'That was Mr Druce Winton, reading a selection from Maud by Lord Tennyson. This ends the National Programme. Good night, everybody.'
Chapter 3
1
MATHER'S train got in at eleven that night and with Saunders he drove straight through the almost empty streets to the police station. Nottwich went to bed early; the cinemas closed at ten-thirty and a quarter of an hour later everyone had left the middle of Nottwich by tram or bus. Nottwich's only tart hung round the market place, cold and blue under her umbrella, and one or two business men were having a last cigar in the hall of the Metropole. The car slid on the icy road. Just before the police station Mather noticed the posters of Aladdin outside the Royal Theatre. He said to Saunders, 'My girl's in that show.' He felt proud and happy.
The Chief Constable had come down to the police station to meet Mather. The fact that Raven was known to be armed and desperate gave the chase a more serious air than it would otherwise have had. The Chief Constable was fat and excited. He had made a lot of money as a tradesman and during the war had been given a commission and the job of presiding over the local military tribunal. He prided himself on having been a terror to pacifists. It atoned a little for his own home life and a wife who despised him. That was why he had come down to the station to meet Mather: it would be something to boast about at home.
Mather said, 'Of course, sir, we don't know he's here. But he was on the train all right, and his ticket was given up. By a woman.'
'Got an accomplice, eh?' the Chief Constable asked.
'Perhaps. Find the woman and we may have Raven.'
The Chief Constable belched behind his hand. He had been drinking bottled beer before he came out and it always repeated itself. The superintendent said, 'Directly we heard from the Yard we circulated the number of the notes to all shops, hotels and boarding houses.'
'That a map, sir,' Mather asked, 'with your beats marked?
They walked over to the wall and the superintendent pointed out the main points in Nottwich with a penciclass="underline" the railway station, the river, the police station.
'And the Royal Theatre,' Mather said, 'will be about there?'
'That's right.'
'What's brought 'im to Nottwich?' the Chief Constable asked.
'I wish we knew, sir. Now these streets round the station, are they hotels?'
'A few boarding houses. But the worst of it is,' the superintendent said, absent-mindedly turning his back on the Chief Constable, 'a lot of these houses take occasional boarders.'
'Better circulate them all.'
'Some of them wouldn't take much notice of a police request. Houses of call, you know. Quick ten minutes and the door always open.'
'Nonsense,' the Chief Constable said, 'we don't have that kind of place in Nottwich.'
'If you wouldn't mind my suggesting it, sir, it wouldn't be a bad thing to double the constables on any beats of that kind. Send the sharpest men you've got. I suppose you've had his description in the evening papers? He seems to be a pretty smart safebreaker.'
'There doesn't seem to be much more we can do tonight,' the superintendent said. 'I'm sorry for the poor devil if he's found nowhere to sleep.'
'Keep a bottle of whisky here, super?' the Chief Constable asked. 'Do us all good to 'ave a drink. Had too much beer. It returns. Whisky's better, but the wife doesn't like the smell.' He leant back in his chair with his fat thighs crossed and watched the inspector with a kind of child-like happiness; he seemed to be saying, what a spree this is, drinking again with the boys. Only the superintendent knew what an old devil he was with anyone weaker than himself. 'Just a splash, super.' He said over his glass, 'You caught that old bastard Baines out nicely,' and explained to Mather. 'Street betting. He's been a worry for months.'
'He was straight enough. I don't believe in harrying people. Just because he was taking money out of Macpherson's pocket.'
'Ah,' the Chief Constable said, 'but that's legal. Macpherson's got an office and a telephone. He's got expenses to carry. Cheerio, boys. To the ladies.' He drained his glass. 'Just another two fingers, super.' He blew out his chest. 'What about some more coal on the fire? Let's be snug. There's no work we can do tonight.'
Mather was uneasy. It was quite true there wasn't much one could do, but he hated inaction. He stayed by the map. It wasn't such a large place, Nottwich. They ought not to take long to find Raven, but here he was a stranger. He didn't know what dives to raid, what clubs and dance halls. He said, 'We think he's followed someone here. I'd suggest, sir, that first thing in the morning we interview the ticket collector again. See how many local people he can remember leaving the train. We might be lucky.'
'Do you know that story about the Archbishop of York?' the Chief Constable asked. 'Yes, yes. We'll do that. But there's no hurry. Make yourself at 'ome, man, and take some Scotch. You're in the Midlands now. The slow Midlands (eh, super?). We don't 'ustle, but we get there just the same.'
Of course, he was right. There was no hurry, and there wasn't anything anyone could do at this hour, but as Mather stood beside the map, it was just as if someone were calling him, 'Hurry. Hurry. Hurry. Or you may be too late. ' He traced the main streets with his finger; he wanted to be as familiar with them as he was with central London. Here was the G. P. O., the market, the Metropole, the High Street; what was this? the Tanneries. 'What's this big block in the Tanneries, sir?' he asked.
'That'll be Midland Steel,' the superintendent said and turning to the Chief Constable he went on patiently, 'No, sir. I hadn't heard that one. That's a good one, sir.'
'The mayor told me that,' the Chief Constable said. 'He's a sport, old Piker. Do you know what he said when we had that committee on the gas practice? He said, 'This'll give us a chance to get into a strange bed.' He meant the women couldn't tell who was who in a gas mask. You see?'
'Very witty man, Mr Piker, sir.'
'Yes, super, but I was too smart for him there. I was on the spot that day. Do you know what I said?'
'No, sir.'
'I said, "You won't be able to find a strange bed, Piker." Catch me meaning? He's a dog, old Piker.'
'What are your arrangements for the gas practice, sir?' Mather asked with his finger jabbed on the Town Hall.
'You can't expect people to buy gas masks at twenty-five bob a time, but we're having a raid the day after tomorrow with smoke bombs from Hanlow aerodrome, and anyone found in the street without a mask will be carted off by ambulance to the General Hospital. So anyone who's too busy to stop indoors will have to buy a mask. Midland Steel are supplying all their people with masks, so it'll be business as usual there.'
'Kind of blackmail,' the superintendent said.' Stay in or buy a mask. The transport companies have spent a pretty penny on masks.'
'What hours, sir?'
'We don't tell them that. Sirens hoot. You know the idea. Boy Scouts on bicycles. They've been lent masks. But of course we know it'll be all over before noon.'
Mather looked back at the map. 'These coal yards,' he said, 'round the station. You've got them well covered?'
'We are keeping an eye on those,' the superintendent said. 'I saw to that as soon as the Yard rang through.'