CHAPTER 13
“Glad you could make it, sir.” Orford put his head round the door and nodded at everyone. “Evenin’ all! Deceased found under the boat. You were right about that! We’d been keeping it under surveillance for hours before we cottoned on! Body was there all the time. A long time judging by the odour.” He turned to Joe. “It’s taken us a while to tidy it up a bit, sir. It’s still not suitable for a lady to have sight of. I don’t think she needs to take a look.”
“I’m sure it’s highly unsuitable for any of us but the lady must make her own decision: to see or not to see. She’s heard your warning, Inspector.”
They all trooped back into the laboratory. The strong smell of disinfectant did not go far towards eradicating the smell of decay rising from the second sheeted figure they’d seen that evening. Rippon stood by the slab divested of most of his evening wear and with his traditional white pinny covering him from neck to ankle. “The inspector has cleared out the pockets and put the contents over there for you to view. I’ve left the clothes in place. They may help with an identification. Orford has some ideas on that.”
He pulled back the sheet to reveal the hairy features of a bearded man of uncertain age. The parts of his face visible were livid in death but with an overlay of dark tan from exposure to the elements. His head was twisted at an odd angle, his eyes open and widened in surprise. He wore a gold earring in his left lobe and Joe could just make out the square collar of a naval shirt.
“Broken neck,” said Armitage.
“Would be my first guess but, of course, I have to say—wait for the results,” commented Rippon obligingly.
“Nothing in the mouth, I suppose?” Joe asked.
“Not even teeth,” said Rippon. “I took a look.”
“We haven’t got a name yet but I’ve spoken to the lads on the beat and they confirm it’s the man they’ve seen sleeping under the boat these last three weeks,” Orford offered.
“Sailor?” Joe suggested.
“They think so. Might be a bloke who’s jumped ship. Recently. In a hurry. He’s still wearing his navy gear. The Admiralty would know but it’s the weekend. We’ll give it a try but they’ll all be off at some shindig. Henley? Cowes? Water Rat’s Picnic? Always something on in June. There’s a quicker way. The Thames River Officer you handed me—sharp lad—thinks he can ask the right questions in the right places and come up with an ID before breakfast,” said Orford. “Rough sleeper? Runaway? Beggar? All of those probably. We deal with dozens like him every day.”
“You won’t have had the time—or the light—to make much of a search, Orford, but—anything unusual about the boat? The environs?”
“Sorry, sir. All washed clean or stirred up by the dowsers and the beat bobbies who were first at the scene previous. Nothing much on the body either. No belongings to speak of—he was a real destitute. Just what he stood up in, a blanket and the things in his pockets.”
“Ah, yes, let’s take a look at those. Half a ham sandwich in a bag. Phew! Threepence halfpenny. A chewed stick of liquorice root … now how’d he manage that with no teeth? A dog-eared copy of Paper Doll.”
“The pocket-sized magazine for pocket-sized minds, my Ma reckons.” Orford commented dismissively.
“Well, at least it’s not Shakespeare,” Joe said. “We’re all thankful for that! And it shows we’re looking at someone who could read and write at least. There are some stimulating articles by up-and-coming writers in there, I’m told. And what’s this? Chalk?”
Orford picked up the white chunk. “Chalk. That’s right. It’s the stub end of one of those squares they use on the ends of snooker cues.” He looked at it more closely. “It’s a bit worn on one of its corners. Been written with? You don’t do that in snooker. They don’t use them for writing. Anyone got a magnifying glass?… Thanks, doc. There’s a piece of something … a splinter of wood embedded. Black wood.” He looked at Joe. “His boat’s black. You know—tarred—but a long while ago.”
Joe smiled. “I’m thinking what you’re thinking, Inspector. Beggars and gypsies, men on the move, often write warning messages for each other in code. On gateposts and the like. You know: ‘Vicious dog at large … Soft touch here—good for a bob …’ Perhaps he thought to scribble a name for the postman? Could save us some time. Got a heavy-duty torch? Run it over that hulk, will you? Before it starts to rain.”
A calmer Kingstone had been drinking in all the information and speculation that flowed back and forth over the marble slab. Joe saw a man whose initial relief that the body was not that of his lover was stifled by genuine concern. “Poor fellow!” he said. “Are you thinking, as I am, that he saw something he was never intended to see—like a foreshore burial? And was eliminated? Another pawn sacrificed with complete disregard for human life?”
“That’s a professional neck break,” said Armitage. “Army style. No other sign of injury. Quick, clean and deadly. Not as easy as it looks. Yup! Trained killer, I’d say.”
Joe’s thought was: Takes one to know one? His next move was going to be tricky and involved clearing the sergeant away from his scene of operation. Julia sighed a ragged sigh and he suddenly saw his way through.
“Julia! I’m so sorry! I forget my manners.” His voice was full of urgent apology. “Why don’t you go back into the study while I dish out a few orders? No need for you, in the circumstances, to stay here suffering all this discomfort. We won’t keep you long.”
When she had hurried out, smiling her relief, Joe turned to Armitage, drew him aside and spoke to him quietly. “That girl’s on her uppers—emotionally speaking—wouldn’t you say? Poor lass, she’s had quite a day one way or another. Look, Bill, why don’t we split our forces and use them to better advantage? I’ll take Kingstone under my wing for a bit. You grab a cab and take Julia back to the hotel where you can keep an eye on her. Order up a sandwich or something—we never did get our Dover sole. And I know where you can find a bottle of champagne going begging. Might as well make the most of it and—who knows?—perhaps she’ll fall for your rugged charms and confide all? But, Bill—the spider’s still out there. And Julia is the weakest of us. I don’t want her caught up in the web. Take care of her.”
“It’s the senator’s back I’m paid to watch,” Armitage said, though with less truculence than Joe had anticipated.
“Same here,” said Joe with a placatory smile. “Broad back but too much weight on it. And possibly too many watching it. Some through gun-sights. I fear he’s not exaggerating when he says he’s expendable.” He turned to address everyone. “There’s a document I want the senator to see in my office—an identification I think he can make. I can bundle him out of the labs straight into Scotland Yard without venturing out of the building and when we’ve done I can pop him into a flying squad car with a police helmet on his head, an armed officer riding shotgun, and deliver him to the hotel by midnight. If anyone’s lurking out there they won’t even get a sight of him.”
“Sounds exciting,” drawled the senator. “What are you offering me? A starring part in the Kingstone Kops? How do you check out on that, doctor? Can my heart stand it?”
“Your heart and every other bit of you is safe with Sandilands,” said Rippon stoutly.
“THAT RIPPON IS an asshole!” Kingstone yelled as Joe’s old Morris squealed round a corner on two wheels. “He guaranteed I’d be safe with you. That’s the third brush with death I’ve had since you took the wheel of this contraption and we’re not even out of London yet. Are you sure you’re not working for the other side? When I mentioned a car accident I was only joking!”
Snorting with irritation, Joe pulled to the side of the road and got out, leaving the engine running. “You drive then,” he said. “I’m not the best driver in the world. I don’t actually care for cars very much. Better with horses. But if you’re going to complain every inch of the way …” He despised the tone of petulance that crept in but he’d learned that this was the best way to reduce his passengers to silence. They invariably apologised and bit their lips or shut their eyes for what remained of the journey. To Joe’s amusement, Kingstone got out, sauntered around the car, shouldered him aside and put a proprietorial foot on the running board.