Gently with the Ladies (18 page)

‘Have you a rope?’

‘That’s no use. She says she’ll jump if anyone goes near her.’

‘Just get a rope and bring it up to us. And don’t let any Pressmen into the building.’

Stockbridge’s expression said it was too late, but Reynolds didn’t wait to find out. Followed by Gently he jumped up the steps, ran through the hall and into the lift. The doors crashed shut and they glided upwards.

‘First we’ll talk to her,’ Reynolds said. ‘Mrs Bannister’s veranda is on that level, we’ll go out there and try talking her in.’

‘And if she won’t come?’

‘We’ll still keep talking to her. But I’ll go up to the next floor with a rope. Then if the fire service can rig a net I’ll take a chance of dropping a noose on her.’

‘Not much of a chance.’

‘I’m good with a rope. If she starts to sway I’ll have her.’

They came out on the sixth floor landing. The first person they saw was Albertine. She was wailing and sobbing, and when she saw Gently she ran to him wildly and seized his arm.

‘Monsieur – Monsieur! Oh, please, please . . . !’

‘Out of the way, Albertine.’

‘It isn’t my fault, no, no. Oh get her in. Get her in!’

He shook her off, but she stuck at his elbow as they hurried through into the flat.

‘Monsieur – Monsieur!’

‘Be quiet, Albertine.’

‘It isn’t my fault. Oh get her in!’

At the door of the lounge stood Sybil Bannister with an expression of distaste on her fine features.

‘I shouldn’t be in too much of a hurry,’ she said cuttingly. ‘The sight of a policeman out there will probably do it.’

‘Have you talked to her, Mrs Bannister?’ Reynolds asked.

‘Oh yes. I’ve talked to her once or twice.’

How long has she been there?’

‘Since breakfast, I’d say. She’s certainly been there a couple of hours.’

‘A couple of hours!’ Reynolds’ grey eyes crucified her. ‘And nobody’s done anything until now?’

‘It’s a free country, Inspector,’ she said mockingly. ‘Unbalanced people may stand on ledges. Besides, does it matter? That is not my impression. I imagine Miss Merryn knows what she is doing.’

‘And you’d just let her jump?’ Reynolds said.

‘Why not? It will save the taxpayers money.’

He brushed past her into the lounge. She looked at Gently.

‘Crude,’ she said.

Albertine was still moaning ‘Monsieur . . . Monsieur,’ and hanging to Gently like a ghost.

‘You stay here, Albertine,’ Gently said.

‘Monsieur, it is not my fault, it is not what I said!’

‘Of course it is, you stupid goose,’ Sybil Bannister flung at her. ‘That’s exactly what it is. Your silly tongue drove her to it.’

‘No, Madame, no, no!’

‘Oh yes. But for you she would have got away with it.’

‘Madame, no. I know nothing of that. I tell them only she is there.’

‘And that’s enough, you poor idiot. She’s going to jump, and you’re responsible.’

‘Oh, no, no!’

‘Go on the veranda. You may as well see her hit the pavement.’

Albertine gave a whimpering cry. Gently caught her round the shoulders.

‘And you, Mrs Bannister,’ he said. ‘Won’t you be coming on the veranda?’

‘Oh no. I’m squeamish, Superintendent.’

‘I wouldn’t have thought it likely. With your experience.’

Her eyes slitted. ‘With my what?’

‘Wouldn’t you have identified your husband’s body?’

Her breath came hissingly and she stared hate at him. But she made no reply.

‘All right, Albertine,’ Gently said. ‘You’re not responsible for anything. Miss Merryn didn’t know what you’d told us. That isn’t the reason why she’s out there.’

‘Monsieur, oh please do something for her!’

‘We’ll do everything we can.’

‘Let me help!’

‘You stay here. Let nobody else into the flat.’

He went through and on to the veranda. From there Brenda Merryn’s position was very plain. She was standing with closed eyes and with hands pressed to the cement facing on an ornamental tiled cornice set at the level of the veranda. Except for a narrow window some yards distant a blank wall stretched all around her. There was nothing to grasp. The first sway would send her plunging seventy feet.

She stood quite still, her head drawn back. She might have been basking in the watery sun. Her make-up was smeared around the mouth and had a soiled, stale greyness. Her face had no expression and no tension so that she could have been asleep. One of the diamond-pattern stockings had a ladder. On her forehead was a mist of sweat.

Below, after a recession of angled projections, green dormer-caps and the porch cornice, lay the neat squared pavement which fronted the entrance to the block. It was bare. The staring crowd had left a wide semicircle at that point. Nearest to it was the T.V. van and its big upward-pointing eye. And outwards stretched the slate roofscapes on either side of the quiet street to the embankment and the Thames and the trafficked span of the Albert Bridge.

‘What for the love of Christ can one say,’ Reynolds whispered without turning his head. ‘That hag inside is probably right. When Merryn sees us, she’ll jump.’

‘What about your rope trick.’

‘It’s not on. See how she’s pressed against the wall.’

‘We should have a man on that window.’

‘Two more cars have come. I’ll phone down.’

He slipped away on tiptoe, though in fact there was a steady murmur of sound from below, and one could hear, from the direction of Millbank, the approaching clamour of a fire-engine. More heads were staring up from the dormers and cameras were held out and clicked. An attic window opened in the nearest building and a telephoto lens was trained through it. Gently looked at Brenda Merryn. Nothing seemed to disturb her. She remained in her trance of stillness, her hands spread on the rough facing.

‘Miss Merryn,’ he said.

‘Go away, George.’

Her immediate response was uncanny. It was as though she’d known very well he was close to her and had been anticipating he would speak. Yet her eyes were closed.

‘Miss Merryn,’ he said. ‘Where have you been since you left me last night?’

‘Around and about,’ she said. ‘Mostly around. But about too. Around and about.’

‘Why didn’t you go home?’

‘Don’t ask silly questions. They sound so pathetic from where I’m standing. I’d nobody to go home to, so I didn’t go home. It’s the way it gets you. Silly answer.’

‘Did you just drive about London?’

‘Yes, London and other places. Like Paris and New York. Or it might have been Rochester.’

‘What were you doing there?’

‘Say I was looking for a sailor. Go away George. And tell them if they put their bloody ladder up, I’ll do it.’

Reynolds came tiptoeing back.

‘Is she talking to you?’ he whispered.

‘Send a message down to that fire-engine. She says she’ll jump if they use the ladder.’

Reynolds swore under his breath. ‘They have to make that stupid din,’ he said. ‘If they’d come quietly they might have nabbed her.’

Gently shook his head. ‘I think she’s watching.’

Reynolds said. ‘I’ve manned the window. We just beat a press-photographer to it. And I’m having them send us a couple of policewomen and a constable who spends his leave rock-climbing. I want to talk to those firemen. I think we could rig something on the roof. If we could drop a man in safety-harness he might grab her before she goes.’

‘She’ll go. If she wants to.’

‘Talk to her, Chief. You may win.’

Reynolds glided away again. Gently went on watching Brenda Merryn. She hadn’t moved or flickered an eyelid while he and Reynolds had whispered together. But now she said casually:

‘I don’t like Reynolds. I think it’s his moustache, it’s too damn British. And he’s, what shall I say, too full of his own efficiency. He’ll never be a big man like you.’

‘Are you feeling big?’ Gently said.

‘Tired,’ she said. ‘Tired, George. And it’s nice just to stand here with the sun warming me and knowing all my problems are solved. I feel so happy and content. I needn’t open my eyes again. Don’t let anyone come interfering with me. I don’t even want a cigarette.’

‘Your father will have to know, of course.’

‘Daddy. He’s very understanding. He wouldn’t want me to stay on here if there was nothing for me to stay on for. I’ve written him a little letter, you know. It’s in the glove-compartment of my car.’

‘Why did you come to me last night?’

‘I wanted to. That’s all.’

‘Why?’

‘There isn’t any why. It was suddenly with me. Women are like that. Oh, I wanted some other things too, like Uncle Creavey’s thousands, and getting even with Siggy. But they were just by the way.’

‘Condemning your brother-in-law was by the way?’

‘Getting even with him was what I said, George. I don’t condemn him. I’m not a Christian. But I wasn’t going to let him get away with it. You see, I didn’t altogether hate Clytie and I think she had moments of liking me. We weren’t quite sisters so we weren’t quite enemies. In a sense you could call us friendly neutrals. But I don’t think you’re going to understand that, are you, because I did for myself, coming to you. I made a mistake, George, I thought you’d be with me. Damn silly. I always lose.’

‘In fact, you offered me bribes and false witness.’

‘Both. But that wasn’t my mistake.’

‘What sort of an impression could you have hoped to make?’

‘It depended so much on you, didn’t it?’

Her lips quivered, and he could see her fingers pushing harder against the cement. Below, a man was stationed on an expanding ladder, but Reynolds was also there talking to the crewmen.

‘I knew I’d lost, George. When I drove away. When I waited at the lights at Finchley Road. It was a big throw, all or nothing, and it didn’t come off: you slapped me down. Because you had to believe that Siggy had done it. Or you had to want me enough so it didn’t matter. And it wasn’t the one way or the other. I was just left driving away in the night.’

‘There’s still time to give me a straight statement.’

Her head moved almost imperceptibly. ‘No. Too late. I told you too much in the wrong sort of way. Because you think Siggy is innocent. That was my mistake.’

‘It doesn’t follow you are guilty.’

‘Not while I’m standing here, does it? Don’t bother, George. I can imagine the things one usually tries on these occasions. Keep patient talking. Talk is therapeutic. Talk helps to resolve the depressive tendency. Suggest optimistic views. Offer food. But keep patient talking on any subject.’ She paused. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘Perhaps you do care a little about me, George. But it can never be much, not after last night, so don’t bother kidding me. I’m sunk.’

‘I can only repeat what I said, Miss Merryn. Other people are involved besides yourself.’

‘But I offered bribes and false witness, didn’t I? And I was there. Now you can prove it.’

‘I can prove it?’

Her lips twisted. ‘La Bannister saw me. I didn’t know that. I’m not sure La Bannister knows it either, but her false witness is doubtless better than mine.’

‘Mrs Bannister told you this?’

‘Hasn’t she told you? Oh, but she will when you give her a chance. She was out on the veranda before you got here, giving me a few valedictory words. But notice I say that she’s a liar. I’m pretty damn certain she didn’t see me.’

‘Did she say where she saw you?’

‘Here, she said. She’ll have details ready, by now.’

‘When did she say this?’

‘What does it matter. When she was last out here before you came.’

Gently was silent. Above the murmur of the crowd he could hear Reynolds’ voice giving instructions. The man on the ladder was climbing down again though with apparent reluctance. Out of the van they were lugging equipment which included booms and a big pulley. Another police car was approaching. Two constables were moving about in the crowd.

‘If they’re planning something,’ Brenda Merryn said, ‘you’d better shout down and tell them to lay off. Tell them I appreciate their attention, of course. But the first rope I see, I’ll be on my way.’

‘Miss Merryn,’ Gently said.

‘Brenda, George.’

‘Miss Merryn, I want you to listen carefully. I believe you have evidence of critical importance, and I need to have a statement from you.’

Her lips went wry again. ‘Of critical importance to whom?’

‘To us. To the investigation of this case.’

‘But not to me.’

‘To you too.’

Her head moved. ‘Too late,’ she said. ‘I cared once. I don’t now. If last night hadn’t happened and you were asking me the truth I’d give it to you. But not now.’

‘You don’t care any longer who killed your stepsister?’

‘I can ask her myself in twenty minutes. You’d better have a medium on tap. I’ll try to pass back a message.’

‘If it wasn’t you—’

‘I tell you I don’t care.’

‘Miss Merryn—’

‘Go away, George,’ she said. ‘You won’t call me Brenda, which is all that matters. I’m going to jump. Go away.’

Someone touched his shoulder. It was Reynolds. He was holding his finger to his lips.

‘Shsh! They’re on their way up, Chief. Keep her at it. It’ll be O.K.’

Gently shook his head. ‘She knows they’re up to something.’

‘The bloody bitch. We’ll have to try it.’

‘No. She’ll jump.’

‘What do we do then?’

‘Put a net out. Hope.’

The fire-crew, augmented by a second brigade, assembled and manned a catching-net. Brenda Merryn didn’t seem to notice the stretched grey canvas that bloomed below her. Perhaps she guessed what the fire-chief was saying: ‘She’ll be damned lucky not to go clean through it!’ – or perhaps she imagined she could throw herself clear. From the veranda the net was not impressive.

Reynolds’ two policewomen arrived. One was a plain-faced girl with huge hips. The other had a snub nose and freckles and a degree of brusque charm. Her name was Fairley. At her request she was left alone with Brenda Merryn. In the lounge one heard her voice, sympathetically homely, engaged in continuous monologue.

‘She’s pretty good,’ Reynolds said to Gently. ‘I’d as soon have Fairley there as anyone. What did Merryn talk about?’