Read Online Wilt in Nowhere by Tom Sharpe - Free Book Online Page B

own question. ‘I assume you always keep it

    locked, sir?’
    ‘Of course I do. I’m not a damned fool. Don’t want it stolen, do I?’
    ‘And you locked it tonight, sir?’
    ‘What do you think? Asking dumb questions like that,’ said Battleby. ‘Of course I locked

    it.’
    ‘Just making sure, sir. You see, the firemen had to break the side window to move it out

    into the road, sir.’ There could be no mistaking the purpose of the repeated ’sir’, at

    least not for Mrs Rottecombe. It was intended to provoke and it succeeded.
    ‘What the fuck did they do that for? That’s breaking and entering. They had no right

    to–’
    ‘Because you had locked it, sir, as you have just admitted. The fire engines couldn’t

    get into the yard, sir,’ said the Superintendent. More provocation. He said it slowly

    as though explaining the matter to a backward child. ‘And now, sir, if you’d be so good as

    to give me the keys I’ll–’
    But Battleby had been baited far enough. ‘Oh, fuck off, copper,’ he said, ‘and mind your

    own business. My bloody house burns to the ground and all you want to do is–’
    ‘Give him the keys, Bob,’ said Mrs Rottecombe firmly. Battleby swore again and groped

    in his pockets and finally found them. He tossed them towards the Superintendent who

    picked them off the ground and made a show of unlocking the door on the passenger’s

    side.
    ‘If you wouldn’t mind, sir, I’d like you to look at this material, sir,’ he said,

    blocking Mrs Rottecombe’s view and switching on the interior light. Lying on the seat

    beside the gag and the handcuffs were the magazines. The Superintendent stood back and

    let Battleby see them. For a moment he gaped at them.
    ‘Who the fuck put them there?’
    ‘I was hoping you could tell me that, sir,’ said the Superintendent and moved away so

    that Mrs Rottecombe could see the collection. Her reaction was more informative. It

    was also more calculated.
    ‘Oh, Bob, how revolting! Where on earth did you buy that filth?’
    Battleby turned his bloated face on her lividly. ‘Where did I buy it? I didn’t buy it

    anywhere. I don’t know what it’s doing there.’
    ‘Are you saying someone gave it to you, sir? If so, would mind telling me who–’
    ‘No, I’m fucking not,’ Battleby shouted, totally losing control of his temper. Mrs

    Rottecombe backed away from him. She knew now that she had to distance herself from him.

    Being the friend of a man who had pictures of children being raped and tortured was the

    last thing she needed. Tying Bob up and whipping him was one thing but sadistic

    paedophilia…And the police were definitely involved now. She wanted out. The

    Superintendent took a step closer to Battleby and peered into his purple face and

    bloodshot eyes.
    ‘If you didn’t buy this material and no one gave it to you, just tell me how it happens

    to be in your car, your locked car, sir. You tell me that. You’re not suggesting it got in

    there by itself, are you, sir?’
    There was no doubting his sarcasm now. This was interrogation proper. Mrs

    Rottecombe made an attempt to get away.
    ‘If you don’t mind…’ she began but the Superintendent’s tactics had achieved the

    object he had been hoping for. Battleby took a drunken swing at his face. The

    Superintendent made no attempt to dodge the blow; it struck him full on the nose and blood

    ran down his chin. He was almost smiling. The next moment Battleby’s arms were behind his

    back, he was handcuffed and a large Sergeant was frogmarching him to a police car.
    ‘I think we had better continue this interview in a calmer atmosphere,’ said the

    Superintendent, not bothering to wipe the blood from his face. ‘I’m afraid you’ll have to

    accompany us too, Mrs Rottecombe. I know it’s very late but we’ll need a statement from

    you. It’s not just a case of assaulting a police officer in the course of his duty.

    There’s Possession of