A pinch of snuff

'Perhaps you have now,' said Ellie.

They ate their duck in silence for a while. The skin cracked between the teeth and was sharply flavoured. The rich meat slid and crumbled and dissolved against the tongue.

'What does fat Andy think?' asked Ellie.

'Thumbs down. I think he's building up to claiming foresight. Last week when I told him what Shorter said about that film, his only reaction was that people like dentists and doctors shouldn't react to erotic stimuli. Since then Shorter's been accused of assaulting a minor and his film theory's turned out to be a load of cock. Dalziel reckons he was just trying to pave the way for the revelation he knew must come.'

'That's a bit far-fetched.'

'So I said. Dalziel says that under stress, everyone can behave in an extraordinary fashion. The courts seem to support him.'

'Still… more wine?'

'I'll leave a mouthful to wash down the cheese. There is some cheese?'

'Stilton. After my green fig flan.'

'Oh Jesus.'

The figs were rich and sticky and sweet as decay; the Stilton pungent and creamy.

'Now, a large brandy and fifteen minutes' rest.'

'Fifteen minutes? I'll need a day.'

He held out for ten.

'Peter,' said Ellie some time between 10 p.m. and 6 a.m.

'Yes?'

'How'd you find out that Shorter's theory was a load of cock?'

'On Friday. I told you.'

'We haven't exchanged more than ten polite words since last Thursday, remember?'

'We've exchanged more than that tonight.'

'I know it. So, what happened on Friday?'

'I saw the girl,' said Pascoe. 'The woman in the film. Linda Abbott. Nice woman. Unmarked face. All her own teeth.'

'Lucky old thing. You saw the woman who played the kidnapped wife?'

'That's what I said.'

'And you just saw one woman?'

'Yes. Why? There only was one.'

'Oh Peter,' said Ellie, laughing. 'God, you men! One tit's just like another!'

'What,' said Pascoe, growing more and more awake, 'are you talking about?'

'I saw that film on Friday night, remember?' said Ellie. 'Believe me, the actress who got banged on the chin and the actress who played the blushing bride at the beginning and end of the film were two completely different people!'

Dalziel was offensively unimpressed.

'Suppose she's right, so what?'

'So I haven't proved that Shorter was wrong.'

'So what, again?'

'So there's still a chance that he was right and, if that's so, your notion that he made it all up as part of a subtle ingratiation plan falls a bit flat.'

'Why?' said Dalziel, scratching the folds of skin on his neck. 'Let's imagine, because it's only public money we're wasting by sitting here imagining things, let's imagine your Ellie is right. Further, let's imagine that Shorter is genuinely convinced something nasty really did happen in that scene. What's it all amount to? When he wanted an excuse to get chatting to you, he didn't have to make anything up, that's all. Except perhaps his deep concern. Am I right?'

Distasteful though it was to have to bow to ratiocinative powers wielded like a shillelagh, Pascoe had to admit he was right.

'Now, listen to this,' said Dalziel. 'I saw Sandra Burkill yesterday afternoon. She'd already made a statement to a WPC so she was quite happy to talk. She'd got the difficult bit over, actually giving the details.'

'And what were the details?'

'Well, a couple of months ago the girl started a course of treatment. Her teeth were in a bad way and she needed a lot of fillings plus a bit of straightening-out work. She said she didn't mind too much as it got her out of school. First time there, her mother went with her, but after that she went alone except sometimes she was accompanied by a friend, Marilyn Brewer.

'The assaults started on her third visit. While drilling a tooth, Shorter pressed very close against her and she realized that his penis was erect.'

'She said that?' asked Pascoe.

'Of course not. She said she could feel something hard.'

'But she didn't know what?'

Dalziel glared at him in exasperation.

'Of course she bloody well knew what. She's thirteen, living in the 1970s, where they draw diagrams and show films about it in the junior schools. For God's sake, there was none of that when I was thirteen, but I tell you, the lassies around then would have known what, too!'

'I'm convinced,' said Pascoe. 'Go on.'

Dalziel unfolded the rest of the story succinctly. The girl hadn't been too distressed. Shorter was fairly 'dishy' and she'd boasted about it as a conquest to her friend, Marilyn. Each successive visit had seen an advancement of the intimacy, and eventually the pretence of the accidental touch had been discarded.

'So the girl is saying she was a willing partner?' said Pascoe.

'At twelve? With a dentist? In law there's no such thing and you bloody know it,' answered Dalziel. 'Any road, that's not the end of it.'

The end of it had been full sexual intercourse, in the surgery, with the girl (according to her version) now feeling too involved and too frightened to resist.

Now Pascoe was incredulous.

'In the surgery?' he demanded. 'You must be joking. What the hell was Alison – the nurse – doing all this time?'

'According to Sandra, she had been sent off early to lunch so that she could pick up some X-ray prints Shorter said he must have for afternoon surgery.'

'And according to Alison?'

'According to Alison, dear Mr Shorter couldn't possibly do anybody any wrong and at the first hint of close questioning she burst into tears.'

'Who was asking the questions?'

'Inspector Trumper. Last night I went round to see Shorter.'

'And?'

'He's suffered a relapse since getting home, his wife told me. Their doctor had been and the poor chap was in bed, heavily sedated, unable to talk to anyone.'

‘I don't blame him. Look, sir, you saw him yesterday after the attack. Can you really imagine Shorter laying the girl on his surgery couch in the middle of the day, even if the nurse was out of the way? Anybody could walk in – MacCrystal; Ms Lacewing; the receptionist; even a lost patient!'

'Perhaps. Last of the morning, though. Everyone going off to lunch. MacCrystal's in the Conservative Club bar at twelve sharp most days. It all adds up.'

'There's little enough to add,' said Pascoe sceptically. 'I hate these cases. You get an unsupported allegation and it all comes down to guesswork and prejudice in the end.'

'Not quite unsupported,' said Dalziel in the diffident tone which Pascoe knew usually heralded triumph.

'What?'

'The girl Marilyn. She was Sandra's confidante – is that right? There's no fun in anything for a woman unless she can tell someone else about it. Well, Marilyn's had a blow-by-blow account. Just hearsay, but it is supportive. Also when I talked with her last night, she said that on one of the early visits, she was actually in the surgery when Shorter was working on Sandra and noticed him pressing his crutch up against her. After that, she says, Shorter asked her to stay in the waiting-room.'

He paused. Pascoe knew he wasn't finished but refused to prompt.

'The quack took a look at Sandra last night. She's not a virgin.'

'It can easily happen,' said Pascoe. 'All kinds of ways. Any doctor'll tell you.'

'Mebbe,' said Dalziel triumphantly. 'But there's not many will say that cycling over cobbles can get you pregnant too!'

He looked at Pascoe challengingly. When there was no reply, he continued.

'Her last period should have started a fortnight on Monday, that is yesterday. She saw Shorter at the beginning of last week, Tuesday morning I think it was, and told him she was late. He told her not to worry, it often happened. She was to come back this week and tell him how things were. But things didn't work out.'