Gently 12 - Gently Sahib by Alan Hunter

Author:Alan Hunter
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9781780331546
Publisher: Robinson
Published: 2001-01-02T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TEN

‘BUT OF COURSE you did know Shimpling?’

Ashfield didn’t immediately reply. He went across to the desk, opened a small drawer, took out a tablet and swallowed it. Some of the fizz had gone out of him. He stood looking into the open drawer. His oiled hair gleamed metallically under the fluorescents that lit the dispensary.

When he turned, it was to sit down.

‘Suppose I did. What then?’

‘In what capacity did you know him?’

‘As a customer. He bought stuff here.’

‘Is that all?’

‘I met him out. He used to hang around the bars. He was an interesting talker. Not that I ran into him much.’

‘He had a woman living with him.’

‘So I’ve read in the papers.’

‘She was a blonde.’

‘I’ve read that too.’

‘Didn’t you meet her?’

Ashfield burped.

‘We can check,’ Gently said. ‘I just thought you’d maybe save us the trouble. My guess is this woman got a job here. I may be wrong. You can tell me.’

‘And . . . if she did?’

‘She’s very attractive. She’s a pro and knows her business. She’d get under any man’s skin if she was around for a while. But my guess is she wasn’t around long . . . didn’t see the week out, perhaps. How long did it take?’

‘How long did what take?’

‘Getting you in front of a camera.’

Ashfield made his grunting noises, showing his teeth at the floor. Now that his head was tilted forward the bow tie had vanished completely.

‘This is your story. I’ve admitted nothing!’

‘But that’s how it went, wasn’t it? Shimpling took a look at you, weighed the prospects, then attacked the weak spot.

‘You’ve a jealous wife. Don’t worry . . . I don’t intend to raise my voice! And you, maybe you’re a bit starved – keep your wool on, I’m not blaming you! You wouldn’t dare to hunt it up, but if it were served on a plate . . . and that’s what happened, didn’t it? I’ll bet she was never out of this dispensary . . .

‘Then she’d tell you he was away and that you could come out to the bungalow, perhaps even invent an excuse which would satisfy your wife. But, at a certain point in the proceedings fizzh! off goes a flashbulb – and you’re down in the book for twenty-five pounds a month.

‘We even know what you paid. Why bother to deny it . . . ?’

Ashfield looked ill. ‘For God’s sake, stop it! She may be listening on the landing. All right, she’s jealous – I give you that . . . couldn’t we have talked somewhere else?’

‘How did you pass off Shirley Banks?’

‘Keep your voice down! I don’t admit anything,’

‘If there’s nothing in it—’

‘If there is or not, she’ll believe it if she hears.’

Gently shrugged. ‘I don’t want to make trouble for you . . . I’ll treat the whole business as confidential. But why not admit it? It’s over and done with. Being blackmailed isn’t a crime.’

‘If I had been blackmailed I’d have gone to the police!’

Gently shook his head. ‘Not you.

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