‘So ask your questions, screw,’ he said. ‘Something hanging you up, is there?’
Gently smiled, shook his head. ‘I know the answers,’ he said. ‘Screws don’t ask questions when they know the answers.’
‘He’s being smart,’ Hallman said. ‘He makes you sick, he’s so smart, Sid.’
‘Like that, is it?’ Bixley said. ‘He comes out here to be smart, does he?’
‘Yuh, smart,’ Hallman said.
‘He comes to the right place,’ Bixley said. ‘We’ve got a way with smart screws. They get to wondering how smart they are.’
He came back stiff-legged to the table, stood right beside Gently.
‘Let’s hear those answers, screw,’ he said. ‘Could be they don’t quite fit the questions.’
‘Are you worried about it?’ Gently asked.
‘Like do as I say,’ Bixley said. ‘You’re a long way from the screw-shop, and nobody’s going to ring it for you.’
‘You’d better sit down,’ Gently said.
‘Like there isn’t a chair,’ Bixley said.
‘You can pull one up from the next table.’
‘Like there isn’t room,’ Bixley said.
Gently shrugged. ‘Well, what do you want to know?’
‘Just the answers,’ Bixley said. ‘Like where you think Alfie’s been since lunchtime, and where I’ve been. That’s all, screw.’
Gently puffed. ‘Alfie’s been out riding with you,’ he said. ‘You picked him up after lunch, said it was a nice day for a ride. Then you rode off towards Norwich or made a detour in that direction. And now you’ve just come back and you’ve dropped in here for a milkshake.’
‘Crazy, isn’t he?’ Bixley said. ‘I wonder how he knew all that?’
‘Have I got it right?’ Gently asked.
‘Yeah,’ Bixley said. ‘Somebody told you.’
‘Here’s some more,’ Gently said. ‘Alfie was thrilled to have you ask him. He hasn’t had a bike for long. He doesn’t ride as well as you, Sid.’
‘Didn’t I say he was wild?’ Bixley inquired. ‘This is the wildest screw ever. How long have you had that bike, Alfie?’
‘Like two and a half months,’ Alfie said.
‘And how do you ride it?’ Bixley asked.
‘I get along,’ Alfie said.
‘But not like me?’ Bixley said.
‘Not like you,’ Alfie admitted. ‘You’re the mostest on a bike, Sid. Don’t reckon I’ll ever ride like you.’
Bixley stooped, advanced his face towards Gently’s. ‘You notice how right you’re being, screw?’ he said. ‘You’ve got the answers, so like you’d better stay with them. Then you’ll really be smart. For a screw.’
‘I hadn’t finished,’ Gently said.
‘Don’t come it clever, screw,’ said Bixley.
‘There’s this morning, too,’ Gently said. ‘I could guess a little bit about that.’
‘I’m warning you, screw,’ Bixley said.
Gently puffed over his head. ‘You were out riding this morning, Sid,’ he said. ‘You’ve done a lot of riding today.’
Bixley came right close to him. ‘Keep going, screw,’ he said. ‘But just remember how handsome you look when you’re healthy. Remember that.’
‘I’ll remember,’ Gently said, ‘and thanks for the compliment, Sid. You went out riding the heath roads this morning and I doubt whether you met a single soul.’
Bixley relaxed. ‘You’re the most,’ he said.
‘Right again?’ Gently asked.
‘You should be on TV, screw,’ Bixley said. ‘The way you know answers is real comic.’
‘I’ve heard so many,’ Gently said. ‘The trouble is they’re not true. Now Elton’s story sounded true. I wonder why there’s such a difference?’
He was on his feet and the chair kicked away from him before Bixley’s fist began to traveclass="underline" the fist missed by six inches and Bixley was clubbed down with a right. Hallman swung a blow that connected but then somehow he dived into the floor. The others were struggling up from the table when the table heaved forward and sent them in a tangle. Alfie decided to keep out of things. Tony had vanished behind his counter.
‘Get that bastard!’ Bixley was shouting, spitting blood from a cut mouth. ‘Don’t let him get away. We’re going to do the bleeder now!’
He wobbled furiously to his feet, but he was obviously shaken by the blow he’d got. The others didn’t seem keen to second him. They were sorting themselves out from the furniture discretely. Gently stood calmly, back to the wall. His pipe was still between his teeth.
‘You think too slowly, Sid,’ he said.
‘You bastard, I’ll get you for this!’ Bixley spat.
‘Perhaps you’re short of chocolates,’ Gently said.
Bixley swore, but with little conviction.
Tony rose tremblingly from behind the counter. ‘P-please,’ he stuttered, ‘p-pleasa, p-pleasa!’
‘You’re all right, Tony,’ Gently said. ‘Give Sid some water to wash his mouth out.’
‘Like what’s going on here?’ inquired a voice from the door. Deeming stood there. He looked immense in his crash helmet.
‘Hullo, Dicky,’ Gently said. ‘I had to quieten them before you got here.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
Deeming wasn’t looking pleased. His eyes went frostily to Bixley. There was a sudden silence in the cafe. Nobody seemed inclined to break it. Jack Salmon was still on the floor and he remained where he was. Jeff Cook was picking up a chair. He let the chair stop in his hand. The rest went similarly still. Only Tony was hugging and wringing himself. The sound of a passing car came precisely. One could also hear Bixley’s heavy breathing.
‘I thought,’ Deeming said tightly, ‘I told you to keep it down with the screws. Like flipping the lid was square action. Like jeebies ought to be above it.’
Nobody said anything. Bixley dribbled a spittle of blood on the floor. Deeming came slowly out of the doorway, took a stand before Bixley.
‘So what’s it about, Sid?’ he said. ‘You seem to have been in amongst it. How come you got that poke in the mouth and like there’s been a landslide in the neighbourhood?’
‘He was needling me again,’ Bixley jerked. ‘Like I can’t stand that screw needling me.’
‘Yuh, he was needling him,’ Hallman said. ‘That’s how it was, ain’t it, blokes?’
‘Yuh, he was needling him,’ several of them repeated. ‘That’s how it was. He was needling Sid.’
‘So then all you cool cats flip your lids?’
‘Like I couldn’t help it,’ Bixley said. ‘He jabbed me rotten. He was being smart. Like he was trying to make me poke him.’
‘And like he succeeded,’ said Deeming scathingly, ‘if the blood you’re spitting is anything to go by. I thought I could depend on you, Sid. I thought I’d talked some cool sense into you.’
‘Yuh, but there’s a limit,’ Bixley said.
‘A limit like yours,’ said Deeming, ‘is dangerous.’
‘I tell you I wasn’t going to poke him,’ Bixley said. ‘Just lean on him some. I was trying to lean on him.’
‘And like he leaned back.’
‘Yuh,’ Bixley snarled. ‘Like he did. And I took a poke.’
‘Did you think he was a pushover?’ Deeming said. ‘Did you think you could lean on him and he wouldn’t lean back?’ He swung round from Bixley, turned to Gently. ‘So what’s the score, screw?’ he said. ‘Are you hanging Sid up on the grounds he’s taken a poke at you?’
Gently shook his head slowly. ‘It wouldn’t be worth it, would it?’ he said.
‘You dig him?’ Bixley snapped out. ‘It’s all needle, needle, needle.’
‘Like,’ Deeming said sharply, ‘you’ll let me handle this, Sid. This screw isn’t so square as a lot of screws you’ll meet.’
‘Thank you, Dicky,’ Gently said.
‘I could pan him,’ Bixley said.
‘But what you will do,’ Deeming said, ‘is to pick up Tony’s chairs and table.’
There was a scramble to pick them up. Bixley didn’t join in it. He grabbed a chair, flopped on it heavily, sat licking at his lip and eyeing Gently. Deeming singled out Hallman to collect the broken plates and glasses. He gave the pile a casual scrutiny, laid a pound note on the counter.