Parfitt said.

‘Then you’ll do what he wants you to do,’ Gently said. ‘Come back and sit down, let him go.’

‘But why are we letting him go?’ Parfitt said. ‘I’ll slap a bloody charge on him if you won’t.’

‘It wouldn’t do any good,’ Gently said, ‘come back and sit down. We’ve got what we want. Let him go.’

Parfitt turned, looked across at Gently.

‘Order up some coffee,’ Gently said.

‘I don’t want coffee,’ Parfitt said. ‘I want to hit someone.’

‘But there’s nobody to hit,’ Gently said. ‘Nobody.’

CHAPTER TEN

T
HUS GROWING LATE
on the night of Saturday August 8th being a clear night with stars and the adumbrating glow of two cities being the night when yesterday’s empty moorings were full and today’s packed quays were empty when the same boats had gone to the same places though with different people but with the same ineptitudes; on such a night as was this Superintendent Gently took Harry French’s launch took it unlighted out of the yacht basin into the river through the bridge. Because there were few boats not yet set forth because the people in them were fresh to it and so self-absorbed because Reuben had moved his fair to Wraxstead and because Gently used no lights Inspector Parfitt he only observed Gently’s passage through the bridge watched the launch pull over to its left moor a faint shadow on the glimmer of water. Then Inspector Parfitt having looked long and hard lit a cigarette strolled off the bridge went to sit in the car as he had been instructed and took no more part in that matter at that time; while Superintendent Gently after mooring at the rond looping his orange painter where Harry French had looped the painter he crossed the rough ground turned left down the cinder path came to the gate of the Speltons’ house went through it through the garden to the door of the house which was closed though lights showed in the office window; and knocked quietly twice on the door.

David Spelton answered the knock. He said nothing to Superintendent Gently but stood looking at him. Superintendent Gently after a few moments made to enter through the door and David Spelton fell back. Superintendent Gently went into the office and David Spelton followed him after closing the outer door. Behind the desk in the office Jack Spelton was sitting. He had a handmade cigarette in the corner of his mouth a tin of papers and cigarette roller in front of him also a box of matches and a full ashtray; he was squinting at the ashtray breaking spent matches into it didn’t look at Gently when Gently entered didn’t say anything to Gently drew at the cigarette broke matches. David Spelton threw himself on a chair. Gently sat on another chair. Apart from the snapping of the matches and David Spelton’s breathing there was silence in the office for upwards of a minute. Then David Spelton jumped up, said:

‘Are you just going to bloody sit there?’

Gently was watching Jack Spelton. Jack Spelton nostrilled smoke broke matches.

BOOK: Gently Floating
10.02Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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