man in it?â
âThere was
two
men, this time. And I donât fink neiver of âem was the man wot usually comes.â
âWhat did they look like?â
âThey was big blokes, wiv their âats pulled down over their eyes.â
âSo how do you know one of them wasnât the man who usually comes?â
ââEâs smaller. Thereâs a few inches between âis âead and the roof of the car, but these two was scraping it with theirs.â
I wish all witnesses were like you, Lene, Woodend thought.
âWhat did these two men do?â
âThey knocked on the door, oâ course, and when the Jones woman answered it, they barged straight in.â
âYouâre sure about that, are you, Lene? Youâre absolutely certain that she didnât
invite
them in?â
âInvite âem in? I should say not! The first one pushed straight past âer, anâ nearly knocked âer flying. Then the second one sort oâ jostled âer inside, and closed the door behind âim.â
âAnâ what happened next?â
âAbout ten minutes later, the door opened again, and one of the men stepped out onto the pavement. âE âad a suitcase in âis âand, âe puts the suitcase in the boot, then gets inside the car and starts the engine. Once itâs running, âe gets
out
again, and looks up and down the street, like âeâs making sure thereâs nobody about. Then âe makes a âcome onâ sign with âis âand. Thatâs when the uvvers come out of the âouse.â
âMrs Jones anâ the second man?â
âCourse, it was them. âOo did you
fink
Iâm talking about? King George and Queen Elizabeff?â
Woodend grinned. âNo, that would have been unlikely,â he admitted.
âAnyway, this second bloke is âolding on to the darkieâs arm. âE ainât exactly
dragging
âer, if yer see what I mean. Itâs more like âeâs guiding âer. âE leads âer over to the motor car and opens the back door. âE points into the car, and she gets inside. âE follows âer, and then the one in front drives away.â
âSo you think she was reluctant to go with them, but not
that
reluctant?â Woodend suggested.
Lene looked at him as if heâd suddenly started speaking to her in an exotic foreign language.
âYer wot?â she asked.
âShe wasnât exactly keen on gettinâ in the car, but she didnât fight against it, either,â Woodend rephrased.
âNo, she didnât fight against it,â Lene agreed. âIf yer ask me, she was too bleeding terrified to fight.â
The Royal Albert public house was on Rotherhithe New Road. With its sign hanging over the main entrance and the name of the brewery etched in its frosted-glass windows, it was, in theory, like any other pub in the area. In practice, however, the only people who entered it were those who had been invited to do so, and the two men standing in the doorway â one big, and the other
very
big â were there to ensure that this practice continued to be observed.
When Woodend showed the two men his warrant card, and asked to speak to Greyhound Ron, the bouncers looked less than impressed.
âMr Smivvers is a very busy man,â one of them said.
ââE donât even âave the time to speak to chief superintendents, never mind detective
sergeants
,â the other added.
âI could get a search warrant,â Woodend pointed out.
The bouncers thought this was hilarious. âAinât you âeard?â the bigger one asked. âMr Smivvers is
fireproof
.â
It was probably true, Woodend thought. He had, earlier in his career, taken a conscious decision to avoid having anything to do with the Serious Crime Squad himself, because it was well known â though impossible to prove
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