The Blind Side

Chapter XVII

The Inspector looked at his watch. If Miss Mavis Grey was at home she ought to be here within the next quarter of an hour.

“Good job I’d told Lintott to fetch her along as soon as Mr. Renshaw let on that it was her with Mr. Craddock at the Ducks and Drakes last night. Looks as if she might have quite a piece to tell us if that Miss Bingham wasn’t making her story up.”

“I don’t think she was making it up,” said Detective Abbott.

“There’s no saying what a spiteful woman will make up. And when you know as much about ’ em as I do, my lad, you’ll know that the only thing you can be sure of about any of ’em, good or bad, is that you never can be sure about anything. They try and fox you, and then if you catch ’em out, they up and laugh and say they weren’t trying, and the next thing you know they’re at it again. Here, ring up Mr. Grey’s house, and if Lintott’s still there, you tell him to ask Miss Grey for the silver dress she was wearing last night, and tell him to bring it along. I want to have a look at it, see? There’s the address and the telephone number on the paper we got from Rush. And when you’ve done that I think I’ll just have a word with Mr. Peter Renshaw.”

Detective Abbott busied himself with the telephone. He caught Lintott, delivered his message, and went to collect Peter. He found him in Miss Lucy Craddock’s flat, and had a glimpse through the open sitting-room door of Miss Lee Fenton, all eyes and very pale. Peter, who had opened the front door, said,

“Hullo-again?” And then, “I say, you are Fug Abbott, aren’t you?”

“Off duty,” said Detective Abbott suavely. “At the moment-”

“You’re a myrmidon of the law. Well, well-any use asking you to drop in when you are off duty-or is the position too delicate?”

“I don’t know. Of course, anything you said-”

“Would be used against me. Well, put it to the Inspector if you like, and come if you can. We needn’t talk murders.” He smiled an odd, twisted smile. “You know where to find me.”

They came back into Ross Craddock’s flat. The Inspector was looking out of the window. Peter took up a position in front of the fireplace with his hands in his pockets. He had had enough of the chair-the prisoner was accommodated with a chair-no, thank you!

Inspector Lamb came back from the window.

“Won’t you sit down, Mr. Renshaw?”

“No, thank you, Inspector.”

Detective Abbott sat to his notes again. The Inspector turned a frowning face and said,

“Mr. Renshaw, I have just taken a statement from Miss Bingham. She informs me that she saw Miss Mavis Grey enter your flat just before one a.m. last night, and again at five minutes to three. What have you to say about that?”

Well, what had he to say? If the old cat had actually seen Mavis, there wasn’t very much to be said. They were bound to interrogate Mavis, and the only thing for Mavis to do was to tell the exact truth. But would she? He felt a considerable amount of doubt. And if she didn’t stick to the truth, then anything he said was going to make things worse. In fact, least said, soonest mended.

He looked frankly at the Inspector.

“I don’t think I’ve got anything to say.”

“Mr. Renshaw, this is a very grave matter. You made a statement just now-”

“I made a statement which concerned myself and my own movements during the night. That statement was perfectly true.”

“All of it, Mr. Renshaw-including your reason for sleeping on the sofa in the sitting-room? Do you still say that it was because the breeze was that side, or will you modify that and admit that you had given up your bedroom to Miss Grey?”

Peter smiled affably.

“It sounds better that way-on Miss Bingham’s statement. That is to say, I’m not really admitting anything, you know, and if you want to heckle me about the breeze, I daresay I could prove that it was on that side of the house. As to Miss Grey’s movements, I suggest that you ask her, not me. She’s in a much better position to know what she was doing last night than I am.” He smiled again in the pleasantest manner in the world. “You can’t insist on my making a statement-can you?”

The Inspector did not smile. He said stiffly,

“All these statements are entirely voluntary. But at the same time I would like to point out-”

“That any failure to make one, or to do all in my power to assist the police would be highly suspicious. But you see, Inspector, I am doing my very best to assist you. I am suggesting that you apply to Miss Grey. She will probably tell you a great deal more than you want to know. Girls are like that.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Miss Bingham, for instance. But of course that’s all in the day’s work.”

The Inspector took no notice. He continued to frown, and said in an official voice,

“I would like your permission to search the flat you are occupying.”

“My permission, Inspector? Why this formality?”

“Because I haven’t got a search-warrant, and your permission will save time. Have you any objection to giving it?”

“Oh, none-none at all.”

“Then when Lintott arrives you will perhaps accompany him. You had better be present.”

“Just to see that he doesn’t manufacture fingerprints and fabricate bloodstains? I see.”

“Meanwhile-”

Peter laughed.

“Meanwhile, you’d like to keep me under your eye. All right, I don’t mind. I’ve spent the last fortnight destroying things in that flat, and I’m fed up with it.”