3 Inspector Hobbes and the Gold Diggers (23 page)

‘Well done,’ said Mrs Goodfellow. ‘Now, take a seat next to Kathy and I’ll get tea ready. Are you hungry?’

‘Yes. Very.’

‘Good lad.’

She left us, followed by Dregs, who was not impressed by Rupert’s scent and who was hoping for scraps before supper, although the old girl was always very strict with his mealtimes. Still, he remained an optimistic dog.

When Rupert apologetically shuffled next to Kathy, her expression could not have been more disgusted had Dregs left a deposit there. Rupert sat hunched up, with downcast eyes and trembling hands, with Hobbes looming over him like a potential avalanche.

‘Well, Rupert,’ he said, quite gently for him, ‘I want you to tell me why you assaulted the poor lady and stole her handbag and why you threatened Andy with a knife?’

‘I’m ever so sorry,’ said Rupert, ‘I hope I didn’t hurt her, and I would never have used the knife.’

‘You were lucky,’ said Hobbes, ‘that she was shaken up and upset, but uninjured. If she had been, you might have made me angry and you wouldn’t like me when I’m angry.’

‘He’s right,’ I said. ‘You wouldn’t.’

‘Thank you, Andy,’ said Hobbes, keeping his gaze on the squirming Rupert. ‘Why did you do it?’

‘I was desperate. My wallet got stolen and I haven’t eaten all day. I just wanted to go home.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ said Hobbes. ‘Did you report the stolen wallet to the police?’

‘No.’

‘I see. Where do you live?’

‘A long way from here, in the Blacker Mountains. The nearest town is Blackcastle, but you’ve probably never heard of it.’

‘We …’ I said and stopped, aware of Hobbes’s frown.

‘We have heard of the place,’ he said. ‘What brings you to Sorenchester?’

‘I had a job to do … for my father.’

‘I see. Aren’t you a bit young to be working?’

Rupert blushed. ‘I’m eighteen.’

‘Old enough, then, but why didn’t you ask him for help if you’d lost your money?’

‘I couldn’t … because … I had no money at all.’

‘But,’ said Hobbes, ‘the lass gave me this.’ He held out a very swish-looking smartphone. ‘It was in your pocket and it works and it’s charged.’

Rupert’s voice dropped to a mumble. ‘I forgot.’

Hobbes laughed. ‘You forgot? I’m afraid I don’t believe you.’ His voice rose just a little in volume, but several notches in threatening, as he examined the device. ‘It appears that you made several calls today. Didn’t you?’

‘Yeah,’ he admitted, looking absolutely miserable.

‘So, you didn’t forget, did you?’

‘No,’ said Rupert, staring at the carpet as if he hoped a big hole would open up and swallow him. He sighed.

‘Good,’ said Hobbes, his bright smile displaying a worrying jawful of teeth, ‘now, tell me the truth.’

‘I’d rather not.’

‘Why doncha kick the punk’s bony ass?’ said Kathy. ‘Then he’ll spill the beans.’

‘I’m sure there’ll be no need for that,’ said Hobbes smiling. ‘Rupert will cooperate, sooner or later.’

‘It’s a goddam funny way of policing. Back home, the cops would have busted his ass and thrown him in the slammer.’

‘Language, Kathy,’ said Hobbes.

‘You’re a cop?’ asked Rupert, looking up, seeing Hobbes’s nod and cringing.

‘Yes, didn’t I say?’

‘Am I under arrest?’

‘Not yet and maybe not at all, if you answer my questions truthfully and fully.’

‘But I can’t.’

‘Of course you can. What have you got to hide?’

‘I’m saying nothing.’

Hobbes shrugged. ‘Can you at least tell me how you lost your wallet?’

Rupert nodded. ‘I went into a pub for a pint and a bite to eat. After I’d paid, I put my wallet back in my pocket. It wasn’t there when I left, so someone must have nicked it.’

‘Which pub were you in?’

‘One called the Feathers. The landlord’s a real big ba … I mean a real big bloke, like you, but I spoke to the little guy behind the bar.’

‘Go on,’ said Hobbes.

‘I went straight back when I noticed it had gone,’ said Rupert, ‘and had a look around, but couldn’t see it. The little guy kept grinning at me, so I figured he’d got it, but he denied it.’

‘I see,’ said Hobbes, ‘and what did you do?’

‘I asked him to turn out his pockets. I did get a bit angry.’

‘Then what happened?’

‘The big ba … man charged across the room, picked me up by my neck and trousers and threw me into the street.’

‘You got off lightly, my lad,’ said Hobbes.

I nodded. Featherlight’s temperament might be compared to that of a wild bull and the slightest incident could set him off, which would frequently lead to blood being spilled, though it was a comforting part of his character that he didn’t stay angry for long. It was usually, however, long enough for his victim to need a visit to casualty. How he wasn’t in prison was a mystery, though he did receive some protection by being a tourist attraction. Some people just seemed to find him fascinating, and a few thought it might be amusing to provoke him, usually not realising their folly until they came round. Still, it’s an ill wind that blows no good and Mrs Goodfellow’s tooth collection had acquired many of its finest specimens from the Feathers, as well as a few that made me despair for British dentistry.

‘Now, tell me,’ said Hobbes, ‘what did you do last night?’

‘I went into the church, hoping for shelter, but a fierce woman with blue hair made me leave when she started locking up. After that, I tried sleeping under a bush in the park, but it was far too cold. That wind!’ He shuddered. ‘In the end, I just wandered the streets until morning.’

‘That can’t have been much fun,’ said Hobbes.

‘It was horrible.’

Rupert looked so miserable that I would have felt sorry for him, had he not pulled a knife on me an hour ago. Thinking about what might have happened, I began shaking and, despite a noble struggle to keep myself together I could easily have gone to pieces, had Mrs Goodfellow not announced that tea was ready.

Hobbes, putting his great paw on Rupert’s shoulder, pulled him up and propelled him to the kitchen. Kathy followed, looking utterly perplexed and shaking her head. Making an effort, I shrugged and smiled, trying to indicate that I was completely cool with the situation and that, if she intended staying, she would have to get used to a lot. From experience, this wasn’t always easy and there had been occasions early on when I’d come close to running into Blackdog Street, screaming. Since then, I’d learned to cope: mostly. It was worth hanging in there because I’d seen so many things I wouldn’t have otherwise. It was true some of them gave me nightmares, but it was great to have a life and to be building up a store of memories.

Another thing that made life worth living was Mrs Goodfellow’s Sunday tea. It was only sandwiches and cake, but such sandwiches and such cake! At first Kathy looked a little disappointed, but after Hobbes had embarrassed Rupert by saying grace, she took a bite from a sandwich. A smile spread across her face, for, although it was a simple cheese and chutney sandwich, the cheese was the tangy, nutty, sweet Sorenchester cheese and the bread, like the spicy, mouth-watering, chutney, was home-made and utterly delicious. Rupert kept quiet and stuffed himself. He’d probably told the truth about not having eaten all day.

Mrs Goodfellow opened a bottle of red wine and offered it round. Hobbes, smiling and friendly, kept Rupert’s glass topped up. I wondered what he was up to because, while it wasn’t unusual for him to treat criminals in an unorthodox manner, he was usually rough, if not brutal, with anyone who’d attacked a woman. Yet, since tipping him out of the bin, he’d shown kindness and understanding towards Rupert. If it was an attempt to impress Kathy it was failing for, whenever her mouth wasn’t full, she would glower at Rupert, as if planning a lynching. All I could do was wait and see how things turned out.

After the meal, Hobbes took us back to the sitting room, while Mrs Goodfellow washed up and Dregs hung around, waiting for his supper.

‘Did you enjoy your tea?’ Hobbes asked, guiding Rupert to the sofa and making sure he didn’t spill his wine.

‘Yes,’ he said, sprawling, making himself comfortable, grinning and emitting a hiccup, ‘I was starving, but that was great. I feel fine now.’

‘Good,’ said Hobbes, topping up his glass. ‘It’s not at all pleasant to be penniless, without food and shelter, especially now the nights are getting so cool. That’s why I’m so surprised you didn’t ask for help.’

‘I couldn’t. My father …’

‘Who is your father?’

Rupert sat up straight. ‘Sir Gerald Payne. He’s a very important man.’

‘That must be
the
Sir Gerald Payne,’ said Hobbes. ‘I’ve heard he owns a little land around Blackcastle.’

‘A lot of land, actually. Well over a thousand acres and we … he owns all sorts of property around there.’

‘That does sound a lot,’ said Hobbes, ‘but I don’t suppose it gives him a huge income. I mean, the Blacker Mountains are barren and can hardly bring in much cash at the best of times, and they say times are hard there. I don’t suppose the rents are very high.’

Rupert grinned. ‘That’s all true. It is hardly worth our while to rent out the properties.’

‘I don’t know how he makes ends meet,’ said Hobbes, shaking his head sympathetically. ‘Unless, of course, he has other income streams? I’ll bet he’s a shrewd investor.’

‘Of course,’ said Rupert, his voice dropping to a confidential whisper. ‘And the best thing is that we’ve just reopened the family gold mine.’

‘Gosh,’ said Hobbes, his eyes wide. ‘A gold mine? It’s lucky to have one of those to fall back on, just as the price of gold is rising.’

‘Luck doesn’t come into it,’ said Rupert, his smile broad and smug, his words slurred. ‘My ancestor Sir Greville Payne discovered the gold and scrimped and saved for years until he could buy the land and open the mine. That’s where the family fortune came from.’

‘Good for Sir Greville.’

Kathy and I exchanged glances. Hobbes seemed excessively friendly with this young crook.

‘But,’ he continued, ‘if your family has a fortune and a gold mine, and your mobile was working, I don’t understand why you couldn’t phone for help.’

‘He said he’d kill me if I fu … messed up again.’

‘He can hardly blame you for being robbed, can he? More wine?’ He refilled Rupert’s glass.

‘Thanks. You don’t know him. My father can be a right bastard.’

‘But he wouldn’t really kill you, would he?’

‘He bloody would … Well, not literally kill me, but he gets really angry. I say, this is awfully strong wine.’

Hobbes nodded. ‘I expect that, when you’ve done the job, he’ll be pleased with you?’

‘The thing is,’ said Rupert, ‘that I haven’t done it. I’m going to be in deep sh … trouble.’

‘Maybe not,’ said Hobbes. ‘Perhaps I can help. After all police officers are here to help the public.’

‘What?’ said Kathy, looking furious.

Hobbes raised his hand.

‘Could you?’ asked Rupert, his words increasingly slurred. ‘That’s very decent of you.’

Hobbes smiled. ‘I’m just doing my job. What do you have to do?’

Rupert hiccupped, scratched his head and shifted awkwardly. ‘I’ve got to find where someone lives.’

‘Can’t you look in the phone book?’

‘No, she’s just moved here and is ex-directory. My father says she’s trouble.’

‘Who, exactly, are you looking for?’

‘I don’t think I should tell anyone.’

‘Quite right, you shouldn’t tell anyone, but you can tell me.’

‘Can I?’

Hobbes nodded.

‘OK. I gotta find Daffy Duck.’

‘Are you sure?’ asked Hobbes, raising an eyebrow.

‘No, that’s not right. It was something like it.’

‘Donald Duck?’ I suggested.

‘Quiet, Andy’ said Hobbes. ‘Rupert will get there in a moment.’

‘I know. I’ve got to find Daphne Duckworth.’

‘Daphne?’ I said, suddenly hot and angry. ‘What do you want with her?’

‘Shh,’ said Hobbes quietly.

I shushed, despite feeling a strange desire to protect her, although I wasn’t quite sure from what.

‘What,’ asked Hobbes, ‘are you going to do to the lady?’

‘Nothing. I’ve only got to find out where she lives and what she’s doing.’

‘Why?’

‘I dunno. My father says she’s trouble like her old man was, but I don’t know what he wants with her. Maybe he just wants to keep an eye on her, but he can be a right bastard sometimes.’

‘So,’ asked Hobbes, his smile still friendly, though his voice was sharp, ‘do you think she might be in danger?’

Rupert shrugged. ‘Dunno. He doesn’t employ Denny to be nice to people. He’s not nice to me.’

‘So, you suspect your father might get this Denny to do something unpleasant to Mrs Duckworth.’