Arrowood by Mick Finlay

Author:Mick Finlay
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2017-08-31T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty

The guvnor asked me to tip up early the next day in my best suit. He had a plan of sorts. By the time I arrived he’d already sent Neddy off to Scotland Yard with a note for the CID. It said only that it concerned their drowned officer, and asked them to send someone to meet us at Willows’ at midday. The guvnor believed that a man was only such a man as others treated him, and that officials became more like ordinary men the more they were stripped of the costumes and offices that went along with their jobs. So we’d approach them first and on our turf, we’d look better than them, and we’d manage the meeting on our terms. This, he thought, would confuse our roles just enough to get them to tell us something about the case the dead copper was working on. I wasn’t so sure it would work, but I can’t say I had an idea of my own, and sometimes, as I’ve learned with the guvnor, you must do something even if you aren’t sure it’s right.

When I arrived, he was wearing his best black suit, with a green waistcoat and a milky white cravat. His boots had a high polish, his hair combed down flat over his great bald head. I was stunned for a moment: the guvnor was grinning like a cat. Above the fire hung the photographic portrait.

‘Oh dear, Barnett,’ he fussed. An eccentric smile lay across his lips. ‘Look at your hair. Didn’t Mrs Barnett see you before you left the house? Your head is like gorse. That’ll do us no good at all. Ettie, come down!’

Ettie was down sharply, and the moment she saw me her face softened.

‘Norman. I hear there are developments in the case.’

‘Things are moving along, that’s for sure.’

‘What did you discover at the mortuary?’

I was about to answer when the guvnor interrupted.

‘Can you fix his hair?’

Her brow turned quizzical. She brushed the waistband of her high skirt.

‘His hair, William?’

I glanced in the looking glass by the door.

‘Yes, cut it,’ continued the guvnor. He was moving from one foot to another, a crazed look on his face. I wondered if he’d had a drop of coca-nut already this morning. ‘Put some lotion in it. Comb it. As you’ve done with me. We’re meeting CID today.’

‘No, Ettie,’ I said, trying to relieve her embarrassment. ‘It wouldn’t be proper. I’ll visit the barber if it’s really so bad.’

‘You misunderstand,’ she replied. Her steady gaze unnerved me, and a queer flicker had lit up her eyes. ‘My hesitation isn’t for propriety’s sake, Norman. In Afghanistan, I’ve done a great deal more intimate things with men I didn’t know than cut their hair. The body’s no more than a vessel lent to us by the good Lord. It’s the soul which is sacred, is it not?’

‘Yes, I suppose.’

‘Indeed, I’m happy to help, but I hesitate for Mrs Barnett’s sake. What will she think?’

‘I suppose she’d understand if it was necessary for the case,’ I said.

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