first thing in the morning we interview the ticket collector again. See how many local people he can remember leaving the train. We might be lucky.’
‘Do you know that story about the Archbishop of York?’ the Chief Constable asked. ‘Yes, yes. We’ll do that. But there’s no hurry. Make yourself at ’ome, man, and take some Scotch. You’re in the Midlands now. The slow Midlands (eh, super?). We don’t ’ustle, but we get there just the same.’
Of course, he was right. There
was
no hurry, and there wasn’t anything anyone could do at this hour, but as Mather stood beside the map, it was just as if someone were calling him, ‘Hurry. Hurry. Hurry. Or you may be too late.’ He traced the main streets with his finger; he wanted to be as familiar with them as he was with central London. Here was the G.P.O., the market, the Metropole, the High Street; what was this? the Tanneries. ‘What’s this big block in the Tanneries, sir?’ he asked.
‘That’ll be Midland Steel,’ the superintendent said and turning to the Chief Constable he went on patiently, ‘No, sir. I hadn’t heard that one. That’s a good one, sir.’
‘The mayor told me that,’ the Chief Constable said. ‘He’s a sport, old Piker. Do you know what he said when we had that committee on the gas practice? He said, “This’ll give us a chance to get into a strange bed.” He meant the women couldn’t tell who was who in a gas mask. You see?’
‘Very witty man, Mr Piker, sir.’
‘Yes, super, but I was too smart for him there. I was on the spot that day. Do you know what I said?’
‘No, sir.’
‘I said, “
You
won’t be able to find a strange bed, Piker.” Catch me meaning? He’s a dog, old Piker.’
‘What are your arrangements for the gas practice, sir?’ Mather asked with his finger jabbed on the Town Hall.
‘You can’t expect people to buy gas masks at twenty-five bob a time, but we’re having a raid the day after tomorrow with smoke bombs from Hanlow aerodrome, and anyone found in the street without a mask will be carted off by ambulance to the General Hospital. So anyone who’s too busy to stop indoors will have to buy a mask. Midland Steel are supplying all their people with masks, so it’ll be business as usual there.’
‘Kind of blackmail,’ the superintendent said. ‘Stay in or buy a mask. The transport companies have spent a pretty penny on masks.’
‘What hours, sir?’
‘We don’t tell them that. Sirens hoot. You know the idea. Boy Scouts on bicycles. They’ve been lent masks. But of course
we
know it’ll be all over before noon.’
Mather looked back at the map. ‘These coal yards,’ he said, ‘round the station. You’ve got them well covered?’
‘We are keeping an eye on those,’ the superintendent said. ‘I saw to that as soon as the Yard rang through.’
‘Smart work, boys, smart work,’ the Chief Constable said, swallowing the last of his whisky. ‘I’ll be off home. Busy day before us all tomorrow. You’d like a conference with me in the morning, I dare say, super?’
‘Oh, I don’t think we’ll trouble you that early, sir.’
‘Well, if you do need any advice, I’m always at the end of the ’phone. Good night, boys.’
‘Good night, sir. Good night.’
‘The old boy’s right about one thing.’ The superintendent put the whisky away in his cupboard. ‘We can’t do anything more tonight.’
‘I won’t keep you up, sir,’ Mather said. ‘You mustn’t think I’m fussy. Saunders will tell you I’m as ready to knock off as any man, but there’s something about this case … I can’t leave it alone. It’s a queer case. I was looking at this map, sir, and trying to think where I’d hide. What about these dotted lines out here on the east?’
‘It’s a new housing estate.’
‘Half-built houses?’
‘I’ve put two men on special beat out there.’
‘You’ve got everything taped pretty well, sir. You don’t really need us.’
‘You
‘Do you know that story about the Archbishop of York?’ the Chief Constable asked. ‘Yes, yes. We’ll do that. But there’s no hurry. Make yourself at ’ome, man, and take some Scotch. You’re in the Midlands now. The slow Midlands (eh, super?). We don’t ’ustle, but we get there just the same.’
Of course, he was right. There
was
no hurry, and there wasn’t anything anyone could do at this hour, but as Mather stood beside the map, it was just as if someone were calling him, ‘Hurry. Hurry. Hurry. Or you may be too late.’ He traced the main streets with his finger; he wanted to be as familiar with them as he was with central London. Here was the G.P.O., the market, the Metropole, the High Street; what was this? the Tanneries. ‘What’s this big block in the Tanneries, sir?’ he asked.
‘That’ll be Midland Steel,’ the superintendent said and turning to the Chief Constable he went on patiently, ‘No, sir. I hadn’t heard that one. That’s a good one, sir.’
‘The mayor told me that,’ the Chief Constable said. ‘He’s a sport, old Piker. Do you know what he said when we had that committee on the gas practice? He said, “This’ll give us a chance to get into a strange bed.” He meant the women couldn’t tell who was who in a gas mask. You see?’
‘Very witty man, Mr Piker, sir.’
‘Yes, super, but I was too smart for him there. I was on the spot that day. Do you know what I said?’
‘No, sir.’
‘I said, “
You
won’t be able to find a strange bed, Piker.” Catch me meaning? He’s a dog, old Piker.’
‘What are your arrangements for the gas practice, sir?’ Mather asked with his finger jabbed on the Town Hall.
‘You can’t expect people to buy gas masks at twenty-five bob a time, but we’re having a raid the day after tomorrow with smoke bombs from Hanlow aerodrome, and anyone found in the street without a mask will be carted off by ambulance to the General Hospital. So anyone who’s too busy to stop indoors will have to buy a mask. Midland Steel are supplying all their people with masks, so it’ll be business as usual there.’
‘Kind of blackmail,’ the superintendent said. ‘Stay in or buy a mask. The transport companies have spent a pretty penny on masks.’
‘What hours, sir?’
‘We don’t tell them that. Sirens hoot. You know the idea. Boy Scouts on bicycles. They’ve been lent masks. But of course
we
know it’ll be all over before noon.’
Mather looked back at the map. ‘These coal yards,’ he said, ‘round the station. You’ve got them well covered?’
‘We are keeping an eye on those,’ the superintendent said. ‘I saw to that as soon as the Yard rang through.’
‘Smart work, boys, smart work,’ the Chief Constable said, swallowing the last of his whisky. ‘I’ll be off home. Busy day before us all tomorrow. You’d like a conference with me in the morning, I dare say, super?’
‘Oh, I don’t think we’ll trouble you that early, sir.’
‘Well, if you do need any advice, I’m always at the end of the ’phone. Good night, boys.’
‘Good night, sir. Good night.’
‘The old boy’s right about one thing.’ The superintendent put the whisky away in his cupboard. ‘We can’t do anything more tonight.’
‘I won’t keep you up, sir,’ Mather said. ‘You mustn’t think I’m fussy. Saunders will tell you I’m as ready to knock off as any man, but there’s something about this case … I can’t leave it alone. It’s a queer case. I was looking at this map, sir, and trying to think where I’d hide. What about these dotted lines out here on the east?’
‘It’s a new housing estate.’
‘Half-built houses?’
‘I’ve put two men on special beat out there.’
‘You’ve got everything taped pretty well, sir. You don’t really need us.’
‘You
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