Devices & Desires

'Didn't know, did I? All I was told by Harry Upjohn was that the Whistler had been found and that he was dead. I dare say the police kept it quiet, where exactly he was found I mean. You wouldn't want a lot of morbid sightseers round the place. Nor would the hotel manager, come to that.'

'And early this morning you rang round again to say that Miss Robarts had been murdered. How did you discover that?'

'Saw the police cars passing, didn't I? So I got on my bike and went up to the gate. Your chaps had left it open so I shut it again and waited. When they came back I opened the gate for them and asked what was up.'

Rickards said: 'You seem to have an extraordinary talent for extracting information from the police.'

'Well, I know some of them, don't I? The local chaps, anyway. They drink in the Hero. The driver of the first car through wouldn't say anything. Nor would the driver of the mortuary van. But when the third car came through and stopped while I opened and shut the gate again I asked who was dead and they told me. I mean, I know a mortuary van when I see one.'

'Who exactly told you?' asked Oliphant belligerently. George Jago turned on him his bright and innocent comedian's gaze.

'Couldn't say, could I? One policeman is much like another. Someone told me.'

'So you rang round early this morning? Why then? Why wait?'

'Because it was after midnight by then. Folk like a bit of news but they like their sleep more. But I rang Ryan Blaney first thing today.'

'Why him?'

'Why not? When you've got news it's human nature to pass it on to an interested party.'

Oliphant said: 'And he was certainly an interested party. Must have come as something of a relief.'

'Might have done, might not. I didn't speak to him. I told Theresa.'

Oliphant said: 'So you didn't speak to Mr Blaney either when you rang on Sunday or this morning. Bit odd wasn't it?'

'Depends how you look at it. The first time he was in his painting shed. He doesn't like being called to the phone when he's working. No point, anyway. I told Theresa and she told him.'

Rickards said: 'How do you know she told him?'

'Because she said so when I rang this morning. Why shouldn't she tell him?'

'But you can't know for certain that she did?'

Mrs Jago said suddenly: 'And you can't know for certain that she didn't. What does it matter, anyway? He knows now. We all do. We know about the Whistler and we know about Miss Robarts. And maybe if you'd caught the Whistler a year ago Miss Robarts would still be alive.'

Oliphant asked quickly: 'What do you mean by that, Mrs Jago?'

'What they call a copycat murder, isn't it? That's the talk in the village, anyway, apart from those who still think the Whistler did it and you've got your times all wrong. And old Humphrey, of course, who thinks it was the Whistler's ghost still on the job.'

Rickards said: 'We're interested in a portrait of Miss Robarts which was painted recently by Mr Blaney. Have either of you seen it? Did he talk about it?'

Mrs Jago said: 'Of course we've seen it. Had it hanging in the bar, didn't we? And I knew that it would bring bad luck. It was an evil picture if ever I saw one.'

Jago turned to his wife and explained with patient emphasis: 'I don't see how you can say a picture is evil, Doris, not a picture. Things can't be evil. An inanimate object is neither good nor evil. Evil is what is done by people.'

'And what is thought by people, George, and that picture came out of evil thoughts, so I say that picture was evil.'

She spoke firmly but with no trace of obstinacy or resentment. Obviously this was the kind of marital argument, conducted without acrimony, and with scrupulous fairness, which they both relished. For a few minutes their attention was solely on each other.

Jago went on: 'Granted it wasn't the kind of picture you'd want to hang on your sitting-room wall.'

'Or in the bar, come to that. Pity you ever did, George.'

'Right enough. Still I reckon it didn't give anyone any ideas they didn't have already. And you can't say that it was evil, not a picture, Doris.'

'AH right, suppose you get an instrument of torture, something used by the Gestapo.' Mrs Jago looked round the bar as if among its clutter she might reasonably expect to find an example. 'I'd say that thing was evil. I wouldn't give it house room.'

'You could say it was used for an evil purpose, Doris, that's different.'

Rickards asked: 'Why exactly did you hang the portrait in the bar?'

'Because he asked me, that's why. I usually find room for one or two of his small watercolours and sometimes he sells them and sometimes not. I always tell him they've got to be seascapes. I mean, it's all the Admiral here, isn't it, it's all nautical. But he was dead keen on having this up and I said I'd keep it for a week. He brought it down on his bike on Monday the twelfth.'

'In the hope of selling it?'

'Oh, it wasn't for sale, not that picture wasn't. He made that very plain.'

Oliphant said: 'So what was the point of putting it up?'

'That's what I said.' Jago turned triumphantly to the sergeant as if recognizing a fellow expert in logic. '"What's the point in putting it up if you don't want to sell it?" I said. "Let them look at it," he said. "I want them to see it.

I want the whole world to see it." A bit optimistic, I thought. After all, we're not the National Gallery.'

'More like the National Maritime Museum really,' said Doris surprisingly and beamed at them happily.

'Where did you find room for it?'

'On that wall opposite the door. Took down the two pictures of the Battle of the Nile, didn't I?'

'And how many people did see it in those seven days?'

'You're asking me how many customers I had. I mean, if they came in they saw it. Couldn't hardly miss it, could they? Doris wanted to take it down but I promised I'd keep it up until the Monday, so I did. Glad when he came and took it away, though. Like I said, it's all commemorative here. It's all the Admiral. It didn't seem to go with the decor. It wasn't here long. He said he'd call for it on the morning of the nineteenth and he did.'

'Did anyone from the headland or the power station see it?'

'Those who came in. The Local Hero isn't really their regular local. Most of them want to get away from the place at the end of the day and who's to blame them? I mean, living over the shop is all right, but not that shop.'

'Was there much talk about it? Did anyone ask where he kept it, for example?'

'Not to me. I reckon most of them knew where he kept it. I mean, he talked a bit about his painting shed. And if he had wanted to sell, he wouldn't have got any offers. I'll tell you someone who did see it, though. Hilary Robarts.'

'When was this?'

'The evening after he brought it in, about seven o'clock. She used to come in here from time to time. Never drank much, just a couple of dry sherries. Took them over to the seat by the fire.'

'Alone?'

'Usually she was. Once or twice she had Dr Mair with her. But she was alone that Tuesday.'

'What did she do when she saw the picture?'

'Stood and looked at it. The pub was pretty full at the time and everyone fell silent. You know how it is. They were all watching. I couldn't see her face because her back was to me. Then she walked over to the bar and said: "I've changed my mind about drinking here. Obviously you don't welcome customers from Larksoken." Then she went out. Well, I welcome customers from anywhere if they can hold their drink and don't ask for credit, but I didn't reckon she'd be much loss.'

'So she wasn't particularly popular on the headland?'

'I don't know about the headland. She wasn't particularly popular in this pub.'

Doris Jago said: 'Scheming she was to turn the Blaneys out of Scudder's Cottage. And him a widower trying to bring up four kids. Where did she think he was going to go? He gets family allowance and other bits of welfare help but that isn't going to find him another cottage. But I'm sorry she's dead, of course. I mean you have to be, don't you? It's not a nice thing to happen to anybody. We'll be sending a wreath from the Local Hero.'