River of Darkness

6

At the end of the week, on Bennett's orders, Sinclair and Madden drew up a report on the current state of the investigation.

The lengthy inquiry into the whereabouts of mental patients discharged from Army wards was nearly concluded.

No likely suspects had been identified. Recent purchasers of Harley-Davidson motorcycles living in the Home Counties had been interviewed and the investigation was being broadened to other regions.

Second-hand dealers were also being questioned. A description of the man sought had been circulated to police authorities, and Sinclair had sent a separate message to stations in the south of England asking them to instruct rural constables to be on the look-out for motorcyclists travelling by back roads over the weekends. Where possible, they were to be stopped and questioned and a note made of their particulars.

The constables were urged to exercise caution.

'Another Friday!' Sinclair stood at the window of his office and stared down at the sluggish tidal flow of the Thames. 'And to think I used to look forward to the weekends! Now I sit waiting for the telephone to ring. I wonder what he's up to, our friend with the size eleven boots.'

Madden had arrived at the office that morning to find the chief inspector glowering over a copy of the Daily Express, whose front page was covered with photographs and a story about the R38 airship, which had crashed into the Humber a few days before with the loss of more than forty lives.

'Thank God for all disasters great and small. Any other day it would have been us smeared all over the front page.'

He opened the paper and handed it to Madden who saw the headline: 'Melling Lodge Mystery — Murders Still Unsolved — Disquiet At The Yard.'

'Sampson's been talking to that stoat Ferris.'

The article began by summarizing the information already published about the case and noting that the police remained 'baffled' by the mysterious killings.

'In the opinion of some observers they are no closer now to solving the crime than they were at the start of the investigation.'

It went on:

A measure of their desperation may be seen in the spreading rumours that certain officers are in favour of seeking help from outside sources.

While such a course has seldom brought benefits in the past — and is strongly opposed by experienced detectives — nevertheless voices are being raised in support of it by some of those most closely connected to the inquiry, which is being conducted by Chief Inspector Angus Sinclair.

'Sampson's chosen his moment,' Sinclair conceded.

'Bennett's seeing the assistant commissioner this afternoon.

Parkhurst will want to know what's being done to advance the investigation. You can see the chief super's game. He thinks he's got us stymied. He's waiting for the cry to go up: "Send for Sampson of the Yard!"'

'He's not afraid of it any more?' Madden was surprised. 'He thinks he can crack it?'

'Why not?' Sinclair shrugged. 'Even with the rough description we have — that plus the motorcycle — we've got enough to identify him. Given a little luck.'

'And time,' Madden pointed out.

'Aye… time.' The chief inspector looked sombre.

'But what if Sampson's right? What if this man's no more than a thief who lost his head? We could be on the wrong track. We're still guessing. We don't know anything.'

'How would you explain Bentham, then?'

'We don't know that was him. We can only be sure about Highfield, and perhaps it's as Sampson says. He tossed everything into the dugout in a panic after the killings and only thought later about coming back to collect it.'

It was the first time Madden had seen his superior look discouraged. I don't agree,' he said. 'It's something else. We both felt it at Melling Lodge. He didn't go there to rob and steal, any more than he did at the Reynolds's farm. I still think it's the women.'

'But why} What does he want with them?'

Madden had no answer. But he did have an idea in mind.

Later, that same day, the inspector took a rare, extended lunch-hour. Helen Blackwell had come up to London.

'I'm supposed to be shopping. We need new curtains for the drawing-room, but somehow I don't think I'll find the right material today.' She laughed and kissed him on the cheek. They had met at a restaurant off Piccadilly. There wasn't a table free immediately and they were sitting on a banquette in the crowded waiting area. On either side of them young women with bobbed hair and brightly painted faces chattered in high-pitched voices. Blood red nails tipped ash from the ends of cigarettes mounted in long holders. Somewhere out of sight a pianist was playing ragtime. It was a new world to Madden.

'Don't scowl. It makes you look like a policeman.'

He laughed, and she slipped her arm through his.

'I have to be back in Guildford by four. They're short-staffed at the hospital and I'm helping out. I wish we weren't both so busy.'

She was wearing a dress of pleated cotton and a straw hat trimmed with cherries. Madden leaned closer to drink in the scent of jasmine. She examined his face with her clear gaze. 'You're not getting enough sleep.

I'll write you a prescription before I go.'

'There's something I want to talk to you about,' he said. 'I've got a favour to ask.'

'What is it?'

'Later.' He didn't want to spoil the moment. He was happy just to be with her, to sit beside her and feel the pressure of her arm linked with his. Without meaning to, he spoke: 'Christ, I miss you.'

She continued looking at him, holding his eyes in her steady glance. Then, not caring that they were in a public place, she leaned over and kissed him on the lips.

Madden felt his face grow warm. 'Let's forget this,' he urged. 'Come back to my place.'

She stood up at once, drawing him with her. 'I was hoping you'd say that.' She was laughing. 'I was going to suggest it myself, but I'm afraid you already think I'm too bold.'

He took her back to his rooms and they made love in the hot afternoon with the curtains drawn across the open window and the sounds of children at play drifting in from the street outside. Afterwards, she lay in his arms, her body warm and damp. She kissed him with open lips, tasting his salty skin.

'Don't let me fall asleep,' she begged. He held her close and felt her heart beating against his.

The seed of our happiness.

The words came into his mind and he recalled where he had heard them. He was reminded, too, that he had a favour to ask of her.

When Madden returned to the Yard he found Sinclair sitting behind his desk, puffing at his pipe in a thoughtful manner.

'Sorry I'm late, sir.'

'That's all right, John. There's damn-all happening anyway.' The chief inspector watched a wreath of blue smoke curling upwards from the bowl of his briar.

'I've just been in to see Bennett. He's had his meeting with Parkhurst. The word from on high is "steady as she goes".'

'What does that mean?'

'It means this inquiry stays within the Yard. Parkhurst made that plain. He doesn't want a carnival his word. No outside experts to be called in. Sampson's got them running scared. We'll have to think of something else.'