Anything For a Quiet Life (13 page)

Major Piper already had his Saturday snapshots out when Jonas arrived. He said, “I’m afraid they won’t be much help to whatever it is you’re after.”

There were several more of the pierrots’ troupe and one of a pudding-faced boy.

“Fell into the sea and was rescued by one of the fishermen. You’d have thought his parents would have wanted a snap, wouldn’t you?”

“If he was my son, Major,” said Jonas, “I think I’d keep him away from the camera for a year or so. Perhaps he’ll be easier on the eye when he’s a bit older.”

He thanked him and made for his last port of call.

The office of Souvenir-pics was at the far end of the town. His two visits had taken time. It was already dark and a fresh wind was blowing in off the sea. Jonas shivered and turned his collar up. His mind was full of faces. Faces with bloated lips and burst eyes. Faces that worked their jaws and tried to scream, but could make no sound.

There was a light in the shop and Mrs French opened the door to him herself. She said, “Mr Pickett? I’ve got something I think you might find interesting. When our man noticed Williams he remembered the public meeting and the fuss about it and followed him up to see if he could get a good picture. Which he did.”

“It’s beautifully clear.” Suddenly Jonas found it difficult to speak.

“I thought you might want some copies so I’ve had six made.”

“You’re an angel. Let me give you a piece of advice. First thing tomorrow take the original to your bank and ask them to put it in their strongest strongroom.”

“You think it’s that important?”

“It’s not just important,” said Jonas softly. “It’s dynamite.”

When Jonas sat down at his desk on Tuesday morning he reached out, twice, for the telephone and twice drew back his hand. He was aware of the views of Chief Superintendent Whaley. In the present case it was possible that those views were shared by his second-in-command. In the end he said, “Well, he can only snub me.” He grabbed the instrument. When he heard Queen’s voice at the other end he said, speaking fast, “Look, I wanted to ask you one question. I don’t imagine this is a good line to do it on. Could we meet somewhere?”

“A question about what?” Queen’s voice was cool.

“About that business on the pier.”

The silence that followed was so long that he thought the Superintendent might have gone off to have a word with Whaley. Apparently no, he had been thinking. He said, “I’ve got to be at the Everdene Hotel at twelve o’clock to take a written statement from young Williams. If you happened to be in the manager’s office at the same time—”

“I’ll be there at five to twelve,” said Jonas. “What I’ve got to ask won’t take more than a few minutes.”

When he saw the Superintendent, he noted the signs of strain in his face. His superiors and the press between them must have been giving him a hard ride.

Queen said, “All right. Ask your question and I’ll see if I’m allowed to answer it.”

“Before I do that,” said Jonas, “I’d like to make my own position in the matter clear. Williams was my client. I understand from Mrs Williams that she would like me to go on acting for her and the estate.”

Queen had no comment to make.

Jonas went on, “It so happens that I have got hold of something. Whether it’s going to help or not, whether it’s important or unimportant, turns on a single point. You’ve been questioning Aylett. Can you tell me, broadly and without going into any detail, what his story is?”

Queen chewed over this in silence. Then he said, “If I answer your question, do you undertake that this something you’ve discovered comes straight to us? No fooling round, no trying to be clever.”

“Just as soon as the information is hard, you shall have it.”

“Very well. You said, tell me what Aylett’s story is, without details or trimmings. That’s easy. There aren’t any. It’s a flat denial of seeing anyone or doing anything. He thinks two of Louie’s men must have got into the arcade by the lower entrance. They must have met Williams and induced him to go in with them. He swears that the first moment he knew anything was wrong was when Dr Abrahams showed him the body. The doctor says that’s a lie. It’s clear he
did
know something was up. But we can’t shake him. He’s obstinate and he’s frightened. And when you’re dealing with a man who’s obstinate and frightened, you might as well talk to a deaf monkey.”

Jonas could hear the ragged edge of strain in his voice. He said, “If I wanted to telephone you this evening, where would I find you?”

“I’ve spent the last two nights on a camp bed in my office. I expect I shall be there tonight as well.”

When he got back, Jonas sent for Sam and said to him, “I want you to get hold of Aylett. I believe you said you knew him.”

“I wouldn’t say we was buddies. I met him a few years ago at Portsmouth Fair. Running a coconut shy. The sort where the coconuts are nailed on. What do I say to him?”

“Ask him if he’ll come along and have a word with me.”

“I’m told he’s pretty busy. That ghost train was popular before. Now the queue’s a hundred yards long. All the kids in town want to get on it. Gruesome little buggers.”

“Do your best,” said Jonas. “If he can’t come till the arcade shuts, that’s all right with me. I don’t mind how late he is. I’ll wait up for him.”

Claire, who was there, said, “I thought your idea was to steer clear of this thing. Now you seem to be getting mixed up in it.”

“I’m not doing it for fun,” said Jonas crossly. “I’m doing it to help my client, Mrs Williams.”

Claire said, “Oh, yeah?” But being a perfect secretary, she said it to herself.

“He’ll come,” said Sam.

“How did you persuade him?”

“No persuasion needed. When I mentioned your name he seemed quite keen on the idea. He’s got to shut down the train and get something to eat. He reckons he’ll be here about ten.”

“Splendid.”

“Matter of fact, I got the idea it suited him better to come after dark. Someone seems to have thrown a scare into him. I told him you’d leave the side door open. The one on the alley. He could slip in that way without showing himself in the street at all. He seemed to like that idea.”

Jonas took his evening meal at the South Wind Restaurant. When he had finished, Landless came and sat at his table. He said, “Does the fact that the police have let Aylett go mean that they think he’s in the clear?”

“It only means that they haven’t got enough evidence yet to charge him with anything.”

“Seems the only result of this whole thing is to make the Shackleton ghost train the biggest attraction on the south coast. They’ll be running coaches from Seaford and Newhaven next.”

“So I’ve heard,” said Jonas shortly. He didn’t want to talk about it.

It was nearly eleven o’clock before Aylett arrived. Jonas had been devoting some thought to how he was going to open what was bound to be a tricky conversation. Aylett saved him the trouble.

He said, “As soon as Sam mentioned your name, Mr Pickett, I thought that’s just what I want. I want a good solicitor.”

Jonas stared at him.

“They’ve let me go. Just for now. But they’ll have me back. I know they will. They’ll keep on and on at me trying to make me say—I mean, trying to make me say something different to what I have said. Next time I go, I want you to come with me. That’s the law, isn’t it? I’m entitled to have a solicitor with me.”

Jonas had got his breath back. He said, “There’s one thing you’ve got to understand. No solicitor can act for a client unless that client tells him the truth.”

“But that’s what I have done, Mr Pickett.” His voice was a thin wail. “I’ve told the police twenty times. I knew nothing about what happened to Mr Williams. Nothing at all. I didn’t get there that afternoon until just before the arcade opened up. There was a lot of kids waiting already. All I had to do was switch on the effects and start the train. Honest.”

The only illumination in the room was the big green-shaded table lamp. In the bright circle of light which it threw on the desk Jonas placed a photograph. It had been taken at an angle to the main entrance of the arcade and some distance from it. It showed Aylett smiling and holding the gate open for Aneurin Williams. Both of them were side-faced to the camera and there was no disputing their identities.

“I’ve been told by three experts,” said Jonas, “that they can time a photograph like this from the angle of the sun. Some time between noon and half past twelve is the consensus of their opinion.”

He said this slowly, in order to give Aylett time to collect his wits and start lying.

“Yes, of course,” he said. “That would have been – let me see – about a week ago. Maybe a little more. Mr Williams came to see me about not letting children on to the train without an adult in charge. That was one of his fads, you see.”

Jonas said, “I don’t think you’ve examined the photograph quite carefully enough. Look at that placard on the wall of the arcade. You can only see the right-hand half of it. But it’s quite clear, isn’t it? Jokes and Jollities. That’s one of the posters announcing this season’s pierrot show.
It was put up last Friday evening
.”

There was a long silence broken finally by Jonas. He said, “When this matter comes to court, as it will, this photograph will be exhibited. The manager of the pierrots will give evidence and so will the photographer. There is no doubt at all” – Jonas’s words were falling like stones into a pool of silence – “that this photograph was taken around noon last Saturday. Two hours before Williams was found dead.”

Aylett said, “What—” and didn’t seem to know how to go on. Then he said, “What can I say?”

“You can tell the truth,” said Jonas. “And then I’ll see what I can do to get you out of the mess you’ve got yourself into.”

Aylett’s resistance broke suddenly and completely. The words came tumbling out. “It was Mr Fredericks. He made me do it. He owns a lot of the concessions on the pier. The ghost train is one of them. If I didn’t do what he said I was out of my job, see? And I owed him money already. And he said he’d put Louie’s men on to me to collect it. Oh God!”

So both my guesses were right, thought Jonas. He said, “Go on. And talk slowly because I’m going to write it down and you’re going to sign it.”

“Wrong on both counts,” said a voice from the darkness near the inner door. Two creatures had come into the room. A lion and a bear. They must have come in by the side door in the alley. They had slipped into the room with all the stealth and cunning of wild animals.

The lion padded across, swept books and papers off the desk and perched on the space he had cleared. Jonas could see that the mask was well made, fitting round the neck with a stockingette collar. Dark eyes gleamed at him through the slits. The bear had backed Aylett into a corner. He had a husky Midlander’s voice. A Merseysider, Jonas guessed. “Wassall this, Cyril?” he said. “Consulting the law. You don’t want a lawyer. What you want is a nurse, to smack your bottom when you have naughty thoughts.” As he said this he brought one arm across and caught Aylett a swipe on one side of the head which slammed him against the wall. As he threw up his hands to guard his face the bear kicked him in the stomach. Aylett folded forward on to his knees, retching.

Jonas half-rose in his chair. The lion said, “Siddown, Granpa, and behave yourself and doan get ideas.” He grabbed the telephone, jerked it off its cord and slammed the instrument back on to the desk.

The bear was standing over Aylett. He had grabbed his hair in one hand and bent his head back so that Aylett was forced to look up at him. He said, “Did my ears deceive me, Cyril, or did I hear you say something about making a statement? You wouldn’t do a thing like that, would you?”

Aylett managed to shake his head.

“That’s what I thought, because you know what happens to people who talk out of turn, don’t you?” When Aylett said nothing he slapped him across the face. There were rings on two of his fingers and they tore long gashes in his cheek.

“Stop it,” said Jonas.

The bear swung round on him. He said, “That’s a funny thing to say, isn’t it, Leo?”

“Very funny,” said the lion.

“He’s telling us to stop it, when we haven’t even started. When we’ve finished with Cyril, we’ll think up something special for you. Teach you to keep your nose out of other people’s business.”

The overhead light came on. Sam was standing in the doorway. He said, “What’s this? Circus time?”

It was clear that the bear recognised him. He said, “You keep out of this,” but a lot of the confidence had gone out of his voice.

“That’s no way to talk to an old friend,” said Sam. “Colley, innit? I thought it was. Used to be a bit of a boxer in your youth, I seem to remember. Let’s see some style.” He formed up to the bear as though he was facing him in the ring, then lashed out with his right foot, catching him on the knee. Jonas heard the kneecap crack. The bear let out a scream, went down on the floor and lay there nursing his knee and cursing.

Sam took no more notice of him. He turned his attention to the lion, who had removed himself from the corner of the desk and was standing beside it, clearly uncertain what to do next.

“You a boxer, too?” said Sam. “Or just a fighter?” He sidled up to him, presenting his left shoulder. The lion lashed out with one foot. Sam stepped aside, caught the lion’s foot in both hands and twisted it. The lion managed to grab the desk with one hand and started to hop. He had his back to Jonas who picked up the telephone and brought it down hard on the lion’s head. The lion went down without a sound.

“Really, Mr Pickett,” said Sam. “That’s no way to treat Post Office property.”

Jonas said, “Thank you, Sam.” He was surprised to find he could speak at all. “You’d better get the police. Use the phone in Claire’s room.”

“I rang ’em before I came in,” said Sam. “I think that’s them coming now.”

“I take it,” said Queen, “that you’ll be preferring charges.”

“Certainly. And in case there’s any doubt about who said what, I might mention that I already had the recorder switched on to get Aylett’s statement. The whole scene’s on tape.”