Assuredly there was was an array of formidable talent lined up in the super’s office on that grey August evening. It required the impression of seating accommodation from several other departments and it was sad to see so many men of such lustre crammed together like constables at a compulsory lecture. As far as sheer superiority of rank was concerned, the home team had a clear advantage. They were led by the Chief Constable of Northshire, Sir Daynes Broke, CBE, ably supported by his Assistant CC, Colonel Shotover Grout, DSO, MC, with the redoubtable flanks of Superintendent Symms and Inspector Copping. But rank, of course, wasn’t everything. There was a matter of quality also, and in this respect, to judge from their attitude, the visiting team felt themselves to have the edge. They were four in number, a sort of Special commando unit. Their ranks comprised Detective Sergeants Drill and Nickman, as dour a pair of bloodhounds as ever signed reports; their lieutenant was Chief Inspector Lasher, a man who had earned the hearty dislike of a select list of international organizations. But it was their No. 1 who really set the seal on the outfit. You could feel his presence through six-inch armour plate. He was a comparatively small man with a large squarish head and blue eyes that glowed hypnotically, as though lit by the perpetual and unfaltering generation of his brain. His name was Chief Superintendent Gish and the date of his retirement had been set aside by the entire world of espionage as one for public holiday and heartfelt rejoicing.
Between these two mighty factions Gently, the lonely representative of the Central Office, felt somewhat in the character of a light skirmisher. He’d got a nuisance value, they would probably concede him that, but otherwise he was merely there as a point of reference. So he squeezed himself into a seat behind Detective Sergeant Nickman, and contented himself with issuing entirely unauthorized smoke-rings.
Chief Superintendent Gish said: ‘I want to impress on everybody concerned the urgency and importance of our mission down here. We have sent you a certain amount of information already to assist you in the homicide investigation… we’ve got your man for you and I take it you have prepared a case against him. If you haven’t, it doesn’t matter because we can put him away ourselves on a certain charge of sabotage. The importance and urgency of this business lies elsewhere and it’s that I want to talk about.’
He paused, not so much for comment as to drive home his conviction that comment was superfluous. Gently puffed a sly ring over Detective Sergeant Nickman’s right ear. There was a general silence on all fronts.
‘Very well, gentlemen,’ continued Superintendent Gish, his floor confirmed. ‘Now it must certainly have occurred to you, though possibly you have been unable to trace it, that Streifer has received assistance in what he did here. The circumstances of the crime as they are known to me leave no doubt about that. They are typical of the organized killing, the sort that we of the Special Branch are all too familiar with. Now that in itself is an important and urgent matter, but it becomes doubly so in the light of what I am about to tell you.
‘The TSK Party came into existence shortly after the war. Officially it has no connection with the authorities on the other side of the Curtain, but I don’t have to tell you that it wouldn’t have thrived so long as it has done without connivance, and probably assistance, from the gentlemen over the way. It contains a strong Trotskyite element, which no doubt accounts for the nomenclature, but it pursues its aims not by assassination — though it isn’t above it — but by extraordinarily well-executed sabotage.
‘We first came across it in Yugoslavia. Later on it turned up in Czechoslovakia, Western Germany, France and the Suez Canal Zone. Three years ago the FBI were considerably shaken up to find it active and flourishing in the States — not just one or two agents but a complete organization, with some very dangerous contacts inside two atomic research stations. Fortunately they got on to them in time and pretty well stamped them out, though if this little affair is anything to go by the TSK still have a foot-hold over there. In the suitcase Streifer was carrying there were $1,000,000 in counterfeit bills.
‘Over here our first brush with them occurred at about the same time. They suborned a couple of atomic research physicists and when the balloon went up, I regret to say that they succeeded in getting one of them out of the country. After that we had the sabotage trouble down at Portsmouth in which Streifer was identified as the agent. There was nothing else then for some time. But about a year ago, as you may remember, a rash of naval sabotage broke out from Scapa down to Plymouth and it didn’t take us long to discover that the TSK were back, this time in some strength. In fact, gentlemen, they had built an organization over here, an organization similar, though perhaps not so extensive, as the one they had built in the States.
‘I need hardly mention that we have left no stone unturned to get at grips with this organization. Chief Inspector Lasher and myself were assigned to the task and we have pursued every opening and lead with the not inconsiderable resources at our command. We have had some success. We have arrested and deported or imprisoned a round half-dozen of agents. But we have never been able to locate the centre, the headquarters of the organization — there are never any lines back to it. The men we arrested wouldn’t talk, and the impression I received after personal interrogation was that they didn’t know anyway.
‘Of course, we’ve had theories about it. We decided early on that it was probably on the east coast. Here there’s some little traffic with the other side — cargo-boats trade in and out of the ports, fishing-boats operate off-shore, liners like the Ortory touch in on some pretext or another. It seemed logical to give the east coast preference. And knowing the sort of people we were up against, we didn’t necessarily expect to find it in an obvious centre such as Newcastle or Hull. We felt it was much more likely to turn up in a smaller place, an innocent-seeming place… a holiday resort like Starmouth, gentlemen, with its perpetual comings and goings, its absorption with visitors, its easy-going port and fleet of fishing vessels…’
Chief Superintendent Gish dwelt fondly on his theory, as though he enjoyed its sweet reasonableness. But he had got the opposition in a raw spot. There were underground growlings from Colonel Shotover Grout, an aggressive cough from Superintendent Symms and finally the home team found its voice in an exclamation by its illustrious leader:
‘But good God, man, there’s nothing like that in Starmouth!’
‘Indeed, Sir Daynes?’ Chief Superintendent Gish looked bored.
‘No, sir. Quite impossible! The Borough Police Force is one of the most efficient in the country, including the Metropolitan, and the crime figures for this town, sir, bear comparison with those of any similar town anywhere. We harbour no criminal organizations in Starmouth, political or otherwise. Starmouth is by way of being a model of a respectable popular resort.’
‘Here, here!’ grumbled Colonel Shotover Grout chestily. ‘You are mistaken, sir, gravely mistaken.’
‘I’m not prepared to say,’ added Sir Daynes generously, ‘that Starmouth is completely free from undesirable activity. There are features — ahem! — moral features which we would gladly see removed. But that is an evil common to this sort of town, sir, and under the present limitations forced upon the police of this country we have not the power to stamp it out, though we keep it rigidly in check. Apart from this I may safely say that Starmouth is an unusually orderly and well-policed town. I assure you that nothing of the sort you describe could establish itself here without our knowledge.’
‘Quite impossible, sir!’ rumbled the colonel, ‘you don’t know Starmouth.’
Chief Superintendent Gish let play his hypnotic blue eyes from Sir Daynes to the colonel, and back again to Sir Daynes. ‘And yet you wake up one morning to find a TSK agent and saboteur lying stabbed on your beach,’ he commented steelily.
‘It was hardly in our province to have prevented it!’ came back Sir Daynes. ‘If agents and saboteurs are permitted such easy entry into this country, then responsibility for their misdeeds must lie elsewhere than with the Starmouth Borough Police.’
‘I agree, Sir Daynes. My point is that the Starmouth Borough Police knew nothing of their presence until a dead body turned up.’
‘And the Special Branch, sir, knew nothing of their presence until informed by the Starmouth Borough Police.’
‘With some Central Office assistance.’
‘Invoked in the common round of our duty.’
There was a silence-at-arms, each mighty antagonist feeling he had struck an equal blow. Chief Superintendent Gish appeared to be putting the super’s desk calendar into a trance. Sir Daynes Broke was giving his best performance of an affronted nobleman. Gently, after waiting politely for the launching of some fresh assault, improved the situation by relighting his pipe and involving Detective Sergeant Nickman in a humanizing haze of Navy Cut.
‘You’ll have to admit,’ continued Chief Superintendent Gish at length, ‘that Streifer received assistance in killing Stratilesceul.’
‘I admit nothing of the sort,’ countered Sir Daynes warily.
‘What other interpretation can be put on the facts? Is there any doubt that his hands were tied?’
‘One man can tie another’s hands, Superintendent.’
‘He can if the other will submit to it.’
‘Streifer had a gun when he was arrested. Why should he not have threatened Stratilesceul into submission?’
‘Have you ever tried tying the hands of a man you are threatening with a gun, Sir Daynes?’
‘He could have bludgeoned him.’
‘There were no head injuries.’
‘Or drugs, perhaps.’
‘Where would he obtain such drugs at short notice, supposing he could have induced Stratilesceul to take them? No, Sir Daynes, it won’t do. Streifer wasn’t on his own. He found help here, in this town, and help for the like of Streifer can only come from one source.’
‘That source, sir, need not be in Starmouth. You have offered no certain grounds for your assumption that it is in Starmouth. Since TSK agents proliferate to such an amazing extent in this country I see no reason why Streifer, having followed Stratilesceul to Starmouth, should not have summoned one of them to his assistance. He had time enough. The murder was not committed till almost a week after Stratilesceul arrived.’
‘It is possible, Sir Daynes, but that is all one can say for it.’
‘As possible as your own hypothesis, and a good deal more probable.’
‘I beg to differ. If I thought otherwise I should not be here.’
‘Then, sir, there is little doubt that you have made a fruitless journey.’
‘We will defer judgment until we see the results, Sir Daynes. I do not propose to be deflected from my object.’
At this point an interruption became a diplomatic necessity and it was fortunate that Colonel Shotover Grout, who had been preparing himself with a great deal of throat work, chose the slight pause which ensued for his cue.
‘I suppose we can have the fella in — question him — see what he has to say himself about the business?’
They both turned to regard the colonel with unanimous unamiability.
‘I mean he’s the one who knows — can’t get away from that.’
Chief Superintendent Gish gestured. ‘Of course he has been questioned. The results were as anticipated. You’ll get nothing out of Streifer.’
‘But simply as a formality, y’know-’
‘This type of man never talks.’
A light of battle gleamed in Sir Daynes’s eye. ‘Symms!’ he exclaimed, ‘be good enough to have our prisoner brought in, will you?’
Superintendent Symms hesitated a moment, catching the Special Branch chief’s petrifying glance.
‘What are you waiting for, man?’ rapped Sir Daynes, ‘didn’t you hear what I said?’
‘I can assure you,’ interrupted Chief Superintendent Gish, well below zero, ‘that Streifer has been thoroughly and scientifically interrogated without the least success-’
‘Superintendent Gish,’ cut in Sir Daynes, ‘I feel obliged to point out that Streifer is required by this authority to answer a charge of murder and that however high the Special Branch may privately rate sabotage, in the official calendar it is homicide which takes pride of place. Streifer has been brought here primarily to answer such a charge and I propose to make it forthwith. I suppose’ — a sudden note of unease crept into his voice — ‘I suppose a case has now been made out on which a charge can be based, Symms?’
The super looked at Copping, and Copping looked at Gently. Gently nodded and puffed some smoke at Detective Sergeant Nickman’s long-suffering ear.
‘Very well, then — have him brought in, Symms!’
Streifer was produced in handcuffs, presumably on the strength of his record — he certainly looked subdued enough, being prodded into the crowded office. He was a man of forty or forty-two, dark hair, dark eyes, slanting brows, a long, straight nose and a small thin-lipped mouth. He wore a well-cut suit of dark grey and had an air of refinement, almost of delicacy, about him. The only thing suggesting something else was the long, crooked scar which stretched lividly down his right cheek, beginning under the temple and trailing away at the angle of the jaw.
Colonel Shotover Grout gave a premonitory rumble. ‘Cuffs, sir — take it they’re absolutely necessary?’
Chief Superintendent Gish spared him a look of hypnotic pity.
‘Remove them,’ ordered Sir Daynes crisply. ‘There would appear to be sufficient men with police training present to render the step unperilous.’
The cuffs were removed. A chair was drafted in. With a shorthand constable at his elbow Sir Daynes levelled a model charge and caution at the silent Streifer, inasmuch as he had, on the twelfth instant, with malice aforethought, stabbed to death one Stephan Stratilesceul, alias Max.
The baby being passed to Streifer, he simply shook his head.
‘You don’t wish to make a statement?’
‘No.’ His voice was harsh but not unpleasant.
‘You realize the invariable penalty annexed to a conviction of homicide in this country?’
‘I am not… unacquainted.’
‘It is a capital offence.’
‘Ah yes — England hangs.’
‘Yet you still do not wish to say anything in your own defence?’
Streifer shrugged his elegant shoulders. ‘Have you proof of this thing?’
‘We have a very good case.’
‘Enough to drop me into your pit?’
‘To convict you — yes.’
‘Then what should I say? Have you a confession for me to sign?’
The chief constable frowned. ‘We don’t do things that way. You may anticipate perfectly fair proceedings in this country. We have a case against you, but you are perfectly free to defend yourself. What you say will be equally considered with what we say in the court in which you will be tried.’
‘Then I shall plead that I am innocent. What more will be necessary?’
‘It will be necessary to prove it — as we shall seek to prove our contentions.’
Streifer smiled ironically and cast a deliberate glance round the assembled company. ‘What pains you take! In my country we are more economical. But let me hear these contentions of yours. I have no doubt that your scrupulous system permits it.’
Sir Daynes signalled to the super, who once more communicated with Gently by the medium of Copping. Gently, however, having produced a crumpled sheet of paper, elected to pass it back to the seat of authority. The super straightened it out hastily and began to read.
‘We can show that the accused, Olaf Streifer, is a member of a revolutionary party known as the TSK and that he is a member of the Maulik or secret police appertaining to that party and that previous to the present instance he has illicitly entered this country for the purpose of forwarding the aims of that party by criminal process.
‘We can show that the murdered man, Stephan Stratilesceul, was also a member of the TSK party, and that he was similarly engaged in forwarding its aims.
‘We can show that, on Tuesday, 5 August, Stephan Stratilesceul entered this country as a fugitive from the Polish liner Ortory, which liner was at that time breaking at Hull a voyage from Danzig to New York, and that he was pursued ashore by Streifer, and that he escaped in the trawler Harvest Sea, which brought him to Starmouth where he was landed on the morning of Wednesday, 6 August.
‘We can show that Streifer also arrived in Starmouth, date unknown, and that he took up quarters in a deserted house known as “Windy Tops”, and that he traced Stratilesceul to lodgings he had taken at 52 Blantyre Road.
‘We can show that on Tuesday, 12 August, at or about 22.00 hours, Stratilesceul proceeded in a hired car to “Windy Tops” in the company of a prostitute named Agnes Meek, alias Frenchy, and that he was not again seen alive.
‘We can show that his naked body, bearing four stab-wounds of which two would have been instantly fatal, as well as burns made before death, suggesting that he had been subject to torture, was washed ashore between the Albion and Wellesley Piers some time before 05.10 hours on Wednesday, 13 August, and that the time of death was estimated as being five or six hours previous, and that in the state of the tides and the offshore current then prevailing a body introduced into the sea near “Windy Tops” at or about 24.00 hours Tuesday would, with great probability, be washed ashore at the time and place at which Stratilesceul’s body was washed ashore.
‘We can show that following Stratilesceul’s murder, burglary was committed by Streifer at 52 Blantyre Road in the hope of recovering a suitcase containing a quantity of counterfeit United States Treasury notes, but that his purpose was frustrated by a previous burglary committed by Jeffery Algernon Wylie and Robert Henry Baines on information received from Agnes Meek.
‘We can show that Streifer eventually traced the suitcase to its hiding-place under the Albion Pier, that he recovered it, that he substituted for it a brown paper package containing the clothes worn by the deceased at the time of his death, and that he caused the attention of the police to be drawn to the part played by Wylie and Baines, presumably in order to mislead the investigations.’ (Here the super seemed smitten by a troublesome cough and the chief constable sniffed rather pointedly.)
‘We can show, finally, that the piece of brown paper used to wrap the clothes of the deceased is identical in composition with a sheet of brown paper discovered at “Windy Tops”, this sheet forming part of the packing of a mattress acquired for his own use by Streifer, also discovered at “Windy Tops”, and that the torn edges of the one piece match exactly the torn edges of the other piece.’
The super halted and laid down his sheet of paper.
‘Excellent!’ chimed in the colonel, aside. ‘First-class case — magnificent phrasing!’
Chief Superintendent Gish turned his head sideways, as though he felt it unnecessary to turn it any further. ‘What a pity,’ he said to Gently behind, ‘what a pity you couldn’t have made it water-tight.’
Gently issued a quiet ring at Detective Sergeant Nickman’s plastic collar-stud.
‘When you’ve done so well… not to be able to show that Streifer was in Starmouth at the time of the murder.’
‘What’s that?’ barked Sir Daynes, ‘Not here at the time of the murder? I fail to follow you, sir, I completely fail to follow you!’
‘Oh, I dare say you’ll get a conviction.’ The chief superintendent came back off his half-turn. ‘The rest of it’s so strong that it’s almost bound to carry the day. But as I said, it’s a pity that you have to admit a phrase like “date unknown” against the important event of Streifer’s arrival in Starmouth… his defence are bound to be time-wasting and oratorical about it.’
Sir Daynes stared murder, and the chief superintendent stared it back.
‘Is this a fact?’ snapped the former at Gently. ‘We have just heard it read,’ chipped in the chief super scathingly.
Gently raised a calculating eyebrow. ‘How long,’ he mused, ‘how long would you say it would take a man — even supposing he was a confirmed anchovy addict — to eat five average-size tins of anchovies?’
‘Anchovies!’ exploded Sir Daynes, ‘what the devil have anchovies got to do with it, man?’
Gently shook his head. ‘I was going to ask Streifer that, if he had been feeling more communicative. But there were five empty tins in his waste-bucket at “Windy Tops” and I find it difficult to believe that he consumed one whole tin each tea-time for five days together…’
‘It isn’t proof,’ whipped in the chief super, razor-sharp.
‘No, it isn’t proof… just a curious example of devotion to anchovies. On the whole,’ added Gently mildly, ‘I was rather glad to find that a gentleman named Perkins, an employee at Starmouth Super Furnishings, was able to remember selling the mattress to a person resembling Streifer as early as Wednesday, 6 August…’
The dust died down and Sir Daynes, full of beans, returned to the problem of the reluctant Streifer.
‘You have heard the case against you. I think it is plain that it requires a better answer than mere silence. In your own interest, Streifer, I advise you to be as helpful as you can.’
‘In my own interest?’ Streifer gave a little laugh. ‘You are very kind people — very kind indeed! But what interest have I left when I am faced with this so-excellent case?’
‘You will not find the police ungrateful for any assistance you may be able to give them.’
‘Their gratitude would be touching. No doubt I should remember it with pleasure as I stood on your gallows.’
‘If you are innocent you can do no better than tell the whole truth. You are probably aware of other charges which will be preferred if you are acquitted on this one and I can say, on certain authority, that those charges will be dropped if you give us the assistance which we know to be in your power.’
‘And that would be the names of my associates in this country?’
‘Their names and all the information you possess about them.’
‘To turn traitor, in fact?’
‘To assist the ends of justice.’
Streifer laughed again and fixed his coal-black eyes on Sir Daynes. ‘Tell me,’ he said, ‘on this certain authority of yours — would it not be possible to forget Stratilesceul altogether if I gave this information?’
Sir Daynes jiffled impatiently, but the question pinned him down. ‘No,’ he admitted at last, ‘that charge is irrevocable, Streifer.’
‘But you could perhaps buy off the judge, or ensure that these quaint jurymen of yours returned a certain verdict?’
‘Quite impossible!’ rapped Sir Daynes, ‘understand once and for all that such courses are not followed in this country.’
‘And even if they were — even if I could be sure — even if you were to hand me a free pardon signed and sealed by your Queen herself — I would not betray the humblest comrade who marches with me towards the final liberation of mankind. That is my answer to you, the policemen. That is the only statement I wish to make. If you are just, as you claim you are just, you will take it down in writing and read it at my trial. But I have nothing more to say, excepting that.’
The silence which followed was slightly embarrassed. Sir Daynes seemed to freeze in his stern official look. Colonel Shotover Grout made rumbling noises, as though he thought the whole thing in very bad taste, and Superintendent Symms sniffed repeatedly in his superintendental way. It was the Special Branch Chief who spoke.
‘You see, Sir Daynes? This is the sort of thing we are up against at every turn… you may find criminals difficult to deal with, but believe me they are child’s play compared with fanatics.’
‘I cannot believe he will continue in this — this obstinacy,’ returned Sir Daynes, though his non-plussed tone of voice belied him, ‘his life is at stake, sir. Men will attempt their defence in however desperate a situation they find themselves.’
‘Not once they have become inoculated with creeds of this description,’ sneered the chief super. ‘They become intoxicated, Sir Daynes. They become tipsy with the most dangerous brand of aggrandizing delusion — political idealism. It means nothing for them to kill, and a triumph for them to die. We know these people. You had better let us handle them.’
Sir Daynes shook his head bewilderedly. ‘I must admit that it is something new in my experience… I feel somewhat at a loss.’ He glanced at the colonel. ‘What is your opinion, sir?’
‘Preposterous!’ grumbled the colonel half-heartedly, ‘unstable, sir… foreigners… unstable.’
‘Then, Sir Daynes, I take it you will make no further opposition to my investigations in this town.’
Sir Daynes pursed his lips. ‘If you think it is necessary it is my duty to give you every assistance.’
The chief super nodded in the comfortable consciousness of prevailed merit. ‘In effect I shall be taking over the present investigations at the point where your men and Chief Inspector Gently have left off. I shall want a full report from everyone engaged on the case and in addition I intend to conduct personal interrogations to bring to light points which may not hitherto have seemed important. Inspector Gently,’ — his head turned sideways again — ‘I have full authority to release you and your assistant from your duties here. Later on I should like to have a private chat with you and tomorrow you will be free to return to town.’
Gently nodded his mandarin nod and slowly removed his pipe from his mouth. ‘I’d like to make a point… if it isn’t interrupting the proceedings too much.’
The chief super’s head remained sideways in indication of his supreme patience.
‘One or two side-issues have cropped up in the course of my minor activities… I would have liked another day or two to tie them up.’
‘Unnecessary, Inspector Gently. They will certainly be taken care of.’
‘They concern,’ proceeded Gently absently, ‘the organization you are interested in disbanding.’
There was a silence in the crowded room. Nine pairs of eyes focussed with one accord on the man from the Central Office.
‘Of course… it’s not for me to suggest the line of further investigation… I don’t want to deflect the Special Branch from what it conceives to be its duty. But if they care to hold their horses for just a day or two, I feel I may be able to save them a certain amount of frustration.’
‘Come to the point, man!’ yapped Chief Superintendent Gish, proving for all time that his neck was fully mobile. ‘What is it you’re trying to say?’
‘I’m trying to say,’ replied Gently leisurely, ‘that I’m fully aware of the identity and whereabouts of the TSK leader in this country and you could arrest him this evening… if you thought it would do you any good.’