Death of a Bovver Boy (10 page)

‘Oh yes. That's what you said. But if he didn't,
who did,
Swindleton?'

‘Why d'you keep on at me? I've told you that's all forgotten.'

‘By the Law?'

‘Well, it ought to be. I've got a clean sheet now. It's only when someone like you comes along and tries to mess it up I get jumpy. June here will tell you…'

‘No she won't,' said June. ‘You can both leave me out of this.'

‘Well, she ought to tell you, after all I've done for her, the ungrateful bitch.'

‘Actually,' June said with that infuriating tone that people adopt for the word. ‘Actually I do think you're
wasting your time, Carolus. This one hasn't the guts to kill a bluebottle, and I don't mean a policeman.'

‘Of course he's wasting his time. Haven't I told him so?'

‘You're not very convincing, either of you. Why not suggest another line of enquiry?'

‘I'll do that,' said Swindleton. ‘Try a woman called Bodmin.'

It seemed that June was surprised.

‘Bodmin? D'you mean little Liz's mother?'

‘Certainly I do. Didn't Dutch used to run round with the child?'

‘Yes. But what…'

‘You don't need to make a show of puzzling your brains—either of you. I know Mrs Bodmin.'

‘I suppose it was her sent you to pester me?'

‘No. As a matter of fact it wasn't. She suggested quite a different line of enquiry. But she knows you, I gather from that?'

‘You gather something from everything. I've never seen the woman in my life. Not that I know of. I've only heard of her as being a fair old cow, letting her child run about the streets all day.'

Carolus stood up.

‘There's only one more thing,' he said to Swindleton. ‘Can you ride a motor-bike?'

‘Can I? What's this in aid of? What d'you want to know for?' asked Swindleton rising to the question as Carolus thought he would. ‘I haven't had a motorbike for fifteen years or more.'

‘I asked you if you could ride one?'

Swindleton flushed with fury said—‘I don't bleeding know. I haven't tried—or not for donkey's years.'

‘It's not a thing one forgets,' said Carolus coolly. ‘Goodbye Mr Swindleton. Goodbye … June is it?'

‘June Mockett,' said the girl pronouncing the syllables with decision.

‘Of course. That's it. Goodbye, June.'

A
motor-bike came to a noisy halt in front of Carolus's house in Newminster and the rider pulled it up on its stand. Then two very strange-looking young men advanced to the front door.

Uncombed, and it would appear uncombable hair leaked down from under their crash-helmets which were ornamented with skull-and-crossbone designs crudely painted. It was impossible to distinguish their faces behind the eye-shields they wore.

Carolus heard the front door bell ring and a few minutes later Mrs Stick appeared in a state which might be called ‘put out' ‘upset' ‘in a huff' or simply ‘indignant'.

‘I won't let them in!' she said. ‘If you could see them, sir!'

‘I can. I have,' said Carolus.

‘It's not their dirty boots I mind, but they shouldn't be allowed in the house, not whatever you're trying to find out from them. They're not fit. I told them, I said, yes, Mr Deene's in, I said, but I don't suppose for a minute he'll see you, I said. They've got hair down their backs and I don't know what to think, whether they've come to stick a knife in you or whether they're what they call impersonators.'

‘Surely you're used to the hair-styles of young men by this time, Mrs Stick?'

‘Hair-styles I may be, but not looking like someone in a fair. How do we know we shan't have fleas in the furniture if they once get inside?'

‘All right,' said Carolus. ‘I'll take the responsibility. You needn't speak to them again.' He went out to the front door. ‘I take it you're Phil White and Des Grayne? Come in. I was expecting you.'

‘You were?' said Des as they came into the sitting-room. ‘How come?'

They began to take off their outer protective clothing and dropped pieces of black macintosh into a corner of the room.

‘Just a hunch, perhaps,' said Carolus. ‘On the other hand you must have heard that I've seen Swindleton.'

They nodded rather solemnly.

‘Yeh. We heard,' said Phil.

‘What d'you want to tell me?'

There was great embarrassment on the faces of both of them, but finally the one called Des managed to get out what he wanted to say.

‘If we was to come clean and tell you what we know, are you going to run to the Law and tell them?'

‘Probably,' said Carolus. ‘The police will have to be told if you've any material information.'

‘What about pot? I mean if it had nothing to do with Dutch? What I mean is, if what we tell you helps to find out about Dutch, do you need to mention anything about Swindleton selling pot?'

‘Look here,' said Carolus, cutting short these complicated hypotheses. ‘I suggest you leave it to me. I shan't involve either of you in any enquiries except the identification of Dutch's murderer, or murderers. I don't know what you've got to tell me but I think
you'll be safe in my hands. That's about all I can say till I know the rest.'

Des still wasn't satisfied.

‘I mean you're not going to think because we grow our hair a bit long and one thing and another we have to be the ones who did Dutch, are you? See, we've got something to tell you which looks bad for us. You won't jump to any conclusions just because some of our sort have got into trouble?'

‘I certainly won't pre-judge the situation. Perhaps you'd better go ahead?'

They exchanged glances and Carolus saw a nod pass between them.

‘It's like this,' began Des. “Bout a week before Dutch disappeared we were asked something by that slimy bastard Swindleton. Nothing very much but … You tell him Phil.'

‘He wanted us to give Dutch a good going over. Said Dutch had let him down in some way. Wanted it done properly to leave marks and that so as he wouldn't think so much of himself with Jenny Rivers and Lotta. Anyway that's what he said.'

‘And you agreed?'

‘Give us a chance,' said Des. ‘You haven't heard it all yet. He offered us fifty quid each.'

‘Quite a lot of money,' said Carolus.

‘I'll say. But it wasn't so much the money, only we weren't feeling so good about Dutch either. See, he'd … shall I tell him Phil?'

‘Go ahead.'

‘Well we'd been flogging pot for Swindleton and making a bit on the side. I don't take the stuff myself. Nor does Phil. It makes you spew, or it does me. But we didn't see any harm in getting rid of a few packets for Swindleton so long as he paid us for it. Then we found
he was telling us he hadn't received supplies and all he was doing was giving it to Dutch to get rid of, and Dutch seemed to have got all the customers. We were right needled about that so we told Swindleton we'd do him up properly and serve the poor bleeder right. Mind you, we wouldn't have done it if it wasn't for the pot.'

‘I thought Dutch was a friend of yours?'

‘Well, so he had been, I suppose in a way. Only fifty nicker each was good money for us, specially after what he'd been doing behind our backs.'

‘At all events you agreed.'

‘Not knowing what would come of it, mind you. Get that straight. We'd no idea anything else was going to happen to Dutch. All we was to do was give him a going over.'

‘Go on.'

‘There's a sort of a cellar under the Spook Club and a way out at the back into Ransome Street. But we didn't think of that. What Swindleton said was to get hold of Dutch when he came to the Club and take him downstairs. Then we were to give him a going over and when we'd done it to strip him off and tie him up. Then cut all his hair off.'

‘What was the idea of that?'

‘From what Swindleton said, it was to make Dutch look silly. I told you he'd told us Dutch had done him a dirty trick and he wanted to get his own back. He was going to take Jenny and Lotta down to the cellar to have a look at him like he was then. I didn't think much of that, but I'd heard of it being done before. Anyway we were getting fifty quid each so why should we worry?'

‘Why indeed, if it did not strike you as rather a cowardly thing to do.'

‘Well, I'm not saying it didn't afterwards, especially when we heard what had come of it. But we weren't to know. All we had to do was give Dutch a going over and tie him up.'

‘And cut his hair. Some of you seem to attach quite a lot of importance to that. Regular little Samsons, aren't you?
And
strip the poor little wretch so that Swindleton could make him feel a fool in front of his girls.

‘Yeh. I know. I've thought about it since. It wasn't what we ought to have done, I'll say that. But what I'm trying to say is that we didn't murder Dutch, or anything like it. Why we've come to you is that we heard you were investigating the whole thing and we didn't want to go to the Law. How were we to know what happened afterwards?'

‘What
did
happen afterwards?'

‘We don't know,' put in Phil, rather sulkily. ‘We left him there in the cellar and that was the last we knew.'

‘Was he all right then?'

‘He'd been done up. We'd done the job pretty thoroughly. But he was all right—shouting at us to untie him and not leave him there. He never lost consciousness or anything like that. I'd say he could have walked out of that cellar and no one would have known anything about it except for his hair being cut and a couple of black eyes. I suppose everyone's been like that at one time or another. I know I have.'

‘Did Swindleton give you your money?'

‘Yes. He started some kind of talk about next day when he'd been to the bank but we said it had to be then or we should take Dutch away with us.'

‘You didn't threaten to go to the police?'

‘What you think we are? Bleeding grass-hoppers?'

Carolus stopped him there. His interest in the philology of criminal slang was aroused.

‘What did you say?'

‘Grass-hoppers. Shoppers,' said Des.

‘So that's the origin of “grass”. I thought it was “snake in the grass”. Go on.'

‘Soon as we said that, about taking Dutch away, he paid up.'

‘And that's all you know?'

‘Except that next day we asked Jenny and Lotta whether Swindleton had taken them down to the cellar and they said no.'

‘Why do you think Swindleton wanted you in, then? Why couldn't he do it himself?'

‘Too yellow. Ten to one Dutch would have given him a hiding if he'd tried.'

‘Are you saying that a man as cowardly as that actually
murdered
Dutch?'

‘Could have. When he was tied up. But I'm not saying that. I shouldn't be surprised if it wasn't someone else altogether.'

‘What makes you think that?'

‘The hundred nicker, for one thing. Swindleton's never been free with money. My idea, it was someone else's money he was giving us.'

‘Anything else?'

‘I've never known Swindleton want to get back on anyone, certainly not Dutch. Dutch has always been his blue-eyed bleeding boy. It was quite a laugh among the lads.'

‘But who else could have wanted Dutch “done up” as you so expressively put it, except Swindleton?'

‘Lots of people. His old man, for one. His old man was always on about Dutch living off him and not bringing home any bread. Or his old woman. Dutch
told that West Indian she lives with what he thought of him once. The two had got it in for him.'

‘What about Leng the organist? Or his friend Skilly?'

‘I wouldn't be surprised,' said Des. ‘Though I can't actually think of a reason why they might. Dutch could be very saucy when he liked and one of them might have taken offence. But I'll tell you who it could have been, quite easily. One of the skinheads. Gil Bodmin and those.'

‘I should have thought they would do it themselves if they wanted to do it at all.'

‘Not if they didn't want it blamed on them. Anyone in this town would know that the first people anyone would think of for beating up Dutch were the skinheads.'

‘I've heard a lot about Dutch's brother Roger,' Carolus went on. ‘Do you think he might have had some sort of a grudge?'

‘Quite likely. He's a smarmy sort of creep. But I don't know of any reason.'

‘You know,' Carolus said seriously. ‘We seem to be considering only the men. It occurs to me that one of the women who knew Dutch might have got Swindleton to arrange it. Dutch's stepmother, as she would like to be called, for instance?'

‘That Farnham bitch, you mean? I don't put it past her but where would the hundred nicker come from in that case? Same with Liz Bodmin's mother. But it could be some of the girls from the Spook Club. One of them who was in the money from pushing, or something.'

‘It doesn't sound like a young girl, having a boy of sixteen or seventeen beaten and tied up.'

‘I don't know. What about his hair? It would take a
girl to think of that bit. Girls are always on to us to have short haircuts.'

‘That seems to leave only two probabilities. The first is Swindleton himself. He struck me as a mean and spiteful type. It could well be he felt a vicious sort of vengefulness against Dutch and was willing to pay you for what you did. From what you have admitted most of the money would come back to him, anyway.'

‘Yes, I suppose it could be Swindleton,' said Phil, ignoring the last sentence. ‘But we've told you we don't think it was. What's your last probability?'

‘You yourselves,' said Carolus without hesitation. ‘Even if you didn't kill Dutch, all this story about Swindleton having paid you to beat him up might be so much balloney. I don't say it is, but it could be.'