Bixley shrank back on the chair. ‘You can’t do this, screw,’ he croaked. ‘I been charged, you can’t touch me. It’s the bleeding law, that is.’
‘I didn’t think the law mattered so much to you,’ Gently said.
‘Yuh,’ Bixley said. ‘You can’t do it. None of you can’t lay a finger on me.’
‘Are you scared of something?’ Gently asked.
‘No,’ Bixley said. ‘I ain’t scared.’
‘You look scared,’ Gently said.
‘I ain’t scared. Not of bleeding coppers.’
‘I could understand it,’ Gently said. ‘There’s a copper lying in the hospital. There’s a girl lying there too. And there’s one of your mates in the mortuary.’
‘Yuh,’ Bixley said. ‘You don’t scare me, screw.’
‘You don’t scare easily,’ Gently said. ‘I’d be scared if I were you.’
Bixley swallowed, touched the black bruise on the right side of his throat. Somebody behind him moved their chair. Bixley swung round, cringing. He met the hard stare of policemen.
‘Yes,’ Gently said. ‘You’re scared, Bixley.’
‘You can’t do it!’ Bixley screamed. ‘I want my rights. I want a lawyer!’
‘Calm yourself,’ Gently said.
‘I been charged. I want a lawyer!’
‘You haven’t been charged,’ Gently said. ‘Not with murder. Not yet.’
‘I ain’t done no murder!’ Bixley screamed. ‘I ain’t, you bleeding know I ain’t.’
‘We’ll see about that,’ Gently said. ‘We’ll see about a lot of things, won’t we, Bixley?’
‘You daren’t touch me!’ Bixley sobbed. ‘You daren’t do it. You bloody daren’t.’
Setters turned his head over his shoulder and spat on the floor. ‘Are you listening to me?’ Gently asked.
‘I never done it!’ Bixley sobbed.
‘Listen carefully,’ Gently said. ‘You’re going to tell me all about that jazz session. And you’re going to tell me the truth, because I’ll know when you’re lying, Bixley. And if you tell any more lies, fifty lawyers won’t help you. So get it stuck in your head. Only the truth is any good.’
‘I ain’t done nothing,’ Bixley sobbed. ‘I ain’t done nothing at all.’
‘Sit up straight,’ Gently said.
‘I ain’t, I ain’t,’ Bixley sobbed.
‘Now, the truth,’ Gently said.
‘I ain’t never killed nobody.’
‘You’ll have to prove it,’ Gently said. ‘Sit up straight and tell the truth.’
Bixley snivelled, propped himself up, began to stammer out his account. It didn’t differ from earlier versions, he even left out the chocolates. Gently picked up the flick-knife, began stabbing at the paper with it. He let Bixley stumble on unquestioned till he’d faltered to a stop. Then he slammed the knife on the desk.
‘Just run through it again,’ he said.
Bixley gaped, didn’t seem to hear him.
‘Come on, come on,’ Gently said.
‘But I now told you-’ Bixley began.
‘Now tell me again,’ Gently said.
One of the policemen shifted his feet. Bixley gulped, began to talk.
‘That,’ Gently said, ‘didn’t sound right either.’
‘But it’s the bleeding truth!’ Bixley croaked. ‘It is, I tell you.’
‘You’ve left some things out.’
‘No, I ain’t!’ Bixley said.
‘Things,’ Gently said, ‘like how the counter-assistant told you who’d taken your box of chocolates.’
‘It was Leach who told me!’ Bixley screamed.
‘My mistake,’ Gently said. ‘Now we’ll run through it again, putting that bit in.’
They went through it again, putting that bit in. Bixley’s lips were very dry, he slurred and tripped over his words. Setters was hammering a tattoo on the desk with his fingers. Bixley didn’t like the sound. He didn’t like Setters’ eyes.
‘So you knew,’ Gently said, ‘who’d gone off with your chocolates?’
‘Yuh,’ Bixley said. ‘Yuh, yuh, I knew.’
‘Yet you didn’t go after him. You left a quarter of an hour later.’
‘I thought I’d see him,’ Bixley said. ‘Yuh, I thought I’d see him around.’
‘You thought you’d leave it like that — after just having paid forty quid for the chocolates?’
‘Yuh,’ Bixley said. ‘Like that’s what I did.’
‘Though you knew he was going to shop you — that he was only waiting for the chance?’
‘I didn’t know nothing about that!’ Bixley shouted. ‘It’s bleeding lies, all that is.’
‘We’ve been talking to Betty Turner, Bixley.’
‘I don’t care. She’s a bleeding liar.’
‘Hallman too.’
‘The bloody rat.’
‘And there’s a lot of others who knew about Lister.’
Bixley strained forward in the chair.
‘All bloody right,’ he croaked. ‘All right. So Lister was going to put the squeal on me. Like I say, all bloody right!’
‘And you didn’t try to stop him,’ Gently said.
‘No, I didn’t try to stop him!’
‘You just let him go off with the box of reefers.’
‘Yuh, yuh, I just let him go.’
‘And Leach was lying if he said you telephoned.’
‘I never telephoned!’ Bixley screamed.
‘Not to Tony’s place?’ Gently asked.
‘I bleeding didn’t. I bleeding didn’t!’
‘So there wouldn’t be a record of such a call?’
Bixley gabbled out swear words.
‘Deeming wants you hung,’ Gently said. ‘You know where you stand with Deeming, don’t you?’
Bixley folded, began howling, stuck his palms in his eyes. He rocked his shoulders from side to side, gasping out paroxysms like a kid.
‘It ain’t true!’ he kept howling. ‘It ain’t true, you bloody swines!’
‘It’s true,’ Gently said. ‘You’d better take a look at where you stand, Bixley. We haven’t got a thing on Deeming. We’ve got everything on you. You’re scum. You’re murderous scum. We’d sooner hang you than hang him. And you’ll hang, Bixley, make no doubt of it, unless you can squirm out of it by ratting. So you’d better rat. It’s your only chance. And you’d better pray that we believe you.’
‘You’re bloody lying!’ Bixley howled. ‘It ain’t true, you dirty swine.’
‘You’ll hang,’ Gently said. ‘You’ve had your last chance, Bixley.’
He went on howling and screaming. Setters got up and walked about. The uniform men in their semicircle stared about them, looked uncomfortable. Only Gently never moved. He was leaning on his elbows on the desk. He watched the crumpled, hysterical, gang-boy with eyes completely empty of expression. His stillness was terrible. It was that which made Setters walk about.
Bixley half straightened, his eyes streaming. He clutched at the desk, held on to it. He crouched, his chin between his hands, his mouth open, gasping sobs.
‘I didn’t!’ he sobbed, ‘I didn’t, I didn’t, I didn’t.’
‘Deeming did,’ Gently said. ‘You phoned him. He did it.’
‘Nobody did it,’ Bixley sobbed. ‘It was an accident, nobody did it.’
‘Deeming did it,’ Gently said. ‘At your suggestion. You’re in it with him.’
‘No!’ Bixley cried. ‘I never suggested it. I didn’t!’
‘What did you suggest?’ Gently asked.
‘Not doing that,’ Bixley sobbed.
‘What else could you suggest?’ Gently asked. ‘ Nothing else would have stopped Lister.’
‘I didn’t, I tell you,’ Bixley sobbed. ‘I never suggested anything at all.’
‘What did you think Deeming would do?’
‘I didn’t think!’ Bixley wailed.
‘You must have thought,’ Gently said.
Bixley went on howling.
The door was tapped. Setters strode over to it. The desk-sergeant stood there. He held a message slip in his hand, looked dubiously towards Gently.
‘What is it?’ Gently asked.
‘It’s a message from Brewer, sir,’ the sergeant said. ‘The bloke they were tailing has given them the slip. Brewer said to let you know directly.’
Gently sat silent for a moment, then he rose and took the slip. It was brief. Deeming had got clear in the cafe, he’d gone into the toilet and hadn’t come out. After five minutes Brewer had gone after him and had found only an open toilet window. The window gave on a yard from which was access to Eastgate Street. Brewer had followed, found Deeming’s motorcycle gone.
‘Where are Brewer and Shepherd now?’