‘Well, first of all, we’re not sure that it was murder, but somebody did hit him over the head. At the moment we’re calling it a suspicious death.’ Might as well clarify that right from the beginning. ‘When did you last see Goodrich?’
‘Good grief, let me see. Must be over six months ago. I’ve only seen him once since we…since…’
‘Since you went bankrupt?’
‘Since we called the receiver in.’
‘So what made you think you might be next on the list?’
The bottom of his tie looked like a spring roll and I felt hungry. He realised what he was doing and flattened it against his stomach. ‘Well,’ he began, ‘I, er, assumed it was a mad creditor, out for revenge because he’d lost a few quid. They should see what we’ve lost. They all think that we’re the villains of the piece, but we’ve been hurt most of all. The blame really lies with the banks. If they hadn’t pulled the plug on us, nobody would have been hurt.’
And Robert Maxwell was a big cuddly teddy bear. I asked them where they were on Sunday night, Monday morning — not because I cared but because that was what they expected me to ask. They never left the house.
‘Are there any creditors who have been particularly hostile, or threatened violence?’ I asked.
‘Yes,’ he replied. ‘In fact, I’ve a file of letters you can take with you. Nearly binned them all. Glad I didn’t, now.’
Mrs Davis pulled herself upright and volunteered to fetch the letters.
‘Thanks. So what are your immediate plans? Are you staying here?’
‘Not sure, Inspector. I have a couple of business trips scheduled, trying to sort out a few things — you know how it is. But it’s good to be home again. Don’t see why the buggers should drive me away. What do you think?’
I thought it was complicated, trying to solve a crime you didn’t know about while pretending to investigate one that hadn’t happened. ‘We’re not expecting him to strike again,’ I assured him, and immediately wondered if this was misleading advice. Ah well, never mind, I thought.
He walked out with me. ‘One last thing,’ I said as I opened the car door. ‘If it was the diamonds that collapsed, why did Goodrich go bankrupt?’
‘Because, underneath, he was a foolish man,’ Davis replied. ‘I’m in this business to make money, and don’t deny it. I’m proud of it. As long as it’s legal, I’ll consider anything. But that wasn’t enough for Goodrich. He wanted to be popular too. Looked up to. A valuable member of the community. When the banks foreclosed on us he thought he could come out of it smelling of roses without any of his punters losing, so he did what all desperate men do: he gambled. Bought shares in uranium mines in godforsaken holes in the Kalahari desert; thought he could find another Poseidon; that sort of thing, instead of facing them and saying: “Sorry, I’ve lost your money.” In the end he lost everything.’
‘Right,’ I said, nodding as if I understood. ‘Thanks for your help. Oh, and I’d be grateful if you could leave word of your whereabouts if you go away for more than a couple of days. Something else might crop up that we need your help with.’
‘I’ll do that, Inspector,’ he replied with a smile that would have melted the heart of a traffic warden.
Maggie was in the office when I trudged through the door twenty minutes later. ‘Hi, boss,’ she greeted me. ‘Where’ve you been skiving all day?’
‘Oh, you know. A little shopping, weeded a couple of herbaceous borders, took in a show.’ I plonked K. Tom Davis’s file of poison pen letters on her desk. ‘Take a look at those when you have a minute, but not as bedtime reading.’
‘What are they?’
‘Customer reaction, after losing their life savings. Oh, and when you have a chance have a word with the Devonshire Hotel, please, find out who’s been staying there the last couple of nights. Anything for me?’
‘No. The couple of villains among the creditors had alibis that you could have lined a nuclear reactor with. I suppose it would have been less suspicious if they hadn’t.’
‘You mean they could have taken a contract out on Goodrich?’
‘It’s possible?’
‘I don’t know. It wasn’t exactly an IRA job, and I can’t see the Mafia sentencing anyone to death by blow to the head with a flower pot, can you?’
‘Unless they realised he was already dead.’
‘Mmm. Could be.’
‘Mike Freer rang,’ she told me. ‘Said you’d offered to do a bust for him. Wants a word with you about it. Apparently a load of heroin from the Continent has suddenly started appearing on the streets.’
‘Great.’ I tried his number but he wasn’t in.
‘How’s Annabelle keeping?’ Margaret enquired as I replaced the phone. She’s kept a weather eye on my love-life ever since my divorce.
‘Huh, don’t ask,’ I snorted.
‘Oh no,’ she sighed. ‘What have you done now?’
I told her about the swans in the park, about Donald and the episode with the rat, and how I had purloined his coffee mug for a sample of his prints.
She shook her head with disbelief. ‘This is serious, Charlie,’ she declared.
‘You think so?’
‘You let her down and I bet that’s a big sin in the eyes of someone like Annabelle. This is going to take more than a bunch of flowers.’
I was saved from further depression by the phone. ‘What’s the difference between an astronaut and constipation?’ Mike Freer’s voice intoned in my ear.
‘I’m…longing to hear,’ I told him.
‘An astronaut goes to Mars but constipation mars your goes.’
‘Gosh, yes. What else did it say on your cornflakes packet?’
‘It said that we’d be very grateful if you could hit Michael Angelo. We picked somebody up who’d just made a collection from him, at his home. It’s the same stuff that we’re finding all over the place. From the Continent, and we think he’s the major distributor.’
‘How do you know it’s all the same stuff?’
‘Analysis — gas chromatography, mass spectrometers, all that gizmology. Far too complicated for you, Charlie. Basically, what it tells us is that if it grew in yak shit, it comes from Tibet. We can nearly describe which field.’
‘Right. Let me give it some thought. Pencil us in for the middle of next week.’
‘Will do. Oh, and Charlie…’
‘What?’
‘Remember, possession might be nine points of the law, but it’s twelve at Scrabble.’
‘Definitely, and there’s many a true word spoken in Chester. S’long. I’ve work to do.’
I replaced the phone before he could come back to me and gave my brow a mock wipe.
‘Freer, at a guess,’ Maggie said.
‘The one and only.’
‘No, he’s not — I know where there’s a big houseful like him. So what are we doing next week?’
I rocked back on my chair and tried to grip my pen between my nose and top lip, but I couldn’t manage it. Outside, the sun was shining, and a couple of jet fighters streaked by, a long way off, looking for defenceless sheep to fire pretend missiles at. I might have been a fighter pilot, if you didn’t have to wear those overalls with pockets down below the knees.
‘Maggie,’ I said.
‘Yes, Charles.’
‘What would happen…just supposing…if I did something really stupid? I mean…stupid. Would they retire me early, do you think?’
‘How stupid do you mean?’
‘Stupid stupid.’
‘That stupid?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Nobody would notice.’
‘C’mon, Maggie. I’m being serious.’
‘OK. What you’re saying is, if you did something that was an embarrassment to the force, would they retire you early on full pension?’
‘Exactly,’ I declared, giving her a thumbs-up.
‘No.’
‘No?’
‘No.’
‘Shit. Why not?’
‘Times are changing. They won’t let you out on ill health these days if you still have one of all the things God gave us two of.’