A Spoonful of Luger (37 page)

“Then
perhaps
not
an
alibi.
But
he’d
want
them
to
agree
to
say
nothing,
at
least.
He
was
hinting
at
something,
anyway,
and
at
the
time
Mike
says he
didn’t
know
what
it
was.
He
knew
later,
of
course.
But
anyway,
Mike
says
Norman
and
Cleave
were
arguing
when
they
left,
and
Dennis
would
have
a
long
drive
to
persuade
Norman
in.
Maybe
he
didn’t
persuade
him.
More
than
likely
Norman
told
him
to
go
to
hell,
perhaps
not
even
then
realizing
what
had
happened
on
the
previous
evening.”

He
was
silent,
picked
up
a
ball-point,
and
played
with
it.

“But
Cleave
had
two
murders
on
his
hands,”
I
said.
“And
he’d
got
one
false
alibi,
and
in
a
day
or
two,
he
knew,
the
Lyles
would
guess
what
had
happened.
Perhaps
he’d
taken
his
gun
along,
anticipating
he’d
have
to
do
something
about
it.
Then,
on
the
way
back,
he
did
do
something
about
it.”

Bycroft
shrugged.
“We’ll
never
prove
anything,
but
that
could
have
been
a
gunshot
wound
along
the
side
of
Norman’s
head.
And
of
course,
there’d
then
be
Mike
and
Rose
to
be
dealt
with ... ”

“If
he’d
got
round
to
it.”

“So
you
can
see
why
Mike’s
the
obvious
suspect
for
Cleave’s
murder.
He’d
realize
the
position,
head
out
for
Cleave’s
place,
hunt
out
the
gun ... ” Bycroft
lifted
his
palms,
and
slapped
them
back
onto
the
desk.
“Except
that
he
didn’t
know
his
brother
was
dead.
He
didn’t
know
it
when
you
went
there.
It
was
obviously
a
shock
to
him
when
we
took
him
to
the
morgue.
George,
he
didn’t
know
Norman
was
dead!”
His
voice
was
rising.

“If
you
say
so,
Frank.”

“And
how
would
he
get
a
key
to
the
box,
anyway?”

“Perhaps
they
made
one
from
the
duplicate
Tony
had
got
for
Norman,”
I
said
encouragingly,
but
without
any
conviction.

“But
why
would
Mike
expect
to
need
one?
Norman
had
a
key.
He
always
drove
faster
than
Cleave,
and
he
intended
to
get
back
to
the
scrapyard
first,
and
get
that
log
book.
You
know
about
that
log
book?”

“I
know.”

“You
would!
So
why
should
they
make
another
one?”

“All
right,
Frank,
I’ll
accept
that.
Then
you
have
to
accept
that
Tony
Finch
was
lying.
Somebody
must
have
got
to
that
duplicate
before
Norman
had
it.”

“But
he
wasn’t
lying,”
Bycroft
said
in
despair.
“Mike’s
confirmed
all
he
said.”

“
Mike
has?”

Again
the
hopeless
palms
were
slapped
onto
the
desk.
“He
didn’t
know
what
it
meant,
you
could
see
that.
Mike
said
that
Norman
came
home
in
triumph
with
the
duplicate,
and
said
that
he’d
stood
in
the
doorway
of
the
office
while
Tony
got
it
for
him,
keeping
watch
for
the
pick-up
along
the
lane.”

“Then
why
didn’t
Norman
open
the
box
there
and
then?”

“There
were
seconds
in
it,
apparently.
They
could
see
the
pick-up
coming
along
the
lane.
And
Tony
couldn’t
get
the
pouch
“open.
It’d
stuck
together, just
like
Tony
said.”

“But
even
so,
they
could’ve
found
time
to
open
the
box.”
I
was
searching
for
any
flaw
in
the
story.
“What’d
it
matter
if
Cleave
saw
them?
All
Norman
wanted
was
the
log
book.”

“But,
you
see,
Norman
could
drive
away
from
it,
but
Tony
was
stuck
there.
And
George,
this
Cleave
was
insane.
Not
just
on
sex,
he
was
going
clean
crazy.
Tony
told
us
he
believed
Cleave
had
a
gun,
but
in
fact
he
knew
damn
well
he
had,
because
Cleave
had
started
carrying
it
about
with
him,
in
the
pick-up.
He
was
quite
capable
of
using
it.
They
were
scared
of
him,
George,
terrified
of
his
mad
rages.
They
had
to
hurry,
not
even
let
him
see
them
near
the
office.”

“So
the
pouch
was
all
stuck
together,
just
as
Tony
said?”
I
just
couldn’t
accept
it.

“I
asked
the
lab,”
he
said
wearily.
“They
got
it
under
a
microscope.
It
had
definitely
been
stuck
together
—
there’s
felt
fibres
pulled.
They
tell
me
that
just the
effect
of
time
could
have
caused
it.
Tony
was
telling
the
exact
truth.”
He
grimaced.
“Else
why
d’you
think
he’s
still
running
around
loose?”