The Stone-­Cold Dead in the Market Affair - Oram John (версия книг .TXT) 📗

"Thrush," Blodwen interjected.

"Exactly. You will notice that I used the word 'hampered,' not 'defeated.' Our plans are too carefully devised and too far advanced to be defeated by your clumsy intervention. You have been watched ever since your masquerade brought you to my club. Your quarrel with the woman called French Louise was a bad mistake. That brought you into the open."

"Then what's your problem?"

She made a deprecating gesture. "Please do not attempt to be facetious. I wish you to tell me exactly and in detail how far your investigations have gone."

"That," said Blodwen, "will be the day."

Anna was unmoved. She said, "I can assure you the day has come. The only question is whether you tell me of your own free will the things I wish to know. If you do not, the alternative will be unpleasant but inevitable."

Blodwen laughed. She said, "I don't suppose another murder would worry you. But I won't be much good to you dead."

"I did not mention murder. It is conceivable, however, that death might seem preferable to continued existence." Anna rose and went to the bellpush in the wall. When she returned to her chair she said, "No doubt you have been told many times that you are a very pretty girl."

"So?"

"You will see."

There was a tap on the door and Luigi entered.

Anna said, "Bring Emile to me."

He looked at Blodwen and grinned unpleasantly. "Right away," he said.

The creature with whom he returned was barely human. He was not more than five feet tall but his chest under a ragged plaid shirt measured all of forty-four inches. Long arms, gorilla-like, swung loosely as he shambled into the room. Coarse, matted black hair hung low over the vacant eyes of a cretin. The thick-lipped mouth hung half-open, showing yellow, broken teeth.

Luigi said, "Stay!" as one would to a dog, and he halted obediently, his unfocused eyes shifting from one woman to the other.

Anna spoke gently. "Emile," she said, "do you like this pretty lady?"

He turned his head slowly toward Blodwen and made an inarticulate sound halfway between a growl and a moan. She stepped back involuntarily as he reached out a paw to touch her.

Anna said, "That is enough. Take him away."

Then, to Blodwen: "In a few moments Luigi will take you back to the cellar. I will give you exactly one hour in which to consider your position. If at the end of that time you have not become more amenable, I shall send Emile to persuade you. To make the experience more interesting, I have instructed Luigi to remove the light bulb. You will be able to have a pleasant game of hide-and-seek though I fear the end will never be in doubt."

Luigi came back and stood waiting in the doorway.

"There is still time," Anna said. "Are you sure you have nothing to say to me?"

"As a matter of fact, I have," Blodwen said. "Fry in hell, you Chinese cow."

Chapter Fourteen

Detective-Inspector Jevons arrived at the Berwick Street apartment within minutes of Solo's telephone call. He brought his detective-sergeant with him. Hard on their heels came the police photographer, the fingerprint experts and the divisional surgeon.

"I'll want statements from you both," Jevons told Solo and Illya. "It's a pity you weren't candid with me in the first place. Have you touched anything?"

"Only the telephone receiver and the outside of the door," Solo said.

"Good. There'll be enough fingerprints to check, without your complicating the issue. She wasn't exactly a nun."

He turned to the doctor, who had just finished his examination of the body. "What's the verdict, Doc?"

"In non-technical terms, a clean stab straight to the heart, delivered from above by a right-handed assailant."

"Man or woman?"

The doctor took off his glasses and polished the lenses. "It would have taken a pretty hefty woman to deliver a blow of such force," he said. "And it was a strictly professional job. I think I should be inclined to go for a male."

"Time of death?"

"Give or take a few minutes, not more than an hour ago. You'll get my report in due course, but it looks like a straightforward case." He nodded, picked up his bag and hurried out of the room.

Illya, still carrying the poodle, looked gloomily at the photographer busy with his pictures. He asked, "What do you make of it, Inspector? Another Bambini job?"

"It could be. He knew the woman," Jevons said. "But it doesn't look like his style. He'd have been more likely to cut her face to ribbons. And the weapon doesn't tell us much. It's an ordinary Commando dagger. There must be thousands of them in circulation. There are no prints on the hilt. The killer must have worn gloves. Like the doctor said, he was a professional."

"And a kidnapper," Solo said. "Whoever he is, he's got Blodwen. She would never have walked out of here without the dog. It was like a kid to her."

Jevons brought a pouch out of his pocket and began to fill the pipe. "What was she doing here?" he asked. "Did you know she was coming to see the woman?"

"You know as much as we do," Illya said. "You heard her say in the restaurant that she was going back to the hotel. We haven't seen her since."

Jevons called to the fingerprint men: "Have you finished with the telephone?"

"All clear, sir."

"Good." He picked up the receiver and dialed the number of the Savoy.

"Well, that's that," he said at last, replacing the instrument. "She went back to the hotel but left again with the dog shortly after eleven o'clock. She got into a taxi and the doorman heard her tell the driver to take her to this address. We'll but out a call for the cabbie, of course, but I don't suppose he'll be able to tell us much."

The telephone rang. He picked up the receiver again and listened. Then his expression lightened. He said, "Right! We'll be over."

He turned to Solo, "They picked up Bambini in Stephen Street. They've just brought him in. You'd better come back with me."

The three men went down the stairs and pushed through the crowd of rubbernecks gathered around the front of the building. Reporters struggled to get at the inspector before he could gain the sanctuary of the police car.

"No statement," he told them. "Ring the press room." The car moved off, leaving them still shouting questions."

Back in his office Jevons told Solo and Illya, "You realize that you're here quite unofficially. I can't allow you to be present while I interview Bambini. What happens after he's been charged is something else again. Maybe your people will get in touch with the Home Office and regularize the position. Meanwhile, I'm hoping you may be able to help by filling in on the background of any statement I get out of him."

"Where is he?" Solo asked.

"Down below, in an interview room. I'm going to talk to him now. It may be a long job, so make yourselves at home."

He picked up a file from his desk and went out.

After a while a constable appeared with the inevitable mugs of tea. He looked at the poodle, which was padding moodily about the room, bent down and scratch its ear. "Nice little chap, isn't he?" he said. "Though personally I prefer something with more meat on it."

Illya said, "The he's a she. Is there anywhere she could get a meal and bed down for a couple of hours?"