The Detective Wore Silk Drawers by Peter Lovesey

Author:Peter Lovesey [Lovesey, Peter]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Soho Press
Published: 2009-08-31T14:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER

9

CONSTABLE THACKERAY REPORTED EARLY AT THE WATERLOO Road Police Station on Monday morning. Whatever happened that day, he was resolved not to offend Cribb. The Constable’s impish pleasure in his sergeant’s predicament after the fight had drained away rapidly. Prometheus unchained was no more alarming than Cribb humiliated.

Mercifully, Sunday had provided time for the fury to subside. So far as police duties were concerned, Cribb was a strict Sabbatarian. He arrived as jaunty as ever, tossing his bowler and umbrella deftly onto the stand.

“Well, Thackeray. What has Monday brought?”

The breezy manner was encouraging.

“One letter from Rainham, Sarge—Jago’s handwriting.

And a young lady to see you. Miss Boltover, daughter of Colonel Boltover.”

“Don’t know her,” said Cribb, raising his eyebrows.

“What does she want?”

“She won’t say, Sarge. She is rather agitated. She’s a handsome-looking lass, too.”

“Red-headed?”

“Why, yes,” confirmed Thackeray in surprise.

“Ask the constable on duty to make some cocoa. Women with hair that colour have temperaments to match, Thackeray.

She’ll need calming down before we ask her in here.”

Calming down with cocoa? Was this the intrepid Cribb?

Possibly his recent experience had taken its toll. Thackeray went on his errand.

When he returned, Cribb was deep in Jago’s letter, which seemed a long one.

“Self-pity,” he said at last, putting it down. “Very regrettable in a police officer. I thought young Jago was stouter-hearted. This could present problems.” He tapped his nose with a penholder. “You saw him after the fight. What sort of shape was he in?”

“He looked tired, Sarge, and no wonder. He didn’t appear to be injured much, except for a slight limp. The second— the big one with the fingers missing—”

“D’Estin.”

“—got him into a trap and drove him away as soon as we came up from the cellar. He looked somewhat startled when the landlord told us you and Vibart were arrested.”

“Startled me, too,” admitted Cribb, ready apparently to relate the painful incident. “Took me till almost midnight to get myself released.”

“How did you possibly manage it?” asked Thackeray, primed to flatter. “It was an appalling situation, Sarge.”

“Most certainly was. I couldn’t say anything while Vibart was there. Had to wait while he talked himself out of it. A deuced long time he took, too.”

“What did you say when you were alone with the village bobby, Sarge? Did you admit you were in the force?”

“Good Lord, no! He’d have checked with the Yard. If Jowett heard I’d been arrested, that would be the end of our investigations. Possibly a public inquiry. We’re in a very delicate position, Constable. Don’t you forget it.”

“How did you get away, then?” asked Thackeray, honestly rather baffled.

“I took the measure of the man as he questioned Vibart.

Fine officer, in his way. Pertinent questions. Two things were clear, though. First, he hadn’t meant to break up the prize fight; he didn’t know it was on. Second, he didn’t want to lose the respect the locals held him in. So I planned my strategy, and waited for him to release Vibart.”

“Vibart thought of an alibi, did he, Sarge?”

“Nothing so grand as that.

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