Gently Sinking (3 page)

‘Sorry about Makin and the dabs.’

Such a slip would obviously needle Tallent. His office made it plain he’d have no mercy on inefficiency.

‘It was outside usual routine,’ Gently shrugged.

‘But it bloody shouldn’t have been,’ Tallent said. ‘Makin knew what the case was about. He’s not as dumb as all that.’

‘Do you have much trouble with the black community?’

‘Used to,’ Tallent said. ‘Not now. We’ve got to know one another. They’re pretty civil round here, now.’

‘Meaning?’

Tallent’s pale eyes were sharp. ‘I reckon prevention beats cure, sir,’ he said. ‘I’m not one for cluttering up the courts. That’s no answer.’

‘So what’s your method?’

Tallent smoothed one hand with the other. ‘Gentle persuasion, sir,’ he said. ‘When they get out of line, I have a talk with them. And I let it be known I’m a peaceful copper who likes to live in a peaceful manor. And that’s how it is, sir. The immigrants remain civil. They understand I’m a man of peace.’

The coffee came in. Tallent took his and carefully stirred in one lump of sugar. He sipped, looked at Gently. Gently paused over his cup.

‘Did you know that black man we saw?’

‘You bet. There aren’t many I don’t know.’

‘Has he a record?’

‘Not up till now. But I caught him once running around with a white girl.’

‘So?’

Tallent smiled. ‘A personal talk one evening, sir. It did the trick. He was quite co-operative. All that his sort need is gentle persuasion.’

‘He certainly looked persuaded,’ Gently said.

Tallent drank some more coffee.

‘I thought we’d have Osgood in first, sir,’ he said. ‘I’d say he was the dumbest of the two. We can probably crack him soonest.’

* * *

Laceless, tieless, Osgood shuffled in and was given a seat in front of the desk. He wore a well-cut suit in Irish tweed but it hung ungracefully from his lumpish shoulders. He had sandy hair and broad, coarse features and stumpy hands with hairy backs. You might have taken him for a navvy hauled in off a pay-night carouse.

He sat heavily, spreading his knees and squinting at the occupants of the office.

‘All right,’ Tallent said. ‘You’ve been charged, Osgood. I’m going to ask you questions, but you don’t have to answer them. You don’t have to answer them, but you can do. Am I getting through to you, Osgood?’

Osgood squinted at him, then away. ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘I can hear you. I’m a good listener, that’s me. Perhaps you’d better get hold of my lawyer.’

‘Never mind your lawyer, Osgood,’ Tallent said. ‘I’m going to talk to you now off the record. Like I was your brother talking to you, Osgood. I’ve got better advice for you than any lawyer.’

‘Maybe you think so,’ Osgood said.

‘Yeah, I do think so,’ Tallent said. ‘And if you’re hip you’ll think so too, because you’re up to here in trouble, Osgood. We’ve got you fixed. You were Blackburn’s driver. You fetched the illegals in from the coast. We’ve found the pantechnicon you used down at Poplar, the one with the seats in the back, Osgood. And the garage man knows you, and his mechanics know you, and they can remember the last time you were out. And that time was the night of 1 October. And we all know what happened that night, don’t we?’

Tallent paused, rustled some papers. ‘Then there’s what Grey’s been telling us,’ he said.

‘Grey . . .?’ Osgood said.

Tallent said nothing, got out his cigarettes, lit one. Osgood watched, his mouth slack, hands clamping on his knees.

‘Yeah,’ Tallent said. ‘You’re really in trouble. Maybe I did ought to ring your lawyer.’

‘You get him,’ Osgood said. ‘I want him here.’

‘On the other hand,’ Tallent said. ‘What good can he do you?’ He issued smoke. ‘It’s this way,’ he said. ‘No lawyer can dig you out of this one, Ozzie. We’ve got the goods, and you know it. You’re going away for a number of years. Grey knows it too. He’s clever. Blackburn had a good man there, Ozzie. Grey isn’t kidding himself he’ll walk out of here, he’s playing it smooth. A bright kiddo.’

Osgood’s eyes clung to Tallent. ‘Fred . . .’ he said.

Tallent watched him.

‘Fred wouldn’t say nothing . . .’

Tallent turned over papers, found one, seemed to be reading.

‘Look—’ Osgood said.

Tallent flipped smoke at him. ‘No, Osgood,’ he said. ‘You look here. We couldn’t care less about your immigrant clients – what we want is Blackburn’s murderer!’ He struck the desk. ‘And what are you doing about it? How are you helping us to find him? You’re just clamming up and bleating about your bloody lawyer!’

He got up, leaned across the desk.

‘Now listen to me, Osgood,’ he said. ‘Either you tell us what you know or by Jesus it’ll go rough with you. I’m not an easy man, Osgood, and I’ve got you where I want you. You’d better give. Because if you don’t, getting sent away will be the least of it.’

He took a big lungful of smoke and jetted it straight into Osgood’s eyes.

Osgood pulled back, sneezing, coughing, scrubbing at his eyes with his short-fingered hands.

‘You getting the idea, Ozzie?’ Tallent said softly.

‘You – you can’t treat me this way!’ Osgood sobbed.

‘What do you mean – treat you?’ Tallent said. ‘I’m just giving you advice, Ozzie, showing you the easy way. Nobody has to take it on the chin, not with me, Ozzie. I’m a peaceful man. People co-operate, don’t howl for their lawyers, we get along fine. Like brothers.’

He took another big lungful of smoke. Osgood cringed, put up his hands. Tallent held the smoke for a moment, then let it trickle through his nose. He sat down again. Osgood watched him. His watery eyes couldn’t get away from Tallent. Tallent took a few more drags, ran his fingers across his knuckles.

‘So like I was saying, Osgood,’ he said. ‘You’ve been charged, don’t have to answer questions. Don’t have to answer them, but you can do. You still want to call your lawyer?’

‘No,’ Osgood said. ‘I don’t want him.’

‘You’re sure of that?’

‘Yeah,’ Osgood said.

‘You can have him,’ Tallent said. ‘That’s the rule.’

‘I don’t want him,’ Osgood said. ‘I don’t want my lawyer.’

‘You know,’ Tallent said. ‘I think we’ll get along. I think you’re a pretty good fella, Ozzie. You like a cigarette?’

‘No,’ Osgood said.

‘Ah, you’re giving them up,’ Tallent said. ‘That’s wise.’

He blew smoke towards Osgood.

‘So who did it, Ozzie?’ he said. ‘You can tell me, we’re good friends. Who stuck that knife into Blackburn?’

Osgood pulled aside from the smoke, his hands lifting, fanning nervously.

‘I don’t know nothing about that,’ he said. ‘Not who killed him. Nothing.’

‘Nothing at all, Ozzie?’ Tallent said.

‘Not about who killed him,’ Osgood said.

‘That’s very disappointing, Ozzie,’ Tallent said. ‘And me prepared to be so friendly. You didn’t do it yourself, I suppose, Ozzie?’

Osgood shuddered. ‘I didn’t do it.’

‘No?’ Tallent said. ‘Where were you, Ozzie – when that knife was going into Blackburn’s back?’

‘I was at home.’

‘You were at home.’

‘Yes,’ Osgood said. ‘I bloody was. I was at home. I was in my flat. I was watching TV. I was at home.’

‘Like when would that be?’ Tallent said.

‘It was all the evening,’ Osgood said. ‘I had a meal out in a caff, then I went home. All the evening.’

‘All the evening,’ Tallent said. ‘That must have been lonesome for you, Ozzie. Or did you have friends in?’

‘No, I didn’t have friends in.’

‘A pity,’ Tallent said. ‘Isn’t that a pity?’

‘Look, I can prove it,’ Osgood said. ‘The old girl next door, she see me come in. She can hear my TV through the wall. I can bloody prove it. I was in all the evening.’

Tallent kneaded his hands together. ‘You’re not proving anything, Osgood,’ he said. ‘You’re just telling me you faked an alibi, like leaving the TV switched on.’

‘But I didn’t fake no alibi!’

‘Yeah,’ Tallent said. ‘That could be the answer. You didn’t love Blackburn, did you, Osgood – with him only paying you in peanuts?’

‘I never killed Tommy!’

‘It could stand up.’

‘I tell you I never!’

‘The jury might go for it. A stupid berk with a big grudge. Oh yes, they’d go for it.’

‘But I never did it!’

‘I can hear you,’ Tallent said. ‘You don’t have to tell me three or four times. Only the way things are I can’t believe it, there’s nobody else fits in so well. You don’t know anybody, do you?’

‘It was an illegal what did it!’ Osgood blurted. ‘You bleeding know it was – they was all agin him after what happened.’

‘An illegal, was it?’

‘A bleeding illegal.’

‘Like what was his name?’

‘I dunno.’

‘You don’t know enough,’ Tallent said. ‘Not nearly enough, Ozzie boy.’

Osgood gulped breath, his hands working. His pale eyebrows were hooked high. Sweat glinted on his forehead. You could smell him. He was afraid.

Gently said, ‘You say the black community had it in for Blackburn?’

Osgood’s fishlike stare switched to him.

‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘That’s right.’

‘People known to you?’

‘I ain’t saying—’

‘You don’t know any black people?’

Osgood swallowed with his mouth open. ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘I know some.’

‘You have black friends?’

‘I never said that.’

‘Black acquaintances?’

‘Yeah, maybe. I live up Acton way, don’t I? There’s black guys wherever you look.’

‘And Blackburn knew black people?’

‘Course he did.’

‘The same black people that you know?’

‘How should I know—’

‘Did he?’

Osgood swallowed again. ‘Yeah.’

‘Now that’s co-operation,’ Tallent said. ‘That’s the way to answer a policeman. You started slow, Ozzie, but you’re learning. Just keep remembering we’re your friends.’

‘And these mutual acquaintances,’ Gently said. ‘There’d be some place where you met them?’

Osgood hesitated.

Tallent dusted his knuckles. ‘Keep helping the police, Ozzie,’ he said.

‘In the street, around,’ Osgood said quickly.

‘Not in the street, around,’ Tallent said.

‘So pubs, caffs . . .’

Tallent went still, stared at him.

‘All right, a bloody club then!’

‘Yeah,’ Tallent said.

‘A club,’ Gently said. ‘What’s the name of it?’

‘It’s a dump they call the Coconut Grove. Mainly black punters. They run it. Tommy and us used to go there.’

‘The address?’

‘Brickfields. Paradise Road.’

‘That’s Willesden way,’ Tallent said. ‘Brickfields is a black community.’

‘Blackburn belonged to this club?’ Gently asked. ‘Yeah – no. He sort of belonged.’

‘He was a member?’

Osgood worked his hands. ‘Like he knew the people. That sort of thing.’

‘Who are the people?’

‘It’s a black couple who run it. Sharkey Sunshine and his missus.’

‘Who?’ Tallent said.

Osgood repeated the name. Tallent whistled, looked at Gently.

‘Small world,’ he said. ‘I know Sunshine. He’s one of these educated types. I helped to educate him. He tried to open a joint here a couple of years back. So he’s tied up with this, is he?’

‘I never said so,’ Osgood said.

‘You don’t have to, Ozzie boy,’ Tallent said. ‘You weren’t trying to cover up, were you? And this club – let me guess – they dance, sit around and booze. Plenty of women. Rooms upstairs. Women. Like Blackburn had been with.’

‘It ain’t that way,’ Osgood said. ‘They run it decent, him and his missus.’

‘And you never went there to lay a black woman?’

‘I—’ Osgood said.

Tallent laughed.

‘Were you there Tuesday night?’ Gently asked.

‘Didn’t I say I was at home!’

‘Would Blackburn have gone there – when he left his office?’

Osgood stared furiously, shook his head.

‘He can’t lie,’ Tallent said. ‘He’s too honest – or too dumb. Now all we want is the name of the woman. We’ll have this case wrapped up by teatime.’

Gently looked at Osgood. ‘Well?’ he said.

Osgood’s large mouth was trembling.

‘Speak up, Ozzie,’ Tallent said, stropping his knuckles on the desk-edge.

Osgood winced. ‘I ain’t saying any more.’

‘You aren’t what?’ Tallent went still.

‘Bloody hit me then,’ Osgood said. ‘I don’t care! I’ve said all I’m saying.’

Tallent stood up.

‘Right,’ Gently said. ‘Osgood can go back to the cells.’

‘But the bastard knows!’ Tallent burst out.

‘He’s within his rights not to answer.’

‘Go on, hit me,’ Osgood said. ‘Hit me. Hit me. I don’t care.’

Tallent stood up very straight, his thin mouth on the twist.

‘All right,’ he said to the constable on the door. ‘Take him away.’

He sat again.

* * *

They brought Grey in. Grey was a handsome man of forty-five. There wasn’t a thread of white in his neat dark hair. He had sideburns. They suited him. He had sharp hazel eyes. He was powerfully but elegantly made and a grey lounge suit sat well on him. Having no tie gave him a raffish look, showed up his strong neck. He managed to avoid a prisoner’s shuffle. He sat easily. He smiled.

‘Permission to smoke?’

Tallent was rocking back in his chair, eyes hooded. He’d said nothing to Gently after Osgood went, before Grey came. He’d sat finishing his cigarette, staring a long way off, chin down. Now he regarded Grey carelessly, paid no attention to his remark.

At last he let the chair rock forward.

‘I don’t know why I bother with you, Grey,’ he said. ‘You’re hooked. Ozzie’s been singing like a canary in the spring.’

‘Nice for you,’ Grey said. ‘You like music?’

‘That sort of music,’ Tallent said. ‘I could listen to it all day when it’s about a cheapie like you.’

‘Naughty,’ Grey said. ‘I’m not cheap.’

‘You weren’t so dear, either,’ Tallent said. ‘Fifteen per cent on the net you were getting. A bright boy like you. And you set it up for him, didn’t you? A fat lot Blackburn knew about Jamaica. But slick Freddie knew, he’d been out there running a tourist swindle. Two years Freddie was out there acting like Our Man in Jamaica. The master-mind. And all he got for it was fifteen per cent on the net.’