Read Online The Saint Valentine's Day Murders by Ruth Dudley Edwards - Free Book Online

harmless. Lorre looked unimpressed.
    ‘You can do better than that, I’m sure.’
    ‘Perhaps it would be better if I went away and thought about it? Then I can write down what I remember.’
    ‘Good idea,’ said Greenstreet, clearly delighted to have his note-taking cut down.
    Amiss thankfully got up to go. This would give him time to cook up an agreed story with Tiny. ‘Just a moment,’ said Lorre. ‘We want to see Mr Short next. Kindly ask him to come here immediately. And Mr Amiss – no collusion. We shall be keeping Mr Short with us until your list is available.’
    Shit , thought Amiss, stamping back to his office in frustration. They knew already. Who the hell had tipped them off? Now he was well and truly trapped. Presumably they’d get it all out of Tiny. And if not out of him, there would surely be plenty of others anxious to help. He’d have to come clean himself now. Otherwise he’d be seen to be obstructing them.
    After passing the message to a worried-looking Tiny, he retired to his own office to begin his absurd list. He had made the decision to omit anything these clowns might regard as criminal damage to BCC property. His brief notes with approximate dates came to a page, which he put in an envelope and gave to Cathy to take along to 510. When he heard Tiny’s voice again, he called him into his office and explained what had happened. Tiny looked astounded.
    ‘But they told me they’d had a lot of useful information from you and of course I thought you’d spilled the beans.’
    ‘Bastards. I never mentioned you.’
    ‘Oh, Christ,’ wailed Tiny. ‘What was I supposed to think? Why should you cover up for me? I told them everything I could remember about any jokes I or anyone else has ever played here.’
    Amiss groaned. ‘I’ll have to plead absence of mind, I suppose.’
    ‘Well, if you didn’t tell them, who did?’
    ‘If we knew that,’ said Amiss, ‘we’d probably know who’s responsible for the whole Twillerton mess.’

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    11
    « ^ »
    It was two days before Amiss was called to 510 again – two days during which relations among members of his staff had fallen to an all-time low. No one was prepared to talk about what he had told Security, and as no one was thinking about anything else it made normal intercourse almost impossible.
    His interview started inauspiciously. Lorre was looking triumphant and Greenstreet unnaturally grave. Neither of them did more than nod a perfunctory greeting.
    Lorre opened on a challenging note. ‘Would you please explain to us why you omitted to tell us about the following occurrences? First, the placing of jelly in your briefcase.’
    Amiss had already decided to stick to his guns. If he admitted he’d been trying to protect Tiny they probably wouldn’t believe him and would seek some darker motive. Anyway the whole business was so idiotic he couldn’t feel conscience-stricken about telling a few white lies. His mind flashed back to Milton and the contrast between their two moral dilemmas almost made him laugh aloud. As it was, he snorted slightly and then, seeing Lorre’s face, wished he hadn’t. ‘I forgot.’
    ‘And the upended pot plant?’
    ‘I forgot that too.’
    ‘And you will say the same, no doubt, about the drawing pins on your chair and the dirty postcard?’
    Amiss felt self-righteous. Those two he had genuinely forgotten. ‘Yes. Them as well.’
    Lorre looked over at Greenstreet, who shook his head solemnly, shuffled his tidy pile of papers and selected a reference card. ‘You are a graduate in History, Mr Amiss?’
    Amiss was bewildered. ‘Yes.’
    ‘In other words, you have had an education which trained you to remember large numbers of facts?’
    ‘No it didn’t,’ replied Amiss peevishly. ‘It taught me to sift evidence and distinguish the important from the unimportant. That’s probably why I don’t have an encyclopaedic memory for japes and wheezes.’
    ‘There’s no need to be aggressive, Mr Amiss. I