to-?’ There was annoyance in Gilbert’s face.
Morse nodded.
If it had taken ten minutes to put this particular valuable finally to rest, it took less than ten seconds to resurrect it. And it was a head, a marble head of Gerardus Mercator, the Flemish geographer- a head chopped off at the neck, like the head of the man who had been dragged from the canal out at Thrupp.
A somewhat foolish-looking Morse now hastened to take his leave, but before doing so he sought briefly to mitigate the awkward little episode. He addressed himself to Gilbert: “You’re a fellow sufferer, I see.’
For a second or two Gilbert’s eyes looked puzzled – suspicious almost. ‘Ah-the scarf-yes! Abscess. But the dentist won’ttouch it. What about you, sir?’
So Morse told him, and the two men chatted amiably enough for a couple of minutes. Then Morse departed.
From the window, Gilbert watched Morse as he walked towards the Lodge.
‘How the hell did he get in?’
‘I must have left the door open.’
‘Well, you’re going to have to learn to keep doors shut in this business – understand? One of the first rules of the trade, that is. Still, you’ve not been with us long, have you?’
‘Month.’ The youth looked surly, and Gilbert’s tone was deliberately softer as he continued.
‘Never mind -no harm done. You don’t know who he is, do you?’
‘No. But I saw him go into the room opposite, then I heard him come out again.’
‘Opposite, eh?’ Gilbert opened the door, and looked out. ‘Mm. That must be Dr Browne-Smith, then.’
‘He said he was a friend o’ this fella here.’
‘Well, you believed him, didn’t you?’
‘Yeah – course.’
‘As I say, though, we can’t be too careful in this job, Charlie. Lots of valuables around. It’s always the same.’
‘He didn’t take anything.’
‘No, I’m sure he didn’t. He-er-just sort of looked round, you say?’
‘Yeah, looked around a bit- said he wanted to leave a message for this fella, that’s all.’
‘Where’s the message?’ Gilbert’s voice was suddenly sharp.
‘I dunno. He just typed-’
‘He what?’
The unhappy Charlie pointed vaguely to the portable. ‘He just typed a little note on that thing, that’s all.’
‘Ah, I see. Well, if that’s all-’ Gilbert’s face seemed to relax, and his tone was kindly again. ‘But look, my lad. If you’re going to make a success of this business, you’ve got to be a bit cagey, like me. When you’re moving people, see, it’s easy as wink for someone to nip in the property and pretend he’s a relative or something. Then he nicks all the silver- and then where are we? Understand?’
‘Yeah.’
‘So. Let’s start being cagey right away, OK? You be a good lad, and just nip down to the Lodge, and see if they know who that fellow was in here. It’ll be a bit of good experience for you.’
Without enthusiasm, Charlie went out, and for a secondGilbert walked over to the window, and waited until the young apprentice was out of sight. Then he put on a pair of working gloves, picked up the portable typewriter and crossed the landing. He knew that the door opposite was unlocked (since he had already tried it on his way up), and very swiftly he entered the room and exchanged the typewriter he carried for the one on Dr Browne-Smith’s desk.
Gilbert was kneeling by one of the crates, carefully repacking the head of Gerardus Mercator, when a rather worried-looking Charlie returned.
‘It was t he police.’
‘Really?’ Gilbert kept his eyes on his work. ‘Well, that’s good news. Somebody must have seen you here and thought the college had a burglar or something. Yes-that explains it. You see, lad, there aren’t many people in the colleges this time of year. They’ve nearly all gone, so it’s a good time for burglars, understand?’
Charlie nodded, and was soon attaching an address label to the recently lidded crate: G. D. Westerby, Esq., Flat 6, 29 Cambridge Way, London,
Morse nodded.
If it had taken ten minutes to put this particular valuable finally to rest, it took less than ten seconds to resurrect it. And it was a head, a marble head of Gerardus Mercator, the Flemish geographer- a head chopped off at the neck, like the head of the man who had been dragged from the canal out at Thrupp.
A somewhat foolish-looking Morse now hastened to take his leave, but before doing so he sought briefly to mitigate the awkward little episode. He addressed himself to Gilbert: “You’re a fellow sufferer, I see.’
For a second or two Gilbert’s eyes looked puzzled – suspicious almost. ‘Ah-the scarf-yes! Abscess. But the dentist won’ttouch it. What about you, sir?’
So Morse told him, and the two men chatted amiably enough for a couple of minutes. Then Morse departed.
From the window, Gilbert watched Morse as he walked towards the Lodge.
‘How the hell did he get in?’
‘I must have left the door open.’
‘Well, you’re going to have to learn to keep doors shut in this business – understand? One of the first rules of the trade, that is. Still, you’ve not been with us long, have you?’
‘Month.’ The youth looked surly, and Gilbert’s tone was deliberately softer as he continued.
‘Never mind -no harm done. You don’t know who he is, do you?’
‘No. But I saw him go into the room opposite, then I heard him come out again.’
‘Opposite, eh?’ Gilbert opened the door, and looked out. ‘Mm. That must be Dr Browne-Smith, then.’
‘He said he was a friend o’ this fella here.’
‘Well, you believed him, didn’t you?’
‘Yeah – course.’
‘As I say, though, we can’t be too careful in this job, Charlie. Lots of valuables around. It’s always the same.’
‘He didn’t take anything.’
‘No, I’m sure he didn’t. He-er-just sort of looked round, you say?’
‘Yeah, looked around a bit- said he wanted to leave a message for this fella, that’s all.’
‘Where’s the message?’ Gilbert’s voice was suddenly sharp.
‘I dunno. He just typed-’
‘He what?’
The unhappy Charlie pointed vaguely to the portable. ‘He just typed a little note on that thing, that’s all.’
‘Ah, I see. Well, if that’s all-’ Gilbert’s face seemed to relax, and his tone was kindly again. ‘But look, my lad. If you’re going to make a success of this business, you’ve got to be a bit cagey, like me. When you’re moving people, see, it’s easy as wink for someone to nip in the property and pretend he’s a relative or something. Then he nicks all the silver- and then where are we? Understand?’
‘Yeah.’
‘So. Let’s start being cagey right away, OK? You be a good lad, and just nip down to the Lodge, and see if they know who that fellow was in here. It’ll be a bit of good experience for you.’
Without enthusiasm, Charlie went out, and for a secondGilbert walked over to the window, and waited until the young apprentice was out of sight. Then he put on a pair of working gloves, picked up the portable typewriter and crossed the landing. He knew that the door opposite was unlocked (since he had already tried it on his way up), and very swiftly he entered the room and exchanged the typewriter he carried for the one on Dr Browne-Smith’s desk.
Gilbert was kneeling by one of the crates, carefully repacking the head of Gerardus Mercator, when a rather worried-looking Charlie returned.
‘It was t he police.’
‘Really?’ Gilbert kept his eyes on his work. ‘Well, that’s good news. Somebody must have seen you here and thought the college had a burglar or something. Yes-that explains it. You see, lad, there aren’t many people in the colleges this time of year. They’ve nearly all gone, so it’s a good time for burglars, understand?’
Charlie nodded, and was soon attaching an address label to the recently lidded crate: G. D. Westerby, Esq., Flat 6, 29 Cambridge Way, London,
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