The Gropes by Tom Sharpe

Author:Tom Sharpe
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9789085241522
Publisher: For the Benefit of Mr. Kite
Published: 2008-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

20

In front of what had been the bungalow, the police had been joined by the superintendent who was considering the consequences to his career of what could only be called a total catastrophe.

“You bloody moron,” he shouted at the chief inspector. “I asked you to arrest this Ponson crook, not knock his blasted house to the ground. You’ve almost certainly killed the bastard. You wouldn’t have made a competent parking attendant let alone a kindergarten crossing keeper. The front-page headlines of every paper in the country are going to blazon this little lot out. POLICE TERRORISTS BLOW HOUSE UP and WHO NEEDS TERRORISTS WHEN WE’VE GOT THE SECURITY POLICE? As sure as hell I’ll lose my job. Well, let me tell you this: when I go, you’re going a fucking sight further down.”

“But how were we to know he’d got an armour-plated bungalow? The old bird, his sister, said her son was in there to protect the lad from his father and that she’d heard gunshots. We had to get in.”

The superintendent looked insanely round.

“Are you telling me she was married to her brother? That’s incest, that is.”

“No, she’s married to a bank manager in Croydon who’s gone off his rocker and tried to kill his son with a carving knife. She said we had to get him out of his uncle’s house.”

“What? Before he killed him too?” asked the superintendent.

“That’s right, sir.”

“Instead of which he left you to do it for him by bringing the place down. And where is this Mrs Ponson now?”

“Well, inside too, I suppose.”

“You mean she heard gunshots and her son being killed and – ”

“No, sir. Her name is Mrs Wiley. She’s down at Accident and Emergency.”

“Reverse that order of words, Chief Inspector. Emergency and Accident. In fact, cut out the Accident altogether. This was deliberate and you’re responsible. Wait till we’ve an inquest and after that the trial and see what the verdict is.”

He turned and was about to get as far away as quickly as possible when the chief inspector stopped him.

“Hadn’t you better question Mrs Wiley first, sir?”

The superintendent turned and tried vainly to remember who Mrs Wiley was. He was feeling even madder now.

“Is she still alive? I thought you said her husband tried to kill her with a carving knife.”

“Not her. Her son. Mr Wiley is a bank manager. He took a carving knife and – ”

“Oh yes, I remember now. She brought him up to this wrecked bungalow to have him shot by the bigamist husband she’d married before the bank manager. All right, we’ll go and see her. I don’t believe I’ve ever met a bigamist before.”

The chief inspector kept his mouth shut. He was wondering if the superintendent had been drinking, and he was wishing he could have a stiff whisky himself.

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