The Dangers of This Night by Matthew Booth

Author:Matthew Booth [Matthew Booth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Level Best Books
Published: 2023-02-27T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-One

Inspector Mason had disliked Cyril Parsons almost immediately. He was not in the habit of forming instinctive judgments of that kind, but there was something about the doorman’s hostile attitude and sneering expression which demanded animosity. He had refused an offer to sit, preferring to stand to attention, his hands clasped behind his back and his eyes fixed on a spot above Mason’s head. There was an insolence about his glare, as if the summons to a police interview had been an irritant to him, a waste of what he evidently took to be his valuable time. If this pretence of defiance was supposed to intimidate Mason, it was a failure, and he made no attempt to disguise the fact. Similarly, Parsons was unaffected by Mason’s ambivalence, which itself was of neither interest nor importance to him.

“I understand you enjoy a bit of a flutter, Mr Parsons,” said Mason.

“No law against it.”

It was a defensive response, which might not be surprising in itself, but it seemed to Mason that it was unnecessarily belligerent. “Tell me about the card sessions with Jacob Erskine.”

“Nothing to tell. Just a couple of hands and a few drinks, a bit of fun.”

“Against club rules, as I understand it.”

Parsons smiled unpleasantly. “That didn’t seem to trouble those members who took part.”

“The members are permitted to gamble on the premises. It’s staff who aren’t, so only you would get into bother for it. Am I right?”

“Wharton felt the need to say something to me, yes, but it was fuss over nothing.”

“As I understand it, Colonel Wharton told you he would reprimand Mr Erskine about these gambling parties also.” Mason watched Parsons nod his head in confirmation. “Would you be surprised to learn that he did nothing of the sort?”

“Wharton’s always been a hypocrite. They all are.”

“Meaning what?”

Parsons laughed spitefully. “They come in here, privileged and protected, not knowing the first thing about the world. They spend all day drinking, smoking, lounging around, and achieving nothing. And yet, we’re supposed to say they are the peak of society.”

There was something about his tone of voice which troubled Mason: not quite malice and not entirely envy, but a subtle blend of the two. He could not be certain whether Parsons despised the members because of their privilege or because he could never attain it himself. Whichever it was, for him to be in servitude to the members of the club would surely be a distasteful reminder of his own lack of status.

“If you loathe them so much, why do you work here?”

Parsons shrugged. “I have to eat.”

And drink, thought Mason. The smell of alcohol, though not overpowering, was unmistakable on the man’s breath. “Did you owe Erskine any money as a result of these gambling sessions?”

Parsons shrugged. “What if I did?”

Mason sat back in his chair. “A significant amount of money was found on the body. As if whoever killed Erskine threw it in his face before they shot him.”

“It wasn’t me.”

“Where were you between half past eight and ten o’clock last night?”

“On duty.

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