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.Martland and Mrs.Asseltine — to be absolutely thorough.”“Well.” Crossin leaned back slowly in his chair and smiled coyly at his sergeant.“By all means be thorough.”“Yes, certainly.I intend to, sir.” Setter tried to ignore the heat that had crept up his face.“Give me the receipt for the photographs.” The older man was back to business.“I’ll pass it through somehow.We can only pray that this is not just a trip down the garden path —”“I wouldn’t suggest this expenditure of department time if it wasn’t absolutely essential, sir.We need to confirm whose button this is and when it was dropped in Martland’s office.”Crossin pursed his lips and nodded.“Agreed.Oh, by the way, I persuaded Smithers to drop his transfer application.”“His transfer? — I didn’t — is that right? —”“Blast.He didn’t tell you, did he?”“Well, sir,” Setter began quickly gathering up his notes, “There’s no requirement for him to tell me.Things like that are entirely his own business.” He tucked the sheaf of notes under his arm and headed for the door.“Steady on, Setter.The point is the lad wants to stay with you.There was just —”“No.Really, sir.No explanation necessary.Shall I have these notes transcribed for the file?”“Look — yes.Go ahead —” Setter was out the door before he could finish.Crossin sighed and looked at a framed portrait on his desk.“Mrs.Crossin, your husband needs to think before he speaks.”The brethren milled around folding their aprons and helping themselves to strong tea from three large, squat teapots.The worshipful master had more than once wondered if such an early meeting caused the members to yearn more for their dinners than for the perfection of the Masonic craft.Still, the men of Northern Light Lodge no.63 often had business to attend to later in the evening and an early meeting time was their decided preference.The master had been rewarded tonight with a most commendable turnout.He saw Frank Martland’s greeting from across the room and responded with a dignified and condoling inclination of the head.Martland reciprocated and tucked his regalia case under his arm.He caught a glimpse, through the crowd, of the dark, military-style frogged tunic and peaked cap of the chief constable and steered in his direction, shaking a hand here and receiving a solicitous pat on the shoulder there.The news about the murder had been leaking out to an ever-widening circle and had finally furnished the headline for the late afternoon edition of the Free Press.The chief, too, was working his way through the crowd.He paused for a few moments of earnest conversation with one group then detached himself and moved on to the next.Martland kept him in view and slowly gained on him.“Good evening, Chief,” Martland said as he grabbed the chief’s hand.“Martland — Frank — grand to see you.” The chief lowered his voice slightly.“I hope you’ve got the wind back in your sails after that terrible shock.”“Thank you, Angus.My employees are quite shaken, but I’ve got the office functioning at least.And thank you again for personally giving me the news.I know how busy you are.”“Not at all.A crime like this — a prominent man — needs delicate handling and reassurance.Decent people need to know that they’re safe in their beds at night.”“But are they, Angus?” Martland drew him a little apart from the rest.“When I got home from the office Monday I had to put up with a visit from one of your sergeants.Setter, I think he said his name was.Indian fellow.”The chief rumbled in his throat and nodded.“Ah, yes?”“Asked me a lot of questions,” Martland said, “and then insisted on pawing through my closets, for heaven’s sake.And now I’ve just heard that the killer has been granted bail! I was shocked, I can tell you.”The chief took an involuntary step backward.“News travels quickly.” He closed the gap again.“But then perhaps you heard from your son?”Martland sighed and nodded his head.“I know.Trevor put up the bail money.Cut me to the quick that did.But a father’s wishes don’t seem to count for much when there’s a pretty face involved.”“Oh, was that it?” The chief smiled.“An angel of mercy, I suppose.Well, Frank, children go their own way these days.But if it had been up to me the fellow would have stayed in my jail until the call from the hangman.”“Quite right, too.There’s more of these kinds of people coming into the city every day.And Jews — and now these people from Galicia.” Martland looked around to see if others were listening.“Shite from the manure pile of Europe, Angus.We have to make a stand for British justice or they’ll swamp us.People want this McEvoy fellow to pay for what he did and believe me, we appreciate your leadership in these matters.”“Thank you, Frank, I’m just trying to do —”“No, no, you’re too modest.” Martland took the chief by the elbow and drew him into the empty cloak room.In a hushed voice he continued.“You’d make a fine mayor, Angus, and I’m not the only man here that thinks so.There are seven or eight of us who would back you to the hilt.”“Well, Frank, I don’t know what to say.” The chief’s chest expanded, and the ribbons trailing from the frogs on his tunic stirred.“I really haven’t given the matter much thought.But I suppose if you and the others feel I could make a contribution —”“The election is six months away — plenty of time — and I’m sure we can run a strong campaign for you.”The chief looked pained.“The thing is, Frank, I would feel duty-bound to resign my present position in order to run.And then if I lose —”“If you lose, which you’re not going to do, every man here would jump at the chance to use your talents.I’d like to speak to one or two of our friends about this, if you’d allow me.Get a committee rolling, that sort of thing.”The chief leaned in closer to Martland and his voice dropped almost to a whisper.“I have had conversations with one or two people, just in a hypothetical way, you understand —”“Good work, Angus,” Martland said.“Now, the next step is for you to get this McEvoy business settled.Let the city see you at your best.”The chief drew himself up to his full height.“Well, I’ve always been four square for the law, Frank.We won’t have quiet streets unless we can demonstrate to the criminal classes that we are prepared to deal firmly with them.”“That’s what we’ve been waiting to hear.Keep talking like that, Angus, and the mayor’s gavel is as good as yours.” Martland grabbed the chief by the shoulders and looked him in the eyes.The chief found himself caught in the intense blue gaze of the other man.“I know you won’t let us down,” Martland said.After taking his leave the chief walked down the steps of the Masonic hall slowly, feeling for the next step with his outstretched foot.At the bottom of the steps he smiled and lifted his face up to catch the early evening sun.He set out for home, walked several paces, stopped, and then turned back toward the Central Police Station.15.Supper at the Colony Café had not been a success.The little corner place had smelled inviting but the plates set before them contained gluey mashed potatoes and overcooked chops afloat in grease.Peter had barely touched his and, in fact, had left the table abruptly.The meal now sat like a par-boiled hockey puck in his stomach as Charles ushered Peter back through the front door at Mrs.Gough’s.An evening in the parlour.A long evening.He had never had much time to sit around at home but he couldn’t very well drag Peter along to his hospital visits or evening meetings [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]