Read Online It’s a Battlefield by Graham Greene - Free Book Online

Assistant Commissioner. . . . He may know how to hang a few natives in the jungle, but he’s no good for London.’
    â€˜I wouldn’t say you were wrong about him, Mr Conder. There are a lot of us at the Yard who don’t like him. The trouble is he wants to know too much. He won’t leave things alone. The Yard’s a complicated place. You can’t know it all. You can’t know all there is about finger-prints if you are going to know all there is about blood tests. He won’t understand that. He wants a finger in every pie. F’rinstance, Mr Conder, it would surprise you if you knew where he was tonight. It’s his own fault if he gets himself hurt one of these days.’
    Conder put down his glass suddenly, and the beer slopped over on to the marble top of the table. ‘What’s that?’ Somebody fell up the stairs. ‘For God’s sake stop talking shop, Patmore. They are coming up.’
    The woman in black velvet frou-froued to the door. ‘Quaietly, quaietly, Mr Rowlett,’ she breathed to somebody outside. A flushed young man came in. ‘Look here, Miss Chick,’ he said.
    â€˜It’s nace to see your face,’ Miss Chick said.
    â€˜The fellers pushed me from behind. They’re all drunk in the bar. Ought to call a policeman.’ He stared at Patmore with a glazed eye and then went out again hurriedly. ‘You oughtn’t to think any harm of him,’ Miss Chick said, trailing back to her corner and the beer bottles.
    â€˜It’s not safe here, Patmore,’ Conder said. ‘That man Bennett is a suspicious creature. He’d never understand there was no harm in my meeting you.’
    â€˜All I want to know, Mr Conder, is what was said about Drover tonight.’
    â€˜Why?’
    â€˜We want to know what’s thought about the case.’
    â€˜There you are again. That’s Scotland Yard all over. You go on worrying about a man you’ve got, but you don’t know from Adam who cut up Mrs Crowle. I tell you, Patmore, a journalist sees a lot, but that trunk gave me the biggest turn of my life. Old-fashioned, the kind of thing my mother used to take to the sea, and inside thick with blood. Blue stripes like a shirt and thick with blood.’
    â€˜I could tell you something about that, Mr Conder. We aren’t as slow as you think.’
    Conder sipped his beer, his bald gleaming head bent; for a moment he forgot Bennett while he followed a story through the dark streets towards Euston in the wake of a fast car. ‘You go and release Ruttledge just because of a few finger-prints.’
    â€˜We had no call to keep Ruttledge.’
    â€˜You go on worrying about Drover.’
    â€˜That’s what I want, Mr Conder. Just what did happen tonight about Drover? There were speeches of course, but was anything arranged? Any demonstration? Any propaganda? How did they take it?’
    â€˜You are asking a great deal, Patmore,’ Conder said. ‘You are asking me to betray my friends. Two more Basses, Miss Chick.’
    â€˜It’s just an exchange of stories, Mr Conder. I’ll be able to give you a first-class sensation for your midday edition.’
    â€˜You can promise that, exclusive, for certain?’
    â€˜Yes, Mr Conder.’
    â€˜Well, I’ll tell you. Surrogate spoke and Bennett spoke and someone from the garage tried to speak. That’s all. Nothing’s going to be done about Drover. Everyone’ll sign the petition, of course. But you can take it from me, Drover’s forgotten. He’s as good as taken the drop already. What they are interested in is this fellow at Aldershot who’s been given two months for distributing papers. They’ll make the hell of a noise about him.’
    â€˜Thank you, Mr Conder. That’s all I wanted to know.’
    â€˜Well, then, drink up your Bass and come away.’
    â€˜How are the children, Mr