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Amiss; Robert (Fictitious Character),
Civil Service - Great Britain - Fiction,
Amiss; Robert (Fictitious Character) - Fiction
Illingworth, Thomas and yourself.’
Amiss was beginning to feel distinctly uneasy. He stayed silent.
‘We have eliminated Mr Sloan because of his heart condition.’
Amiss couldn’t quarrel with that. Poor old Sloan couldn’t walk ten yards without difficulty.
‘We are therefore looking at the remaining six for someone with a grudge. You wouldn’t, I suppose, dispute that Mr Underhill had no possible motive to ruin his own seminar. Or that he is happy in this job?’
‘No, I wouldn’t,’ said Amiss hopelessly.
‘And would you also agree that Mr Collins’s recent promotion also rules him out motive-wise?’
Amiss wasn’t so sure that Charlie didn’t still have it in for PD, but he wasn’t about to rat on him. ‘Yes, I suppose so.’
‘That leaves four of you. Your three colleagues may have some resentment about poor promotion chances. You yourself have made no secret of your dissatisfaction with PD.’
Amiss was nettled. ‘I think I’ve been very restrained about it really.’
‘We know you complained to Personnel Division.’
‘That was ages ago. I’ve settled down. Anyway, I’ll be going back to the civil service within six months. Why should I screw things up now?’
‘I thought you’d say that,’ said Lorre smugly. ‘And it might have counted for something if we hadn’t had additional evidence against you.’
‘In addition,’ Greenstreet chimed in, ‘to the fact that you concealed your practical joke on Mr Short.’
That again? ‘Let’s not argue about that now. What’s the additional evidence?’
‘You were seen at 1:00 a.m. walking down a corridor in Block H towards the exit door, wearing your overcoat.’
‘I wasn’t walking towards the exit door, you idiot,’ yelled Amiss. ‘I was going to the bathroom which is directly opposite it to get rid of some of the beer I’d been drinking all evening!’
‘Wearing an overcoat?’
‘Certainly wearing an overcoat. I didn’t have a dressing gown.’
‘Ah, ha!’ said Greenstreet. ‘The block is centrally heated. Why didn’t you just wear your pyjamas?’
‘I don’t wear pyjamas. I sleep naked.’
This obviously shocked them more than his earlier revelation about drunkenness. Lorre recovered himself first.
‘Well, why did you leave the bar for ten minutes at 9:15?’
‘Because I had left my briefcase, containing the book I was reading, in the seminar room. I told you that before.’
‘Your explanations are all very glib, Mr Amiss, but they don’t convince us. The other people with opportunity and possible motive – people with no record of irresponsible behaviour – have all been very frank with us.’
‘What about whoever tipped you off about the PD practical jokes? Wasn’t that an attempt to point the finger at Tiny? Doesn’t that look suspicious?’
‘I am not prepared to discuss that with you. We shall be reporting to Mr Shipton now. I suggest you return to your office and wait to hear from him.’
As Amiss sat brooding at his desk he kicked himself for not having put up a better fight. He had annoyed them, patronized them and shouted at them. Of course they wanted him to be the villain of the piece: he was the one everyone would choose. And paltry as the whole thing was, and however leaky the case against him, it was going to make things very difficult here if it became known that he was the main suspect. Perhaps Shipton would suggest he sloped quietly back to the Department? That would look great on his career record: secondment aborted in suspicious circumstances.
When Shipton rang and asked him to come in, he walked slowly up the corridor trying to nerve himself for conflict. He wasn’t surprised to see Shipton looking more animated than usual.
‘Sit down, Robert. I’ve had the report from Security. They seem very convinced you’re at the bottom of this.’
Amiss’s heart sank. He might have known Shipton would want to go along with them. It would make life easier.
‘You mean you
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