They went down to Police H.Q. and Gently took the call in Setters’ office. Pagram came on at the other end. He was eating something and talking with his mouth full.
‘You’ve dropped some dynamite,’ he said. ‘Down in Narcotics you’re the blue-eyed boy. That telephone number took them straight to the top man, a gent by the name of Leo Slavinovsky. They copped him bending with all the goods on him — and ten or a dozen of his associates. Don’t mind me, I’m catching up, I’m having a picnic in the office.’
‘Anything I can use?’ Gently asked.
‘I’d say it looks promising,’ Pagram said. ‘Slavinovsky’s premises are in Gumbrill Street, Bethnal. Wasn’t it Bethnal you had your eagle eye on?’
‘Yes, Bethnal.’ Gently nodded.
‘Well, the results are still coming in. They’ve got some interesting records from Slavinovsky’s safe which look like filling a few vacant cells. His set-up is definitely a Bethnal product. All the Cuthberts they’ve pulled in belong to that area. I’ve told them to check for connections with your wide boy at Latchford. I’m waiting now to hear from them. I’m eating canteen cheese rolls.’
‘You’ll have indigestion,’ Gently said.
‘A man must live,’ said Pagram. ‘Now you can hang up and let me finish. It’s difficult to drink, eat, and talk.’
Gently hung up, made himself comfortable to wait for the call back. Setters came in with the box and reefers which he’d found at Elton’s home. The box was a small one, a quarter-pound box, and of a different brand to those seized at Castlebridge. The reefers were of the same make. The box was empty except for the reefers.
Setters sat down beside the desk, lit a cigarette, drew heavily.
‘I’ve been thinking,’ he said. ‘It was painful, but I did it.’
‘About these?’ Gently said.
Setters nodded, drew some more.
‘It’s having you with me,’ he said. ‘I can’t keep it simple any longer. I keep being devious about everything, I want to come up with something clever. So though this rubs, I’ve got to say it. I think that crap is a plant.’
‘Mmn,’ Gently said. ‘Did you talk to Maureen?’
‘Yep,’ Setters said, ‘I talked to her. I think she knew Elton was smoking and I think she destroyed any sticks he left there. But I don’t think she planted these. There’s no single reason why she should. And she wouldn’t have planted them in the shed, but in his bedroom somewhere. It’s the shed angle that started me off, there’s no lock on the shed. You’ve only to hop over the fence, sneak up the path, and open the door.’
‘Was she there when you found them?’ Gently asked.
‘Yes,’ Setters said. ‘She was hanging around. I got the impression that she was surprised and didn’t like it very much. But she wouldn’t open up on it, other than swearing they weren’t hers. I think they were planted and she’s got a good idea about who did the planting.’
‘Bixley,’ Gently mused. ‘Or one of his side-kicks.’
‘From what you tell me,’ Setters said, ‘that would be the idea. I wouldn’t know if his grapevine told him about what Greenstone gave us, but if it did this could be an attempt to fasten the reefer-passing on Elton. So like that it might not have been Elton who was sitting at the table with Betty Turner. It might have been Bixley, and he’s got reasons for wanting to keep us from thinking that. Or maybe again he was just trying to make a scapegoat out of Elton, which attempt has now fallen through owing to what you saw at Castlebridge today.’
‘Have you rung the hospital today?’ Gently asked.
‘Yes, twice,’ Setters said. ‘She’s improving, she’s got her eyes open. But she isn’t talking yet.’
‘It might not have been her Greenstone saw,’ Gently said. ‘It might not have been Bixley or Elton with her. All Greenstone was certain about was Lister and him taking the serviette.’
‘And the sticks,’ Setters said. ‘Don’t forget he took them.’
Gently nodded. ‘It wasn’t very gallant of him to take his fiancee’s supply of reefers.’
‘Meaning?’ Setters asked.
‘Just a point,’ Gently said. ‘Because it might not have been Betty Turner who Greenstone saw. Perhaps Lister was deeper in this than we thought. Perhaps he took the reefers because the girl couldn’t pay for them. There may be an angle we haven’t got on to why he was ridden off the road.’
Setters looked doubtful. ‘I like it simple,’ he said. ‘That’s my natural-born instinct. If there was something else we’d have got a smell of it beyond all this surmising. We’re getting smoke blown in our eyes with this dope-peddling business. The fact is Elton had a motive, and I don’t see where anyone else has.’
‘Mmn.’ Gently conceded the point. ‘He’s certainly in it up to his eyeballs. Leach, the man they’ve arrested over at Castlebridge, was trying to help me keep it with Elton.’
‘You think he was lying?’
‘Like a trooper.’
‘It might have been the truth,’ Setters said.
‘He was lying,’ Gently affirmed. ‘Though it may have been only to oblige a customer. Bixley’s alibi isn’t cast iron. It’s just on the cards he caught up with Lister.’
‘But what was his motive?’ Setters asked.
Gently shrugged. ‘There’s none to date.’
‘I don’t like it,’ Setters said. ‘I wish to Christ we could pick up Elton.’
He lit another cigarette from his butt, smoked silently for a while. The station routine went on outside, voices, feet tramping, a telephone bell. Gently sat poring over the box and reefers, his eyes narrowed and unshifting. Setters sat hugging a bony knee, he’d got the visitor’s chair, it wasn’t comfortable.
‘There’s Dicky Deeming,’ Setters pondered. ‘Do you think he knows what goes on?’
Gently smiled at the box. ‘He plays the big brother,’ he said.
‘He’s got influence with them,’ Setters said. ‘You’ve only to talk to them to find that out. I don’t like him, I don’t like his influence, but he never bothers us.’
‘He’s their high priest,’ Gently said.
‘Yes?’ Setters said. ‘What would that be?’
‘Just high priest,’ Gently said, ‘the one who gives them the law.’
‘This jeebie stuff?’ Setters asked.
Gently nodded. ‘That’s it. It’s Dicky who’s spread the gospel in Latchford. It came to Latchford with Dicky.’
‘I knew I didn’t like him,’ Setters said. ‘I knew there had to be a reason. Hell, I’ll make it tough for Dicky — fetching that stinking stuff in here!’
No.’ Gently shook his head. ‘That’s the wrong sort of treatment. If you make a martyr out of Dicky you’ll play right into his hands. The cult has got a religious twist, it’ll flourish on persecution. So don’t knock it, don’t push it, just ignore it where you can.’
‘Pushing reefers,’ Setters said. ‘Riding bikes like madmen.’
‘That’s where you don’t ignore it,’ Gently said. ‘That’s where you clamp down hard. But don’t touch Dicky for the moment, let him amuse himself with me. His influence has got a credit side. He tries to keep his flock from being rowdy.’
Setters sniffed. ‘Are you on to him for something?’
‘I’m not quite certain,’ Gently said. ‘He’s in this business, and yet he’s detached from it. But he’s certainly on to me.’
‘You mean it was him who set it up today.’
‘He played a big part in it,’ Gently said. ‘But whether it was for devilment or for a reason is something I haven’t settled yet. Perhaps tomorrow’s paper will tell us.’
‘Yeah, perhaps,’ said Setters sourly.
‘He’s a beautiful rider,’ Gently said. ‘He’s got courage, a lot of that.’
The phone jangled. He picked it up. After a moment, Pagram came on.
‘This may seem a bit involved,’ Pagram began. ‘But it could be what you’re after. Does the name of Waters mean anything to you?’
‘Nothing whatever,’ Gently said.
‘Well, one of the chummies we’ve caught is called Waters and his mother was a Lemon.’
‘A Lemon?’ Gently queried.
‘Yes,’ Pagram said. ‘You still sound vague. But Cissie Lemon was his mother and she’s got a sister called Ruby. I’ve got some notes here from a P.C. Noble who swears he knows what he’s talking about.’
‘Go on,’ said Gently patiently.
‘We’re coming to it,’ Pagram said. ‘Now Cissie’s sister married a van driver, and this is where we get the connection. The van driver’s name was Arthur Bixley. I rather think he’s Sidney Bixley’s father.’
‘That’s the one,’ Gently said.
‘I thought it could be,’ Pagram said. ‘So like that Sidney is a cousin of Waters’, and Waters is a member of the Slavinovsky gang. Is that what you wanted?’
‘Roughly speaking,’ Gently said.
‘You were right about the cheese rolls,’ Pagram said. ‘I’m having one analysed down in the lab.’
Gently laid the phone on its rest. He pondered dreamily for a moment.
‘Can we get a search warrant done quickly?’ he asked. Setters nodded. ‘I’ve got one on tap.’
‘Right,’ Gently said. ‘We’re going to search Bixley’s house. And while we’re at it, I think we’d better have Bixley picked up for questioning.’
The Bixleys lived in a terrace house in Breck Hill Road, which lay on the furthest edge of the New Town Area. Though the houses were terraced they were neatly crow-stepped up a gentle rise and this gave to each one a faint air of individuality. The Bixleys lived at fifty-seven, more than halfway up. A light showed in their kitchen, which was situated at the front. Gently rang, and the door was opened by a bow-shouldered man in shirtsleeves. He looked startled to find three men on his doorstep.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘What are you after?’ He kept the door on the balance.
‘Police,’ Gently said. ‘Are you Mr Bixley?’
The bow-shouldered man seemed uncertain.
‘What are you after?’ he repeated. ‘If you want to talk to Sid, he isn’t in just now.’
‘We have a search warrant,’ Gently said, producing it. ‘I tell you Sid’s not here,’ said the man.
‘It’s made out for the premises,’ Gently said. ‘We’ll have to come in, Mr Bixley.’
The man frowned at it, looked puzzled, then backed away from the door. Gently entered with Setters and Ralphs. They stood in a small hall which contained the staircase.
‘You’ll have to wait a mo’,’ the man said. ‘Maybe Ruby ain’t respectable.’
He stuck his head round the kitchen door.
‘Right you are,’ he said.
They followed him into the kitchen. It was a small room with a coke-fired boiler. It contained a dining table, two old armchairs, three straight-back chairs and a television set. From one of the armchairs a woman had risen and she was hastily dragging on a skirt. She stared angrily at the intruders, shoving in her blouse with stumpy fingers.
‘Arter,’ she said. ‘What do you mean letting these men in here, Arter?’
Arter wagged his bow-shoulders. ‘I couldn’t help it, Ruby,’ he said. ‘They got a warrant and everything. I told them Sid wasn’t in.’
‘That ain’t no reason,’ Ruby said. ‘You don’t have to let them in like this.’
She was a big, formidable woman with arms like pale, freckled hams. She was a good deal larger than her husband. Her husband had a sad, colourless face.
Gently said:
‘I’m afraid we must inconvenience you, Mrs Bixley. We’ve reason to think that your son is concealing prohibited drugs in this house. We’ve come to search it, also I’d like to ask you some questions about him. The questions can wait, if you like, till you’ve watched us make the search.’
‘Ho,’ she said. ‘Well, you put it like a gentleman, don’t you?’
She eased the blouse out a little, buttoned it across her straining brassiere.
‘You won’t find nothing here,’ she said, ‘prying into all our little affairs. But you can look, that’s all right. Arter can see you don’t pinch nothing.’
Setters with Ralphs made a businesslike beginning in the kitchen, but apart from the built-in cupboards and a small pantry it contained few likely places of concealment. Setters poked the two armchairs and turned them over to inspect the springs. Ralphs moved a rug, trod heavily about the stained boards which formed the floor. Mrs Bixley watched them aggressively. Arter rolled himself a fag.
‘That’s about it,’ Setters said, after stirring in a flour-bin and replacing it.
Trailing Arter behind them, they went out to continue next door. Mrs Bixley repossessed an armchair, jerked a thumb at the other one.
‘You better sit down,’ she said to Gently. ‘Nothing like making yourselves at home. And there ain’t much I can tell you about our Sid what you don’t know already. You’re the Yard one, ain’t you?’
Gently nodded, sat himself.
‘Thought you were,’ said Mrs Bixley. ‘You got more savvy about you than them two. It ain’t the same down here like it is back home, they just ain’t got the know. Now what’s our Sid been up to this time?’
‘What we told you,’ Gently said. ‘And you know about it, don’t you, Mrs Bixley?’
‘If I did I’d be a fool to let on, wouldn’t I?’ she retorted. ‘But I ain’t saying I’m so blooming innocent. I’ve seen him have them reefers around. But cor love us, I ask you, what’s a thing like that to make a fuss over?’
‘When have you seen him have them around?’
‘When?’ She made her eyes round. ‘Do us a favour, I can’t remember the ins and outs like that. But I’ve caught him smoking one sometimes — pooh, I can’t stand that stink! I told him I wouldn’t have it in here, he’d have to do it somewhere else.’
‘You didn’t want to know where he’d got them?’
‘Don’t be silly,’ she said. ‘Where do kids always get them from — off each other, that’s where.’
‘They don’t make them themselves, Mrs Bixley.’
‘Didn’t say they did, did I? One of them buys them in a pub or a street corner or somewhere. You know how it is. They will go for these things. Me, I tried one when I was that age, it made me spew something rotten.’
‘How many have you seen him have at one time?’
‘Only the one,’ said Mrs Bixley. ‘Then it was the stink what made me notice it, I’d come in here and niff the stink.’
‘You haven’t seen him have a box of them?’
‘No I haven’t,’ she said.
‘Have you seen him with boxes of Melton chocolates?’
‘What, Sid?’ she said. ‘Do us a favour.’
Gently paused, let her think about that for a moment. In the next room they could hear the squeak of furniture being moved on linoleum. Mrs Bixley sat saggingly with her slippered feet placed apart, her elbows dug into the arms of the chair, her chin jutted out towards him.
‘How often do you hear from your sister, Cissie?’ Gently asked.
Her eyes jumped at him. Well,’ she said, ‘we know a few things, don’t we? And what’s Cissie got to do with it?’
‘Have you seen her lately?’ Gently asked.
‘Not since we come here,’ said Mrs Bixley. ‘And that was two years in August. Her and me don’t get on since that business about Mum’s furniture. Took the blinking lot, she did. And the sewing machine. And the canary.’
‘Too bad,’ Gently said. ‘When did you last see her son?’
‘Him,’ Mrs Bixley said scornfully. ‘We don’t have no truck with young Perce. A proper tulip he is, he takes after his old man. Our Sid would make two of him. Perce is a nasty bit of work.’
‘Were Sid and he pals?’
‘Yers, likely,’ said Mrs Bixley. ‘Well they were in a sort of way, when we was home in Bethnal. I reckon it was Perce who was to blame when Sid had his little bit of trouble. Led my boy on, he did. Sid’s all right if he’s left alone.’
‘How did Perce lead him into trouble?’ Gently asked.
Mrs Bixley rounded her eyes. ‘Go on,’ she said. ‘You know about that. You can’t tell a copper nothing about a boy who’s been in trouble.’
‘I’d like you to tell me,’ Gently said.
‘Here, what’s this?’ Mrs Bixley demanded. ‘All that there is over and done with, you can’t pin that on Sid again.’
‘Sid was a gang-boy,’ Gently said. ‘Was it Perce who introduced him to the gang?’
‘That’s as may be,’ said Mrs Bixley. ‘Just you leave Perce out of this.’
‘But that was what you meant, wasn’t it?’
‘Suppose it was.’ Mrs Bixley glared. ‘That’s finished with, that is. Why do you think we come out this way? So’s we could get Sid away from them lot, that’s the blinking reason for it.’
‘Have you heard of a man called Leo Slavinovsky?’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘So has everyone in Bethnal.’
‘In connection with Perce?’ Gently asked.
‘Never you mind,’ Mrs Bixley said.
‘He ran that gang, didn’t he?’ Gently said. ‘He ran it when Sid was one of the gang. He planned the job when Sid was arrested. He was the big noise in Bethnal.’
Mrs Bixley dug at the chair-arms. ‘I ain’t saying nothing about him,’ she said. ‘It’s up to you coppers to handle blokes like Leo. Just don’t ask me questions about him.’
‘He was arrested today,’ Gently said.
Mrs Bixley said nothing.
‘Perce was arrested too,’ Gently said. ‘On a charge of trafficking in reefers.’
‘Sid-’ Mrs Bixley began. She stopped.
‘Sid’s in it, too, isn’t he?’ Gently said. ‘We’ve found a depot for the reefers over at Castlebridge. Sid’s been the one who’s distributed them here.’
She jammed her lips tight shut, sat perfectly still. A tramp of feet overhead indicated that Setters was in the bedrooms. They could hear drawers opened and closed, the faint creaking of bed-springs, then Arter’s whining voice as he answered a question. The expression on Mrs Bixley’s face grew tighter and tighter.
‘Surely,’ Gently said, ‘you wondered where Sid got his money from? How he paid for that bike and his expensive riding clothes? He doesn’t work very often from what I’ve heard, yet he acts as though he’s got plenty of money to throw about.’
‘I give him some,’ she said.
‘How much, Mrs Bixley?’
‘How should I know?’ she said. ‘I give him some now and then.’
‘How much does your husband earn?’
‘I got some money of Mum’s,’ she said.
‘You keep it in the bank, Mrs Bixley?’
‘You rotten bastard,’ she said.
Gently shrugged, went on listening to the sounds upstairs. A muffled voice from far above suggested that Ralphs was in the loft. Then there was a clink of metal as somebody uncovered the flush cistern, and finally steps on the stairs and a draught from the back door.
‘You stinking lot,’ said Mrs Bixley. ‘Coming in here like this. We ain’t got nothing to hide. Sid wouldn’t keep nothing here. But you rotten bastards come nosing in here as though we’d pinched the Crown Jewels. You rotten sods. You rotten sods. We come here to keep Sid away from them.’
‘You knew he was up to something,’ Gently said.
‘I didn’t know nothing,’ said Mrs Bixley. ‘He got a job too, and all. It was going to be different up here. And Arter, he’s doing all right. We got the telly and a washer. And Sid worked for a bit. I reckoned it was going to be all right.’
‘How long did he work?’ Gently asked.
‘That don’t matter,’ said Mrs Bixley. ‘He got a job, he did, and he worked for a bit. I didn’t like it when he slung it, but Sid had always been restless. And things was going all right. We been up here two years.’
‘Did he get letters from Perce?’ Gently asked.
Mrs Bixley shook her head.
‘Has he been back to Bethnal since he came here?’
‘Once,’ she said. ‘He went to Cissie’s.’
‘When would that have been, Mrs Bixley?’
‘Oh, a long time ago,’ she said.
‘About when he gave up his job?’ Gently asked.
She dug at the chair, her mouth drooping.
‘And when was that?’ Gently asked.
She was staring at the floor as though she didn’t hear him.
Time passed. Setters came back. He made a negative gesture with his hands. Ralphs and Arter came in behind him, the latter with a yellowish tab-end gummed to his lip. Gently got up.
‘That’s that,’ he said. ‘Sorry we had to pay you a visit.’
‘I’ll bet you are,’ Arter said. ‘All fun and games for you, this is.’
‘I’ve spoken to your wife,’ Gently said. ‘I’m afraid we’ll be taking your son in for questioning.’
‘Much obliged, I’m sure,’ Arter said. ‘That’ll be very nice for Sid.’
Mrs Bixley didn’t say anything, kept staring at the floor.
They sat in the car, Setters with Gently, Ralphs silent in the rear. Setters’ hands were very dirty and he’d picked up some rust on his trousers.
‘The First and Last,’ Setters said slowly.
‘It’s a good bet,’ Gently said.
‘But they’ll be moved by now,’ Setters said. ‘If Bixley’s as smart as we think he is. So where would he move them from there? Where would he think we wouldn’t look? Or is he out of stock now, owing to a hitch in supplies this morning?’
‘He won’t be out of stock,’ Gently said. ‘He wasn’t working hand to mouth. There’ll be a hoard of the stuff somewhere, you can put your promotion on that. We’ll have to check the First and Last because it stands out a mile — and because chummies are sometimes stupid. Though I don’t think this chummie is.’
He told Setters what he had elicited from Mrs Bixley about Bixley and Waters, about the coincidence between Bixley’s London visit and the giving-up of his employment. Setters kept nodding sapiently.
‘You’re doing well down here,’ he said. ‘I wish it was getting us closer to Lister, but either way you’re doing well.’
‘Bixley is close to Lister, very close,’ Gently said.
‘Elton paddled in Lister’s blood,’ Setters said. ‘You can’t get much closer than that.’
‘Think,’ Gently said, ‘think a moment. Lister was killed on the way back from Leach’s cafe. Bixley was there. He was collecting his chocolates. And on the way back from there, Lister is killed. Is it just one of those strange coincidences, or is it a tie-up we can’t overlook?’
Setters thought. ‘It’s a tie-up,’ he admitted grudgingly. ‘But don’t forget that Elton is right in the middle of it. He didn’t love Lister. He was a side-kick of Bixley’s. And he was there where he could do the job, which you haven’t proved that Bixley was.’
‘Forget Elton a moment,’ Gently said. ‘Think of Bixley and the chocolates.’
Setters nodded again. ‘I begin to see where you’re getting,’ he said. ‘You think there was trouble over those chocolates. You think maybe Lister half-inched them. Then could be Bixley busted him off, trying to stop him to get them back. Is that the angle with Bixley?’
‘It suggests itself,’ Gently said.
‘And Elton maybe took a side road?’
‘Elton was there,’ Gently said. ‘Elton was there because you proved it and because the facts all prove it. But the part he played in what happened is something we still have to guess at.’
‘Bixley had a passenger,’ Setters said. ‘And a passenger is a witness. And Bixley was a quarter of an hour behind. I can’t see Bixley doing the busting. But Elton didn’t have a passenger and Elton left right after Lister, so if this chocolates angle holds I’d say that Elton was told to recover them. Which gives me another motive for Elton. And lets Bixley out of the picture.’
‘You’re missing something,’ Gently said.
‘I’m doing my best,’ Setters said.
‘Bixley is an expert rider,’ Gently said. ‘I’m told locally he’s the mostest.’
‘Yeah,’ Setters said. ‘So what does that prove? That Elton bungled it when he busted-off Lister. I’d say he did it trying to stop him and not knowing a better way to do it. And that still adds up to Elton having done it, whether by accident or with malice aforethought. And I like that accident angle best, I never could see Elton as a deliberate killer.’
‘Nor could I,’ Gently said. ‘Especially with Betty Turner on Lister’s pillion.’ He pulled the starter, brushed the gear in. ‘We’ll get a warrant for the First and Last,’ he said. ‘Also one for Mr Deeming’s rooms, just in case Mr Deeming is being quixotic.’