Good lord, thought Purbright; was this tatter-minded pepperminty young man a Rasputin to the Staunch’s Tsarina? Absurd. Finding him a bit simple, she probably encouraged him to hang around in order to give the impression that her agency enjoyed church patronage.
“And do you know if Miss Reckitt found a friend through this agency?”
“I expect so. She is very deserving.”
“But you don’t know for certain?”
“Ah...No. To that one, no is the answer, brother, and I can’t say otherwise. How is Mr Kebble keeping?”
“I really couldn’t say.”
“What a pity. I often wonder.”
“Goodbye, Len. Many thanks.”
“Likewise. Go in peace, brother, and cheer-ho.”
At the police station, Purbright found pook and the sergeant waiting to make confession. He was still feeling the vague light headedness that had been induced by conversation with the Reverend Leaper, and it was a minute or two before he realized what Love, who spoke first, was talking about.
“Oh, Christ, Sid—do you mean to say you’ve lost her again?”
“It wasn’t me who lost her,” protested Love.
“But I thought it was your job to follow her?”
“She went out the wrong way again.”
“That’s right,” said Pook. “Straight at me. And I hadn’t had any instructions.”
“You were supposed to intimidate her, Mr Pook. Why didn’t you? You were the stopper.”
“Well she didn’t stop.” Pook’s tone suggested a suspicion that the others had known quite well what was going to happen. He had been reading a book lately about double agents.
“And so?” prompted Purbright, more gently.
“I followed her.” There was a short pause. “Until she lost me in a shop.”
“She lost you?”
“Oh, yes, it was on purpose, all right. She kept dodging up and down in a lift.”
“Did she, indeed?” Purbright sounded thoughtful. “Well, we can’t do anything about that now. All right, Mr Pook,” he nodded his dismissal, “don’t reproach yourself.” Alone with Love, the inspector stared vacantly at the ceiling.
“This Miss Teatime,” he said at last, “seems to be quite an interesting character.”
Love gave a short, bitter laugh.
“There would appear,” Purbright went on, “to be very little to be gained from continuing to play hide and seek with the woman in lifts. She’s obviously aware that somebody’s following her, and she’s astute enough to do something about it.”
“I reckon she’s a bit of an old villain,” said Love, irreverently.
“Well, we don’t know that. As I said before, I don’t blame anybody for dodging narky coppers if they’ve a mind to. It doesn’t mean that they’re criminals. But in a case like this, it’s not encouraging to have our excellent intentions thwarted by a shrewd and surprisingly nippy female.”
“So what do we do?”
“I’ve been thinking again about a suggestion of yours, Sid. About taking Miss Teatime into our confidence. I was against the idea before because she seemed likely to be a bit silly and easily flummoxed. On her showing during the last couple of days, she’s nothing of the sort. I think she’s capable of being very helpful. At the same time, she will have to be warned of the risk she’s running.”
“Can I be taken off the long distance lark, then?”
“With pleasure.”
“Thank God for that. By the way, what joy did we get out of that break-in business?”
“Mrs Staunch’s office? What I expected. Damn-all. It made Harper happy, though. He’s got lots of lovely prints that might have been left by anybody from the window cleaner to the Archbishop of Bombay. It was a bit much to hope for that Rex should turn out to be some felon on file at Central.”
“And the letters to Mrs Bannister?”
“Just smudges.”
“So much for the miracles of forensic science.” Love’s feet were beginning to feel better already. A little cynical truculence did not seem too bold a mark of celebration.
Chapter Fourteen
If there was one thing about Miss Teatime that seemed predictable, it was her appearance at breakfast shortly after nine o’clock. Purbright decided that this occasion, while perhaps unorthodox, would be the best opportunity of cornering her.
He arrived at the Roebuck at ten to nine and explained his purpose to a very sleepy Mr Maddox, whose stiff morning attire was in curious contrast to the state of its occupant. He appeared to droop within his suit rather like a tortoise inside its up-ended shell.
The manager showed Purbright to a corner table and left him to his own devices after sending one of the waitresses to fetch him a pot of coffee. The inspector tried to decline the coffee, but Maddox said no, it did not do for anyone to sit in the dining room unprovided: the consequent, ah, lurking look was not quite, er...
Miss Teatime came through the door at precisely nine o’clock. Purbright felt sure of her identity even before he saw Maddox pass behind her and give a tired nod.
She looked alert and ready to be pleased. Even a glance at the menu, which she took through spectacles that she fished from her handbag and afterwards replaced, did nothing to modify her blandly sanguine expression. A character of some strength, Purbright decided.
He waited until she had finished eating and was pouring out another cup of coffee. Then he crossed to her table and introduced himself.
Miss Teatime showed sign neither of surprise nor of apprehension. She might have been in the habit of breakfasting with inspectors of police every other morning in her life.
“I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr Purbright,” she said, sounding as if she meant it. “Would you like me to ask the girl to bring you some coffee?” In the way she said “gairl” Purbright recognized a relic of the well-to-do female education of forty years ago.
“That’s very kind of you, but I’d rather not have any more.”
She gave a graceful little inclination of the head and began stirring her own coffee. “And what is it you wish to talk to me about, inspector?”
“In the first place, I must apologize for the intrusion.”
“Not at all.”
“Oh, but yes. You see, the intrusion has gone more deeply than you are perhaps aware. My appearance this morning is, so to speak, the tip of the iceberg. There have been inquiries—very discreet inquiries, if that is any consolation—into what normally would be rightly regarded as your private affairs. A watchful eye has even been kept on you for part of the time you have been in Flaxborough. Now then, Miss Teatime, don’t you think you are entitled to my apologies?”
Her frown was of puzzlement rather than anger.
“It all sounds very intriguing, Mr Purbright, but I am sure you did not come here to work up my indignation against these things you say you have been up to.”