is, of course, not subject to any checks. He only requires space and contacts, chiefly a contact at a customs post who can let the goods out and give them a perfectly correct import licence as they come back in. But that's as far as he can go in the deal. The buyer must have an invoice with a registered dealer's name on it, have paid the normal tax, etc.'
'It's complicated enough,' murmured Jeffreys, scratching his head.
'Everything you do in this country is complicated,' pointed out the Captain, when he heard this, 'legal or illegal, and there was a great deal of money involved as you've seen.'
'So,' the Chief leaned back and got his cloud going again, 'this flat is a little centre of commerce. Very nice. Hence the various fingerprints on everything in here except his own desk and chair, as it were. Which brings us to Mr X, the legal dealer, not to mention Mr Y, the crooked customs officer, not to mention the missing couple.'
'We needn't worry about the customs end or the missing couple,' pointed out the Captain. 'As I've said, they'll be tracked down more easily by our people in Rome. They often know about such people already but lack any concrete evidence. What I want is that dealer.'
'The man Miss White saw but doesn't want to name,' put in Jeffreys. 'You could pull in the greengrocer, of course.'
'I could,' agreed the Captain, 'but he's our only link and as long as no one knows that we're on to him we're one step ahead. I've already got men out in this quarter doing spot checks on the books of all the dealers to see if anyone has been exporting an unusually large amount of stuff. That will cause a stir and possibly get us some information without suggesting that we suspect anyone in particular.'
'And do you?' asked Jeffreys.
'Yes, I do, but like Miss White I'm cautious. If I move in on him without evidence I'll never get a warrant.'
'Well, according to what you've just told us about this nice little arrangement — ' the Chief waved his pipe around the room—'you can't pin anything on him if you do know who he is.'
'I'll pin a murder on him, if he's responsible for it,' said the Captain grimly.
They had almost forgotten that one inexplicable fact. The arrangement seemed to be perfect, it had worked smoothly for years, but the Englishman was dead. They were silent for a moment.
'It seems to me,' began the Chief, after prodding carefully at his pipe bowl with a spent match, 'that in your position I'd be inclined to pick up our Mr X on a smallish charge—shouldn't be difficult — and keep him under lock and key for a while. Somebody else might decide to talk, if he doesn't. Or vice-versa, you arrest your greengrocer and put a bit of pressure on him, suggest he might be left to take the rap for the whole thing …'
But Carabiniere Bacci had quickly translated the first part of what the Chief had said and both Italians were shaking their heads before he had finished speaking.
'I can't do anything like that,' explained the Captain, 'because if I arrest anyone connected with the case at all, I shall have only forty days in which to complete my evidence, after which the Instructing Judge must take over. I should need a very strong case indeed before I applied for a warrant.'
'But that's practically preventing you from doing your job!'
'It's preventing me from harassing the innocent on trumped-up evidence, from running a police state, to put it bluntly.'
'It looks like preventing you from catching a villain.'
'It might. But remember that our court debate, unlike yours, is pretty much of a formality. If I get hold of that man I'll keep him.' Something in the Captain's pale solemnity shook even the Chief. To the Chief a villain was a villain; you could take liberties, so could he, but only because he had a fair chance in court. The Captain was scrupulous; he took no liberties but he looked like giving no quarter. The Chief decided he wouldn't like to be in Mr X's shoes. Well, it wasn't his problem; his problem
'It's complicated enough,' murmured Jeffreys, scratching his head.
'Everything you do in this country is complicated,' pointed out the Captain, when he heard this, 'legal or illegal, and there was a great deal of money involved as you've seen.'
'So,' the Chief leaned back and got his cloud going again, 'this flat is a little centre of commerce. Very nice. Hence the various fingerprints on everything in here except his own desk and chair, as it were. Which brings us to Mr X, the legal dealer, not to mention Mr Y, the crooked customs officer, not to mention the missing couple.'
'We needn't worry about the customs end or the missing couple,' pointed out the Captain. 'As I've said, they'll be tracked down more easily by our people in Rome. They often know about such people already but lack any concrete evidence. What I want is that dealer.'
'The man Miss White saw but doesn't want to name,' put in Jeffreys. 'You could pull in the greengrocer, of course.'
'I could,' agreed the Captain, 'but he's our only link and as long as no one knows that we're on to him we're one step ahead. I've already got men out in this quarter doing spot checks on the books of all the dealers to see if anyone has been exporting an unusually large amount of stuff. That will cause a stir and possibly get us some information without suggesting that we suspect anyone in particular.'
'And do you?' asked Jeffreys.
'Yes, I do, but like Miss White I'm cautious. If I move in on him without evidence I'll never get a warrant.'
'Well, according to what you've just told us about this nice little arrangement — ' the Chief waved his pipe around the room—'you can't pin anything on him if you do know who he is.'
'I'll pin a murder on him, if he's responsible for it,' said the Captain grimly.
They had almost forgotten that one inexplicable fact. The arrangement seemed to be perfect, it had worked smoothly for years, but the Englishman was dead. They were silent for a moment.
'It seems to me,' began the Chief, after prodding carefully at his pipe bowl with a spent match, 'that in your position I'd be inclined to pick up our Mr X on a smallish charge—shouldn't be difficult — and keep him under lock and key for a while. Somebody else might decide to talk, if he doesn't. Or vice-versa, you arrest your greengrocer and put a bit of pressure on him, suggest he might be left to take the rap for the whole thing …'
But Carabiniere Bacci had quickly translated the first part of what the Chief had said and both Italians were shaking their heads before he had finished speaking.
'I can't do anything like that,' explained the Captain, 'because if I arrest anyone connected with the case at all, I shall have only forty days in which to complete my evidence, after which the Instructing Judge must take over. I should need a very strong case indeed before I applied for a warrant.'
'But that's practically preventing you from doing your job!'
'It's preventing me from harassing the innocent on trumped-up evidence, from running a police state, to put it bluntly.'
'It looks like preventing you from catching a villain.'
'It might. But remember that our court debate, unlike yours, is pretty much of a formality. If I get hold of that man I'll keep him.' Something in the Captain's pale solemnity shook even the Chief. To the Chief a villain was a villain; you could take liberties, so could he, but only because he had a fair chance in court. The Captain was scrupulous; he took no liberties but he looked like giving no quarter. The Chief decided he wouldn't like to be in Mr X's shoes. Well, it wasn't his problem; his problem
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