Princes Gate (42 page)

“Do you wish the Italian government to do anything further, if we hear no more from our contacts?”

“No. If the Fuhrer wants to try again, I shall use a different route to the American President. I also understand that there is a good prospect of Lord Halifax succeeding Chamberlain in the near future. A more sensitive approach to Roosevelt together with a new, more sensible Prime Minister, may yet pull the English out of the fire, though I doubt it. No Ricardo,” he put his arm around Giambelli’s shoulders, “all we require of Italy is that it finally gets off the fence and commits wholeheartedly to its destiny in full partnership with the Third Reich!”

Ribbentrop insisted on refilling his guest’s glass and they clinked glasses. “Prost, my friend. To the Fuhrer and his, and our, glorious futures.”

Edward Fraser was oblivious to the screech of brakes outside his apartment building. He turned to the final page of his book, read, then closed the book with a satisfied sigh. He set down Mr Pickwick, then toyed with the two other books which had been resting on his side-table. Nickleby or Dorrit – which shall it be? He plumped for Nickleby. He’d read it before of course, more than once, but he needed to continue with his comfort reading at this difficult time. He rose, tossed his chosen book into the open suitcase at his feet and stretched his arms. There was a knock at his door. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle.

Merlin followed Johnson and Bridges into the room as Fraser retreated hesitantly to an armchair by the window. Merlin saw that Fraser seemed dressed for travel and noticed the suitcase next to his chair. The decoration of the room followed the style of the building. Merlin liked art deco and he particularly liked the lamp on the desk in the corner. A languid young female draped in scanty robes holding a globe aloft.

“I suppose you’re still pestering me about that accident. As I’ve told you several times, I had nothing to do with it. My car hit a deer. That’s the truth. Anyway, couldn’t this wait till Monday. I’m just off to the country.”

Johnson glanced at Merlin, who was examining the lamp with interest. “It’s your show, Peter, but perhaps before you get to your business, I could ask Mr Fraser a couple of questions.”

“Of course.”

“I’m Detective Chief Inspector Merlin. These other gentlemen are Detective Sergeant Bridges and Constable Cole. Inspector Johnson you already know.”

“A hell of a lot of policemen for a little case like this.”

“That’s as may be. As it happens, I want to ask you about something other than the case you’ve been discussing with the Inspector here.”

“Oh, Christ. What now?” He waved his arms in frustration and sat down.

“Do you, or rather did you, know a Miss Joan Harris?”

Fraser muttered something to himself and ran his right hand rapidly through his hair. “Yes, I knew Joan. Friend of a friend. Nice girl. Heard she died. A great pity.”

“Were you particularly friendly with her, sir?”

“I wouldn’t say particularly friendly. She was friendly with a chap called Arthur Norton. I saw her with him.”

“Never on your own, sir?”

“No, I don’t believe so.”

“You never accompanied her on a doctor’s visit, for example?” Merlin thought he detected a slight colouring of Fraser’s cheeks and a tremor in his hands.

“No.”

“That’s strange, sir, because we have an identification of you from a Dr Jones. He says he remembers you accompanying Miss Harris at his surgery on January 3
^rd
.”

Fraser’s mouth moved but no words came out. Eventually he found his voice. “Sorry. I remember now. I went with her just the once. Norton had stopped seeing her. She was worried about something.”

“About being pregnant?”

“Well, yes. She was in a bit of a state and asked me to accompany her. As a gentleman I didn’t like to refuse.”

“So, this was just a gentlemanly favour, sir?”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t have a relationship with Miss Harris?”

“No. No, I didn’t.”

“You work with Mr Freddie Douglas, don’t you?”

“I do.”

Merlin thought for a moment and then nodded at Johnson.

“The Inspector has something to say to you. I’ll have some more questions to ask you later.”

Fraser gave a slight inclination of his head.

“Mr Fraser, we have found proof of your involvement in the hit and run case…”

“What proof?” Fraser’s eyes roamed around the room, avoiding eye contact with any of the policemen.

“We have fingerprint evidence which was found on the victim’s briefcase. Conclusive against your…”

Fraser jumped to his feet and pointed a finger angrily at Johnson. “But you haven’t got my fingerprints.”

“We have received copies from the Foreign Office.”

“That can’t be right. How could you…?” Fraser walked to the window and leant his head against the glass.

“Now, sir, I am going to place you under arrest and caution you that…”

Fraser turned and walked back towards them, running his hand again through his hair. “Alright. I understand. Anything I say may be taken down in evidence. Look. I’m dying for a pee, so do you mind if I…” He waved behind him.

“Alright, but hurry up.”

“As quick as I can, old boy.” He disappeared through the door behind him.

Merlin found a small sculpture of a naked lady to admire. “Lovely, isn’t it, Sergeant?”

“Not really my sort of thing, sir.”

Merlin walked over to a bookshelf and inspected its contents while Bridges and Johnson stared out of the window at a party of children flying kites in Cadogan Gardens. A minute or so passed and Johnson turned and shouted out. “Come on, Mr Fraser. Time to go.”

There was no reply. Merlin put a first edition Conrad down. “El Diablo! Oldest trick in the game.” He ran into Fraser’s bedroom. Opposite the bed was a locked door and he made way for Cole to make a run at it. In the empty bathroom there was a horizontal window above the washbasin, just large enough for a man to squeeze through. The window was off its latch. Merlin climbed up and looked out. The weather had cleared for now and he could see a narrow ledge extended ten or so yards to the right of the window. He could see the top of a ladder attached to the ledge at the end. “What idiots we are. There’s a fire escape here. Come on, Constable. You’re the fit one. You go.”

Cole squeezed through the window and made for the ladder. “I can see him, sir. He’s getting close to the ground.”

“Off you go then. Be careful. It will be slippery. Sergeant, you follow Cole. Johnson and I’ll take the lift.”

“I’ll go down the ladder, sir. I think I’m a little nimbler than the Sergeant.”

“Alright, Peter.”

Bridges nodded his thanks as Johnson clambered out of the window.

They found the lift waiting for them. When they reached the street Johnson was almost at the bottom of the ladder. He turned and shouted. “Sloane Square!”

Merlin spotted Cole weaving his way through some pedestrians halfway down Sloane Avenue. “Start the car, Sergeant.” Johnson jumped in and the tyres screamed as Bridges floored the accelerator. A delivery van swerved on to the pavement by the Cadogan Hotel as the car cut across the road. In Sloane Square they saw Cole running across the road and into a large crowd milling outside the Peter Jones department store. “There he is.” Merlin followed Johnson’s finger and saw Fraser’s head bobbing up and down on the far side of the Square. “To the station, Sergeant. That’s where he’s heading.”

Bridges pulled up at the pavement outside the Tube and they all jumped out. Fraser reached the opposite kerb and looked across, meeting Merlin’s eyes. A large party of giggling uniformed girls suddenly emerged from the tube station and swarmed around the policemen. A penetrating female voice rang out.

“Now, children, we are turning left here. The Royal Hospital is not far away. Follow me. Single file if you please. Miss Davies, please take up the rear. Patricia, behave yourself or you’ll not be coming on another outing like this again.”

Cole had got within yards of Fraser but had tripped and was on the ground. Fraser saw him, thought for a second, then ran to his right down Sloane Gardens. Cole got to his feet as Merlin and the other two policemen struggled to extricate themselves from the school party. Merlin waved Cole towards Sloane Gardens.

Fraser had gained a hundred yards or so. He rounded a corner and ran towards the next road junction. In the distance, on the far side of Lower Sloane Street, he saw a taxi pull up. He was exhausted but somehow managed to pick up his pace. A passenger was getting out of the taxi. He reached the junction and shouted. “Stop. Taxi.”

The taxi driver heard him and waited. Fraser looked behind him and saw Cole round the corner. He turned and ran into the road. He was almost safe, he thought. He’d get to Paddington and somehow… There was a flash of red, then a sickening thud and he felt a searing pain. As he fell to the ground, all he could see was the taxi driver’s face. He could see lips moving. Then everything went dark.

Merlin paced back and forth in his office, chewing anxiously on a Fisherman’s Friend. He was worried that Fraser would die on him before he’d got to the bottom of everything. They’d followed the ambulance to the hospital where, after something of a wait, they’d been told that Fraser was unconscious and fighting for his life. Merlin had arranged for Robinson to maintain a vigil in the hospital, so that he would know immediately of any improvement or deterioration in Fraser’s condition. Then he’d sent Johnson, Bridges and Cole back to Fraser’s flat to conduct a thorough search.

The telephone rang.

“Yes. Hello. Beatrice. A letter from Charlie? That’s wonderful! Where is he? Oh, yes of course he can’t tell you that. He’s in good shape? Yes. Let’s keep our fingers crossed that he stays that way. He was always a tough lad. Yes. If I can I’ll be over for lunch tomorrow. As always, there’s a case on but I’ll let you know for certain later on. Love to Paul.”

Thank God for that, he thought. Charlie was a survivor. He’d made it so far. The telephone rang again. “Yes, Robinson. He’s awake is he? I’ll be right there.”

As he reached for his coat, the telephone rang a third time. “You’ve found what, Peter? Look I’m just heading off to the hospital. Fraser’s just woken up. Bring what you’ve found and meet me there. Bridges and Cole? Well if they want to carry on searching, let them. See you shortly.”

Having despatched Robinson back to the Yard, they waited impatiently in a narrow corridor of the Westminster Hospital. The antiseptic smells Merlin so hated were everywhere. Despite his best efforts, images of Alice and that awful leukaemia ward in St. Mary’s inevitably floated through his mind. A short, barrel-chested man in a white coat eventually arrived. “The name’s Lewis. Pleased to meet you. Now this chap has had a very bad knock. The bus bashed his head quite severely and he’s broken a few bones.”

“Will he live?”

“Touch and go. I understand this accident occurred when he was running away from you?”

“He was. Inspector Johnson and I are investigating a number of violent deaths. Fraser appears to have been responsible for one and was helping us with our enquiries about another.”

“Serious stuff then?”