The Enemy. Desmond Bagley
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She can be very wilful, as you’ll find out if you marry her. But Gillian …’ He shook his head. ‘Gillian was never any trouble at all.’
What Ashton said brought home to me some of the anguish parents must feel when things go wrong with the kids. But I was not so concerned with his agony that I didn’t note his reference to if I married Penny, not when I married her. Evidently the fixation of the previous night had left him.
He disillusioned me immediately. ‘Have you given any thought to what we discussed last night?’
‘Some.’
‘With what conclusion?’
‘I’m still pretty much of the same mind,’ I said. ‘I don’t think this is the time to present Penny with new problems, especially if the girls are as close as you say. She’s very unhappy, too, you know.’
‘I suppose you’re right,’ he said dispiritedly, and kicked at the grass again. He was doing that shoe no good at all, and it was a pity to treat Lobb’s craftsmanship so cavalierly. ‘Are you staying to dinner?’
‘With your permission,’ I said formally. ‘I’m taking Penny to the hospital afterwards.’
He nodded. ‘Don’t tell her about Gillian’s eyes. Promise me that.’
‘I already have.’
He didn’t answer that, but turned on his heel and walked away towards the house. As I watched him go I felt desperately sorry for him. It didn’t matter to me then if Nellie had him listed as a hero or a villain; I still felt sorry for him as a simple human being in the deepest of distress.
Penny and I got to the hospital at about half past eight. I didn’t go in with her but waited in the car. She was away quite a long time, more than an hour, and I became restive because I had promised to call Honnister. When she came out she said quietly, ‘I’ve got what you wanted.’
I said, ‘Will you tell it to Honnister? I have an appointment with him.’
‘All right.’
We found Honnister standing at the bar of the Coach and Horses looking broodily into a glass of beer. When we joined him he said, ‘My man’s been and gone. I’ve been hanging on waiting for your call.’
‘Inspecter Honnister – this is Penny Ashton. She has something to tell you.’
He regarded her with gravity. ‘Thank you. Miss Ashton. I don’t think you need me to tell you that we’re doing the best we can on this case, but it’s rather difficult, and we appreciate all the help we can get.’
‘I understand,’ she said.
He turned to me. ‘What’ll you have?’
‘A scotch and …’ I glanced at Penny.
‘A gin and tonic.’
Honnister called to the man behind the bar. ‘Monte, a large scotch and a gin and tonic.’ He turned and surveyed the room. ‘We’d better grab that table before the last-minute crowd comes in.’
I took Penny over to the table and presently Honnister joined us with the drinks. He wasted no time and even before he was seated, he said, ‘Well, Miss Ashton, what can you tell me?’
‘Gillian says it was a man.’
‘Aah!’ said Honnister in satisfaction. He had just eliminated a little more than half the population of Britain. ‘What sort of man? Young? Old? Anything you tell me will be of value.’
He led her through the story several times and each time elicited a further nugget of information. What it boiled down to was this: Gillian had walked back from church and, coming up the drive towards the house, had seen a car parked with the bonnet open and a man peering at the engine. She thought he was someone who had broken down so she approached with the intention of offering assistance. As she drew near the man turned and smiled at her. He was no one she knew. She was about to speak when he slammed down the bonnet with one hand and simultaneously threw the acid into her face with the other. The man didn’t speak at any time; he was about forty, with a sallow complexion and sunken eyes. She did not know the make of car but it was darkish in colour.
‘Let’s go back a bit,’ said Honnister yet again. ‘Your sister saw the man looking at the engine with the bonnet open. Did she mention his hands?’
‘No, I don’t think so. Is it important?’
‘It might be,’ said Honnister noncommittally. He was a good jack; he didn’t put his own ideas into the mouths of his witnesses.
Penny frowned, staring at the bubbles rising in her glass, and her lips moved slightly as she rehearsed her thoughts. Suddenly she said, ‘That’s it, Inspector. Gillian said she walked up and the man turned and smiled at her, then he took his hands out of his jacket pockets.’
‘Good!’ said Honnister heartily. ‘Very good, indeed!’
‘I don’t see the importance,’ said Penny.
Honnister turned to me. ‘Some cars have a rod on a hinge to hold up the bonnet; others have a spring-loaded gadget. Now, if he had his hands in his pockets he couldn’t have been holding the bonnet open manually; and if he took them out of his pockets to close the bonnet and throw the acid at the same time then that bonnet was spring-loaded. He wouldn’t have time to unhook a rod. It cuts down considerably on the makes of car we have to look for.’ He drained his glass. ‘Anything more to tell me?’
‘I can think of nothing else, Inspector.’
‘You and your sister have done very well,’ he said as he stood up. ‘Now I have to see a man about a dog.’ He grinned at me. ‘I really mean that – someone pinched a greyhound.’
Penny said, ‘You’ll let us know if …’
‘You’ll be first to know when something breaks,’ promised Honnister. ‘This is one villain I really want to get my hands on.’
As he walked out I said, ‘He’s a good copper.’
‘It seems so,’ said Penny. ‘I wouldn’t have thought of the significance of the way a car bonnet is held open.’
I stared into my glass. I was thinking that if I got hold of that acid-throwing bastard first there wouldn’t be much left of him for Honnister to deal with. Presently Penny said, ‘I can’t say, “A penny for your thoughts”, or you might get the wrong idea; but what are you thinking?’
I said it automatically; I said it without moving my mind. I said, ‘I’m thinking it would be a good idea if we got married.’
‘Malcolm!’
I’m pretty good at detecting nuances but there were too damn many in that single two-syllable word to cope with. There was something of surprise and something of shock; something, I was afraid, of displeasure and something, I hoped, of delight. All mixed up together.
‘Don’t you think it’s a good idea?’ I watched her hunt for words. ‘But don’t say, “This is so sudden!”’
‘But it is so damned sudden,’ she said, and waved her hand at the room. ‘Here, of all places.’
‘It seems a good pub to me,’ I said. ‘Does the place matter?’
‘I don’t suppose it does,’ she said quietly. ‘But the time – and the timing – does.’
‘I suppose I could have picked a better time,’ I agreed. ‘But it just popped out. I’m not the only one who thinks it’s a good idea. Your father does, too; he wanted me to ask you last night.’
‘So you two have been discussing me behind my back. I don’t know that I like that.’
‘Be reasonable. It’s traditional – and courteous, too – for a man to inform his prospective father-in-law of his