"That's all I need, a bloody maze to get lost in."
"I know how you feel, Inspector." Demonstrating a willingness to collaborate might not be such a bad thing, thought Maisie. "I'll do my best to find a way through at this end. Has a motive been established?"
"Could have been someone he was working for, come to see what he'd brought in from his day's work. He could have owed money to the sort of person you should never owe money to. Who knows, with a fellow like that? Our men are talking to the neighbors, and they're looking for anyone he associated with. Seems he'd been seen with a woman lately. Bit of a nice-looking woman, according to a report. Apparently she was nicely turned out, even if her clothes weren't brand spanking new."
"Did she have dark hair?"
"Yes, she did. Know anything?"
"It might be nothing, but Mr. Clifton said he saw a man and woman arguing in the hotel foyer on the day of the attack. He remembered her dark hair."
"The hotel should have their names."
"I don't think they were guests. But they were there for a reason-you don't just wander into the Dorchester unless you are staying there or meeting someone. In any case, they were asked to leave, I understand. That sort of racket isn't appreciated by guests at the Dorchester."
"I could have done with a different sort of crime to launch my promotion." Caldwell sighed. "What would you like me to do with this document case, when we're finished with it?"
"Was it empty?'
"There's a Victorinox knife-a good one, I can see. And a small bag of tools. I won't ask what you might use these for. No papers, but a couple of those medical masks."
"A pair of rubber gloves?"
"No, but now I know why we didn't find any dabs other than those of the deceased."
"And the case is badly stained."
"Put it this way, Miss Dobbs. My wife accuses me of being a hoarder, of keeping things that are old, don't work, or are beyond repair-and I would throw this in the dustbin without looking back, particularly with that man's blood all over it."
"Then please dispose of it when it has served its purpose as far as Scotland Yard is concerned."
"Sorry about that. After all, it meant a lot to you."
Maisie nodded. "Yes. It held a lot of memories, but at least they can't be stolen or destroyed. I'd like the other items back, though-the knife was a gift from my father."
"Right you are. In the meantime, I'll keep you apprised of the Cliftons' progress. I know you're working in their best interests. The elder son will be here soon; however, one more thing-don't be surprised if you receive a visit from an American embassy official. The fact that two American citizens were attacked has given rise to their own internal investigation, and I've already had representatives from the embassy under my feet."
"Forewarned is forearmed, Inspector. Thank you."
"Now then, I've got work to do here."
"Thank you for your telephone call, your consideration is much appreciated."
Maisie replaced the receiver and turned to Billy.
"Mullen copped it then?"
"Yes. Blunt object to the head, significant loss of blood, and most of it drenched my document case."
"Aw, that's rotten, Miss."
"Mind you, I have the examiner's name. We might need to see him at some point. In the meantime, Billy, I'd like you to see what you can turn up on Mullen. I know Caldwell is being very accommodating, very friendly, but that's not to say he'll share and share alike with the most pertinent information. And you think you can see those other women on your list by the end of tomorrow?"
"Yes, Miss."
"Good. I suppose you'll start with the watering holes in the search for more on Mullen."
"I keep it to a half a pint for me, and as much for the other blokes as it takes for them to totter down memory lane and reveal all." Billy tapped the side of his nose and winked in a conspiratorial fashion. "That's one thing about us East Enders, Miss, we've got the gift of the gab, and we're good at telling stories. I just have to find the blokes who are good at the telling-as long as it's the truth. Being a Londoner, I can always tell. Might even be a gut feeling."
"And you'll let me know if there's anything I can do for Doreen?"
Billy pulled his coat from the hook behind the door and turned to Maisie as he placed his cap on his head. "I'm sure she'd like to see you, Miss, if you can spare the time. It always meant a lot to her, that you came over to Shoreditch for our Lizzie, and that you did so much for her." He looked down at the floor. "And it meant a lot to me, that you sorted it all out for Doreen, that you got her out of that terrible asylum and into a decent hospital with a doctor who could really help her. So, if you can come over, I'd-"
"Of course I can, Billy. How about Friday afternoon, as soon as I've finished with the man with the cine film?"
Billy smiled. "Thanks, Miss. I'll see you tomorrow morning, then."
"Bright and early."
Mullen's been good to me. They're all pretty good to me. There's a bit of teasing here and here, but I get along fine with everyone-well, almost everyone. I don't know that Mullen and I would ever have become friends in civvy street, but here in France, and out there when we're working, Mullen has become my friend, and it's good to have a buddy-or a mate. As Mullen said, "You and me's mates." I told him that, when all this is over and I go out to California again, I'll need good men to work with me, and he said he'd come like a shot ("Couldn't keep me back, guv'nor," he said). The fact is that I've talked about my land so much now, I am sure Mullen knows every last inch of it, almost as if he'd been there himself. He's a good worker, a man to depend on. This war might have created soldiers of some and officers of others, but it also mixes people up, blends them together. I think Mullen might have been in a bit of trouble before the war, which is probably why he enlisted, and I reckon it's why he would like to hightail it out of Blighty when this whole thing is done. He's palled up to some of the officers, which is okay, whatever he wants to do, but some of the other lads don't seem to like it. They tell him off for sucking up. It doesn't hurt me-so long as we all do our jobs and get out of here, I don't mind what people do. I'm okay when there's no one around to get at me because he's got more pips on his shoulder.
Maisie turned the pages of Clifton's journal, once again cocooned within the quiet evening solitude of her flat. In the distance she could hear foghorns drone their song of warning along the river, their call like that of fairy-tale mermaids to boatmen navigating the sometimes treacherous waterway.
She wondered about Mullen and thought he was, perhaps, a man easily led, and probably by a yearning for a better life-after all, wasn't something better what most of a certain station wanted, if not for themselves, then for their children? But would Mullen have betrayed Michael Clifton's trust? If Mullen was the man who had attacked her-and without doubt evidence pointed in that direction-she did not sense that he could kill. The incident in the park seemed to have been an error; playing the memory back in her mind, as if it were a moving picture, she recalled the man turning to look back as she fell, a certain shock registered on his face, his eyes wide, as if in other circumstances he might be the first to come to her aid. And then he was gone, running away with his catch: her document case. What was he after? Indeed, if he was working for someone else, what did they think they would find? She had just left the hotel and her meeting with Thomas Libbert, so it was fair to assume that she had been observed entering and later exiting the hotel. Could Libbert be involved, perhaps informing a waiting Mullen that their quarry was on her way out? Had he instructed him to the effect that the old black case she carried must be obtained at all costs? Or was Mullen-a "tea boy" to more powerful men, according to Caldwell-working for someone else altogether? All in all, as she leafed through the journal, she thought Mullen might have been a likable rogue but a weak man, a man who would follow the scent of a quick shilling earned by dishonorable means.