The Enemy. Desmond Bagley
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I grinned. ‘I mean. Now get busy.’ I sat at my desk and opened the file on Ashton. It was very thin. The names and addresses of his firms were given, but his other associations were few, mostly professional men – lawyers, accountants and the like. He was a member of no club, whether social, sporting or intellectual. A millionaire hermit.
The team assembled and I switched on the tape-recorder. The brieling didn’t take long. I outlined the problem and then told how we were going to handle it, then allocated jobs and shifts. One pistol would be carried by the man over-seeing Ashton, whoever he happened to be at the time; the other I reserved for myself.
I said, ‘Now we have radios so we use them. Stay on net and report often so everyone is clued up all the time. Those off-shift to be findable and near a telephone. You might be needed in a hurry.’
Simpson asked, ‘Do off-shift men go home?’ He’d just got back from his honeymoon.
‘No. Everyone books into hotels in or near Marlow.’ There was an audible groan. ‘As soon as you’ve done it report which hotel together with its phone number so we can find you. I’m at the Compleat Angler.’
Brent said, ‘Living it up on the expense account.’
I grinned, then said soberly, ‘I don’t think we’ll have much time for that on this exercise. I might add that this is an important one. You can judge its importance by the fact that Ogilvie raised the team from six to eight on his own initiative and without me having to needle him. In the light of our staff position that says a lot. So don’t lose any of these people – and keep your own heads down. Right; that’s all.’ I switched off the recorder and rewound the tape.
Larry said, ‘You haven’t given me a job.’
‘You stick with me. I’ll be back in a minute – I’m going to see Ogilvie.’
As I walked into his outer office his secretary said, ‘I was about to ring you, Mr Jaggard. Mr Ogilvie wants to see you.’
‘Thanks.’ I went on in, and said, ‘Here’s the tape of the briefing.’
He was frowning and said directly, ‘Did you cancel a request given to Inspector Honnister for copies of his reports on the Ashton case?’
I put the cassette on his desk. ‘Yes.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I thought it was a lot of bull,’ I said bluntly. ‘It was getting in the way of good relations. What Harrison did was bad enough.’
‘Harrison! What did Joe do?’
I related Harrison’s flat-footed approach and Honnister’s reaction to it, and then his views on providing extra copies of his reports. I added, ‘If we’re going to ask Honnister to provide a guard at the hospital we need to keep in his good books.’
‘Very good thinking,’ said Ogilvie heavily. ‘But for one thing. This department did not request those copies. It came from elsewhere, and someone has just been chewing my ear off by telephone.’
‘Oh,’ I said, rather inadequately, and then, ‘Who?’
‘Need you ask?’ said Ogilvie acidly. ‘The gentleman you met yesterday is sticking his oar in – which, I might add, he is perfectly entitled to do.’ He rubbed his jaw and amended the statement. ‘As long as he restricts himself to requests for information and does not initiate any action.’
He pondered for a moment, then said, ‘All right, Malcolm, you can go. But don’t take any precipitate action without referring back to me.’
‘Yes. I’m sorry, sir.’
He waved me away.
There was nearly an hour of bureaucracy to get through before Larry and I could drive to Marlow. On the way I gave him the score up to that point, and his reaction was emphatic. ‘This is downright stupid! You mean Ogilvie won’t tell you what’s behind all this?’
‘I think his hands are tied,’ I said. ‘This is real top-level stuff. He has a character from Whitehall like a monkey on his back.’
‘You mean Cregar?’
I glanced sideways at Larry. ‘Who?’
‘Lord Cregar. Short, chubby little chap.’
‘Could be. How did you get on to him? Did you bug Ogilvie’s office?’
He grinned. ‘I went to the loo yesterday and saw him coming out of Ogilvie’s room while you were in there.’
I said musingly, ‘Ogilvie did refer to him as “his lordship” but I thought he was joking. How did you know he was Cregar?’
‘He got divorced last week,’ said Larry. ‘His photograph was splashed on the middle inside page of the Telegraph.’
I nodded. The Daily Telegraph takes a keen interest in the marital ups-and-downs of the upper crust. ‘Do you know anything more about him, other than that he’s wifeless?’
‘Yes,’ said Larry. ‘He’s not womanless – that came out very strongly in the court case. But beyond that, nothing.’
We crossed the Thames at Marlow, and I said, ‘We’ll check the hospital first, then go to the police station and I’ll introduce you to a good copper. How good are you at grovelling? I might need a few lessons.’
The hospital car park was full so I put the car illicitly into a doctor’s slot. I saw Jack Brent, who was trailing Penny, so that meant she was in the hospital; he was talking to someone over his radio. I was about to go over to him when someone hailed me, and I turned to find Honnister at my elbow.
He seemed quite cheerful as I introduced Larry. I said, ‘I got some wires crossed yesterday. My people didn’t ask for reports; the request came from elsewhere.’
He smiled. ‘I thought the Super was a bit narky this morning. Not to worry, Mr Jaggard. A man can’t do more than his best.’
‘Any progress?’
‘I think we have the make of car. A witness saw a Hillman Sceptre close to Ashton’s place on Saturday afternoon. The driver fits the description of the suspect. A dark blue car and spring-loaded bonnet, so it fits.’ He rubbed his hands. ‘I’m beginning to think we stand a chance on this one. I want to get this man before Miss Ashton for a firm identification.’
I shook my head. ‘You won’t get it. She’s blind.’
Honnister looked stricken. ‘Christ!’ he said savagely. ‘Wait till I lay hands on this whoreson!’
‘Stand in line. There’s a queue.’
‘I’m just going up to see her. The doctor says she’s fit to talk.’
‘Don’t tell her she’s blind – she doesn’t know yet. And don’t tell her sister.’ I pondered for a moment. ‘We have reason to believe another attack may be made on her. Can you put a man in the hospital?’
‘That’s asking something,’ said Honnister. He paused, then asked, ‘Do you know what’s wrong with the bloody force? Too many chiefs and not enough Indians. If there’s a multiple smash on the M4 we’d be hard put to it to find four uniformed men for crowd control. But go into the nick in Slough and you can’t toss a pebble in any direction without it ricocheting off three coppers of the rank of chief inspector or higher.’ He seemed bitter. ‘But I’ll see what I can do.’
I said, ‘Failing that, give the hospital staff a good briefing. No stranger to get near Gillian Ashton without authority from you, me or the Ashton family. Pitch it to them strong.’
Brent left his