His shoulders began to shake with laughter and his men took their lead from him, outrage turning to puzzlement and finally hilarity.
‘Well, look at it this way, sarge,’ offered one, ‘at least we got it done in house, so to speak. The lass is one of us if you think about it. This is her home nick. And we didn’t give way and hand the buggers over to Special Branch — if that’s who they were — when they came calling. We held the line. I reckon we can chalk this one up to the station.’
‘Right, Smithson. That’s how we’ll tell it, if anyone asks.’
‘Still — that’s a clever operator, sarge. Had you any idea?’
The sergeant looked thoughtful for a moment and said carefully: ‘Why is it everybody always coos over the monkey’s antics? When it’s the sodding organ-grinder they ought to be keeping their eye on?’
Chapter Twelve
The sodding organ-grinder sat thoughtfully at his desk, checked his wristwatch then rang for his secretary.
‘One letter, Jameson, before I dash off again. Got your pencil? Internal — and address it to the Commissioner himself, would you? His eyes only or whatever formula you use. Head it … Vine Street Police Station. Dear Commissioner, I visited today in pursuit of the Dedham case. My experiences there threw up some unsettling observations on the management of the station. I would welcome the opportunity to discuss these face to face as soon as possible.’
When she had left to type up his note he picked up the telephone. ‘Pass me Superintendent Hopkirk, will you?’
Superintendent Hopkirk raced into the inspectors’ room and peered through the cloud of tobacco smoke. ‘Chappel! Put that blasted pipe out. Bloody hell! What a puther. I’ve breathed fresher air downwind of Grimethorpe Coking Works. Get your team together, fast. We’ve got the buggers!’