'Cox's. It's a Great Dane built like a horse. It's called Hammy. It was the dog as found the old chap, evidently.'
'Hammy? A great Dane? Perhaps by the same token Polly is short for Polonius!'
The attempt at a joke seemed as far beyond Seymour as doubtless time, interests and circumstances had placed it beyond Parrinder. With a verbal pat on the shoulder for a job well done, Pascoe dismissed him and rededicated all his attention to the killer of Robert Deeks.
It was dedication singularly unrewarded and when he finally headed for home at nine P.M. all he had to show for a long hard day was a headache and a touch of nervous dyspepsia. From time to time during the day he had found himself looking forward to getting back to a warm, well-lit house with the prospect of supper and a stiff drink and Ellie's tension-dissolving acidity on the subject of police investigations and Rose's round apple-cheeked face, faintly puzzled in repose, as though she had fallen asleep pondering the purpose of existence. Then he would recall that Ellie and Rose were down at Orburn visiting her parents.
Even with the background central heating, the house felt chill and unwelcoming. He put a frozen casserole in the oven, poured himself a Scotch and went to the telephone.
'Hello, love. I hoped it would be you,' said Ellie.
'That's flattering.'
'Yes, I wanted cheering up,' she went on, unconsciously pre-empting his own need. 'I'm really worried about Dad, Peter. He's looking very frail and he's getting so vague, repeating conversations he had with you half an hour ago, that sort of thing. And sometimes he thinks Rose is me!'
'Well, he is knocking on a bit,' said Pascoe. 'And we can all repeat ourselves. I do it all the time! What's your mother say to all this?'
'Oh, you know Mum. She likes to kid herself everything's just as it's always been. She must know something's wrong, but she just hopes it'll go away.'
Pascoe smiled. The mild-mannered, sweet-natured Mrs Soper was as unlike her daughter as could be and their relationship was based on exasperated affection bred of mutual incomprehension.
'Has he been to the doctor?' asked Pascoe.
'Only incidentally, to renew his old prescription. Mum says she mentioned his vagueness to the doc, but all he could say was it was old age and not to worry!'
Ellie sounded very angry and to Pascoe's concern for her and for his parents-in-law was suddenly and irresistibly added a pang of purely selfish dismay as he foretasted what was coming next.
'Peter, I think I really ought to stay on till Monday and see the doctor myself. In fact I rang him up this afternoon when Mum was out of the way – you know what she’s like about bothering doctors at weekends; the great gods will be angry if disturbed! – but all I got was some other idiot who was on call and not feeling very helpful. Well, I suppose you can't blame him…'
'But you did anyway!' said Pascoe, laughing.
'Only slightly,' said Ellie with a responsive lightening of tone which was good to hear. 'Anyway, I'm afraid it's another night in a cold empty bed for you. At least I hope it's cold and empty.'
'I don't know. I haven't looked yet,' said Pascoe. 'Ellie, what about college?'
Ellie lectured in what was now called an Institute of Higher Education. This incorporated the remnants of the college where Pascoe had re-met his former university friend during an investigation some years earlier. The college had started as a tiny teachers' training establishment in the 'fifties, blossomed in size and variety of course during the expansive 'sixties and early 'seventies, then been hit by the decline of both economy and birthrate during the later 'seventies and early 'eighties. Now the delightful rural site had been abandoned, the high-flying academic courses phased out, and the remnants of staff and students sucked into this resoundingly named but hollow centred institute based on the former technical college in the city centre. Clogs to barefoot in one generation was how the cynics described it. Ellie had returned there after maternity leave in September and was far from happy with conditions, courses and many of her colleagues. To be made redundant with a moderate settlement would have been easy and she was certainly tempted. But, as she had put it to Pascoe, 'The bastards are so obviously keen to be shot of me that I may just stay on for ever!'
Now she said dismissively, 'I've got nothing important till the afternoon and I'll have to cancel that. Peter, I think this has made up my mind about college for me.
Suddenly it all seems so inconsequential. I'm neither valued nor valuable there. I think I'll tell them to stuff it. After all, a wife's place is in the home, isn't it?'
'Good lord!' exclaimed Pascoe. 'You've been seeing Andy Dalziel behind my back, haven't you!'
They talked a little longer. Ellie asked after Pascoe's day and he replied noncommittally, even though he suspected she would regard his decision not to off-load his own depression at this juncture as typical masculine egotistic role-playing.
Still, even without the relief and even with the addition of Ellie's depressive news about her father's condition and her delayed return, he derived much ease of spirit simply from talking to her.
It didn't last long. The phone rang again as he replaced it.
It was Sammy Ruddlesdin. Having avoided him by design at lunch-time, Pascoe had managed to avoid him more or less by accident for the rest of the day.
'Inspector Pascoe!' he said. 'You know, I never thought of trying to get you at home before this. Perhaps I should have started here!'
'I'm just back, and I'm just about worn out,' said Pascoe. 'So make it quick. I doubt if there's anything I can add about the Deeks case to what's appeared in your evening edition, except perhaps balance.'
This was sharper than he'd intended after the DCC's admonitions, but he did have strong feelings about being pestered in his own home, even though tonight it felt more unhomelike than he'd ever known.
'Thanks, but it's not Deeks; well, not primarily,' said Ruddlesdin. 'In fact, it's hardly a professional matter at all. More personal curiosity, that's all. I believe you and Inspector Headingley went along to The Towers and spoke with Mrs Warsop today?'
'Look,' said Pascoe. 'I really can't say anything about that. I just drove George Headingley there, that's all.'
'But you were present during the interview?'
'Sammy, if you care to come and see me in the morning, before or after church, as you will, I'll be glad to talk about the Deeks murder investigation. Shall we say ten o'clock?'
'Hold on just a moment, please,' pleaded Ruddlesdin. 'All I wanted to learn from you is the magic words.'
'Sorry?'
'The magic words that you or George Headingley used to change Mrs Warsop's mind. The close sesame! In other words, why is it that last night when I spoke to her she was adamant that she'd seen Mr Dalziel driving away from Paradise Hall, and yet by this evening when I spoke to her again, she was suddenly doubtful. The weather was foul, the visibility poor, the distance great, and perhaps after all it wasn't Dalziel who got into the driving seat. Now why should this be, Mr Pascoe? As a humble seeker after knowledge, I should really like to know why!'
Chapter 14
'Let not poor Nelly starve.'
Determined that any further hints of delay should be dealt with at source, Pascoe himself called on Dolly Frostick to take her to her father's house on Sunday morning.
'We've got a car. I'd have fetched her,' protested her husband as though his virility had been slighted.
'It's in the public service, why should you pay for the petrol?' said Pascoe expansively.
He would have preferred Mrs Frostick by herself but there was no way of barring her husband from getting in beside her.
At the house, he escorted the woman quickly through the living-room, kitchen and bedroom, to get her adjusted to the evidence of ransacking. Not that it was bad; there'd been no deliberate vandalization; but the police examination for traces of the intruder hadn't exactly improved matters and he knew from experience how distressing these moments could be. Dolly Frostick went pale and very quiet but seemed to be holding together well enough.