"What was Partridge's attitude?" he asked, when I'd finished. He was making small talk while he juggled the situation in his mind.
"Helpful," I replied. "He didn't raise any objections at all."
"Mmm, that's how I find him. Pity he didn't land the Chiefs job. We really ought to make young Newley acting sergeant, don't you think? His promotion should be through any time."
"Yes, I was about to mention it. One of them ought to be upped, and Nigel's been in on it from the very beginning."
"Right, I'll see what I can do." He fiddled with his pen, then said:
"So what's the programme from now on?"
"Tomorrow," I stated, 'is Friday. They fly to New York, introduce themselves to Loot… Lieutenant diP alma Saturday the boat docks.
Sunday, hopefully, the container will be on United States territory and they'll have access to the contents. If we've done good we could be knocking on Wheatley's door sometime Monday."
"Well it sounds straightforward enough. Charlie, how would you feel if we called in the Fraud Squad?"
So that's why the old bugger was being so edgy. He was afraid I'd be annoyed at having my show taken away from me.
"Come off it, Gilbert," I replied. "You know me better than that. Call in the Yorkshire Light Infantry if it helps. Why? What are you thinking?"
He shrugged his shoulders. "I'm sorry, it's just that you've a lot invested in this one. I was thinking he's probably up to his neck in all sorts of things. Why limit our enquiries to this little scam? They might be able to find something in his files."
"Right, good idea," I replied. I was delighted with the suggestion.
"Then we'll need a Special Procedures Warrant."
"Signed by a judge," sighed Gilbert. "Shouldn't be too difficult to find a sympathetic one; they all live in houses stuffed to the rafters with quietly mouldering antiques."
"Ah, yes," I told him, 'but they were new when they bought them."
I drew a column of numbers on a sheet of paper, representing the twenty-four-hour clock, then I wrote another column alongside showing the corresponding time in New York and pinned the sheet on the wall. It looked as if diP alma should be at work so I dialled his number. He was around, somewhere. They transferred me. I was transferred several more times. Eventually a voice out of Damon Runyon came on and said:
"Yes, Father?"
"Pardon?" was the best I could do.
DiP alma here. How can I help you, Father?"
"Hello, Lieutenant. This is Inspector Priest, from the British police force; Charlie Priest. A couple of my men are coming over to see you, so I thought I'd make contact and introduce myself."
"Ha ha! They just said some priest was after me. How are you, Charlie?"
"Fine. I never actually signed a vow of chastity it's just worked out that way."
"Hey, man, you must have married my wife's sister. Call me Tony. When do your boys arrive?"
Acting Detective Sergeant Newley and Detective Constable Caton were taken to the airport by Mad Maggie and seen safely on their way. I'd given them strict instructions about contacting me after every stage of the enquiry. They were armed with photographs of several items from Wheatley's list and had spoken to three of the previous owners. From them they had received extremely detailed descriptions, so they were now able to positively identify at least four pieces. I'd have preferred it to be more, but it should be enough. I stayed in the office and wore out the carpet.
When Maggie arrived back she reported that they were safely airborne and on time. "Oh, and Nigel said not to forget it's the walk on Sunday," she added.
It had slipped my mind that it was the weekend for the Walking Club to go out. We'd had five or six expeditions and it had been a huge success, although a few were dropping out now the bad weather was here.
"Dammit!" I said. "I had forgotten. Where are we supposed to be going?"
"Edale," she told me.
"Derbyshire. Ah, well, that's not too bad. We could be in the pub by lunchtime."
Nigel rang me late Saturday night to say the Alpha Carrymaster had docked dead on schedule. Everybody was friendly and later that evening they were hitting the town with some of the boys from 120th Precinct. I looked at my mug of cocoa and dressing gown and felt old, but decided I had no desire to trade places with him.
The walk went well, even though it was misty on the high ground. We went over Kinder Scout to have a look at the Downfall. This is the only waterfall in the world where the water travels upwards. The breeze was obligingly from the right direction, so we had a good display, to the disbelief of those who hadn't seen it before. Then I showed Sparky's kids how to plot a compass course over the cloughs, back to Edale and the pub.
I was home well before Nigel was due to ring. "Bad news, boss," he said when he did come on. "The container's off the ship, but we haven't been able to get to it. Should be okay for tomorrow."
I wasn't perturbed; things never run as smoothly as planned. If this was the only hitch we'd done well. "Don't worry about it," I told him.
"Ring me same time tomorrow."
It would have been nice, though, to know we weren't on a wild-goose chase. I went upstairs to have a shower, then remembered I'd already had one, so, after making a couple of phone calls, I went to the local instead.
I was grateful for the delay I awoke on Monday morning feeling dreadful. Must have been something I'd eaten. Fraud Squad were itching to get their hands on Wheatley's files. We were planning a cross-border raid to arrest him soon after we received positive news from Nigel, timed to coincide with similar action in New York. We reluctantly agreed to allow the Americans the pleasure of delivering a seven a.m. knock at the door; we'd have to be patient and wait until lunchtime.
Nigel rang earlier than expected. He didn't mess about: "Success, boss," he told me. "We've identified the ink stain in the drawer of the Queen Anne bureau, that's item eleven on the list; the wrong hinge on item thirteen, George III writing cabinet; the bit knocked off the leg of item two, Chippendale dressing table "The chipped Chippendale," I said.
"Pardon?"
"Never mind, go on."
"Er, and item six, the Victorian table with the writing, that you found."
"Well done. What about the rest of it?"
"Everything here could be on the list, as far as I can tell, but there are a couple of items on the list that aren't here, if you follow."
"Yeah. He probably siphoned off one or two choice pieces for his private collection. So you're confident that we can put Operation Bang Brian Behind Bars into action?"
"You bet, boss."
"Okay, tell Loot… Lieutenant diP alma my pal Tony — that we are go for tomorrow. I'll be in my office from six a.m." your time. Is Jeff with you?"
"Sure, boss, do you want him?"
"Yes, please."
"Hi, boss, it's Jeff."
"Hello, Jeff, how's it going so far?"
"Great, a bit different from back home though. We've been out on patrol a few times. It's a crazy place, not my cup of tea."
"Have you been invited on the raid tomorrow?"
"No, not so far."
"Good, keep out of it if you can, but it's up to you. If you do go, keep an eye on Goldenballs, you know what he's like."
"Okay, boss."
"Ring me in the morning; 'bye."
Sparky went over first, to locate Wheatley and keep tabs on him. His office was built on to the side of his rather desirable converted farmhouse, and he was at home. Nearer the time, a team from Fraud Squad joined Sparky. All I was waiting for was a call from diP alma then I'd send them in. The phone rang, but it was DC Sparkington.