Martin nodded and made a remark which did nobody any credit.
They stood there watching the machine with the gun trained upon them from its cockpit until it began to move again; then they turned back towards the Riley.
‘Right up the garden,’ said Martin bitterly. ‘Fooled, done brown, put it how you like. There goes Coombe’s murderer and here are we poor mutts who listened trustingly while he told us fairy stories to pass the time away until his pals turned up for him. I wish we’d risked that machine-gun.’
Prenderby nodded gloomily.
‘I feel sick,’ he said. ‘We spotted him and then he got away with it.’
Abbershaw shook his head.
‘He got away certainly,’ he said. ‘But I don’t think we’ve got much cause to regret it.’
‘What do you mean? Think he didn’t kill him?’
They looked at him incredulously.
Abbershaw nodded.