Extract From "The Fly Pool."
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Extract From 'The Fly Pool.'
Curles Bridge
Police Sergeant Barlow looked at the portrait of the Queen. He, his old
boss, and the King had taken up their appointments on the same day. Now
the other two were gone, and Acting District Inspector Harvey had the King’s
portrait down and Elizabeth’s up within an hour of taking over. Not
that Barlow had anything against the new Queen.
Barlow stood on, oblivious to the altercation at the front desk between Constable
Jackson and the tramp. Jackson’s temper was beginning to unravel. ‘This
isn’t a hotel, you know. And leave that fire alone.’
Mr Edward Adair, gentleman, and tramp by profession, gave the coals a final poke. ‘But
it’s Christmas, no man should be alone at Christmas. Please inform Mr Barlow
that Edward would appreciate the same room.’
‘Cells. They’re cells. And you can’t just book in.’
‘But, my dear chap, I always do.’
Jackson leaned over the counter and threatened Edward with a pencil. ‘If
you don’t leave right now I’ll do you for wasting police time.’
Edward smiled and warmed his hands at the flames. Jackson sighed in relief as
Barlow paced slowly into the room, his face set in a pout of thought.
Jackson
said, ‘Sergeant, this man won’t go.’
‘Changed times, Edward,’ said Barlow, to the tramp.
‘And my accommodation for the festive season?’
‘New inspector, new rules. There’s more than you catching it.’
Edward vibrated with indignation. ‘So it’s like that, Mr Barlow.
After all these years?’
‘Aye.’
‘And a happy Christmas to you,’ said Edward stiffly, and left.
Jackson scratched at himself to remove the fleas. ‘Sarge, who is that old
drunk?’
Barlow shot behind the desk and prodded Jackson hard in the chest. ‘That
old drunk, as you call him, is Mister Edward Adair.’
He prodded a second time. Jackson said, ‘Easy, Sarge,’ and retreated.
‘And Mister Edward Adair is a friend of the Chairman of the
Police Authority. And….’ The finger pushed gently against Jackson’s
cringing breastbone, ‘Call me “Sarge” again, and you’ll
be on nights between now and kingdom come.’
Jackson heard Acting District Inspector Harvey’s tiptoe step in the corridor;
he made himself busy straightening the Incident Book.
Barlow raised his voice. ‘Are you looking for something, sir?’
Harvey stepped into view. ‘Jackson, new Orders of the Day.’ He slapped
a sheet of paper on the counter and marched off.
The sheet said:
DAILY ORDERS
Kirktown is now a ‘no crime’ area.
Every misdemeanour
will be noted with a view to prosecution.
Barlow grunted and left, he was due on duty again that night for the Annual
Rotary Ball. By tradition it was held in the town hall on the Friday before
Christmas, and Sergeant Barlow was always there to greet the Rotarians
and their guests as they arrived. Early as he was the tramp, Edward, was
there before him.
‘It’s cold,’ said Edward, and pulled his greatcoat tighter
round him.
‘No it’s not.’
‘Whatever pleases you.’ Edward retreated to the other side of the
steps.
Two of the Dunlops from Hell’s Kitchen passed. They were taking an
interest in the parked cars.
Constable Jackson stood nearby, trying to look useful. Barlow called him
over. ‘Move that lot on, son.’
Jackson squared himself off and set his hat firmly on his head. Barlow
said, ‘Those boys have a quick temper. You start anything, and you’re
on your own.’
He left Jackson to it and turned to greet the mayor, Sam Martin, and his
good lady as they arrived in the official limousine. The mayor acknowledged
Barlow’s salute with a grunt and gave Edward a ten-shilling note.
‘God bless you, and a merry Christmas,’ said Edward.
Barlow looked on sourly as the note disappeared into a pocket. ‘You
wouldn’t like to disappear as well?’ Another couple came and
again a ten-shilling note changed hands.
Acting District Inspector Harvey drove up in his new Triumph saloon. He
wound down the window. ‘Barlow, what are you doing here?’
‘Tradition, sir. The Station Sergeant sees the Rotarians into their Christmas
do.’
Harvey bristled. ‘And makes sure of his Christmas tips in the process.
That is one tradition I intend to stop.’
Instead of replying, Barlow walked round the car and opened the passenger
door for Harvey’s companion. ‘Have a nice evening, Mrs Harvey.’
Harvey said, ‘This is Mrs Carberry, a cousin of our Chairman. Her
husband is away on business...’ He stopped. ‘Really, Barlow,
it’s got nothing to do with you.’
‘No, sir. Of course not, sir.’ Barlow nodded, he all but winked.
Harvey turned stiffly away, and saw Edward pocketing another ten-shilling
note. ‘Sergeant, what is that thing doing here?’
‘Making a fortune,’ said Barlow.
‘Good evening, Edward,’ said Mrs Carberry, and gave him a pound
note.
She walked on. Harvey had to follow, choking.
‘Clear off,’ Barlow told Edward.
‘But my dear chap, this is my best night.’
‘Take it up with the new Station Sergeant. I’m being posted.’
‘After all these years?’ Edward tut-tutted to himself and wandered
off in the direction of the Bridge Bar.
*********************
Barlow came in early the next morning, and found Constable Jackson draped
over the counter. ‘What’s up with you?’ Barlow asked.
He sniffed and got the smell of cigarettes and of the great unwashed.
Jackson levered himself onto his elbows. ‘Not a wink of sleep last
night. I can’t be doing with it, Sergeant.’
‘You young boys, you’ve got no stamina.’
Barlow reached for the Incident Book. Two names leaped out at him. Both
Dunlops, both charged with robbing the Kirktown Brewery. ‘What buck
eejit…?’ He bit off his words.
Jackson blinked rapidly to keep his eyes open. ‘The Dunlop women
were in half the night, drunk as lords and swearing like Tam the devil;
we thought they would never go. Their kids were everywhere. My pencil was
nicked three times.’
‘Bollocks,’ said Barlow, as Edward appeared, beaming from ear
to ear.
‘Mr Barlow, I want to place myself in police custody.’
‘Not now, Edward, not now.’
Edward approached Jackson. ‘Young man,’ he put his hand on
his heart and intoned the words as if swearing a great oath, ‘I,
Edward Charles George Adair, confess that I did, wilfully and deliberately,
and with malice aforethought, cause or compel, by means of threats or other
illegal means, the payment to me of monies by way of blackmail or extortion.
And that in addition...’
Jackson’s mouth was opening wider and wider. Barlow grabbed Edward
by the collar and dragged him to the fire. ‘What the hell are you
talking about?’
‘Blackmail. Blackmail and being a Peeping Tom.’
‘Are you finally loony?’
Edward smiled. ‘As you are aware, my habitual abode is situated under
Curles Bridge. After each ball, a number of the participants retire to
the adjoins and surrounds of the bridge, for social intercourse of a highly
intimate nature.’
‘You mean shagging? You dirty old man.’
‘Shagging yes, dirty no.’ Edward looked offended.
‘So you watch?’
‘One ascertains, one identifies. A nod here, a wink there, everything
perfectly civil, and my comfort is secured, my edification enhanced.’ He
pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it over. ‘Proof of
my culpability. Last night’s participants.’
Barlow said, ‘You don’t want to be here this year, we’ve
got the Dunlops in.’
‘Very nice gentlemen. They supply me with a bottle of best Scotch every
festive season.’
‘Would you shut your mouth,’ said Barlow, and looked at the list
of cars. It gave their make and registration numbers.
Edward said, ‘Some of the participants, particularly the ladies,
tend to be exhibitionist by nature.’
‘What’s exhibitionist?’
‘They find that an appreciative audience enhances their enjoyment.’
‘A year,’ said Barlow. ‘A year of a beer and chaser every
Saturday night.’ He roared for Jackson as if he was at the other end
of the building instead of steps away. ‘Book him?’
Jackson grabbed a pencil. ‘What charge?’
‘Annoying my bloody head!’ snarled Barlow.
‘I know the way,’ said Edward, and disappeared down the corridor.
He was back in a moment. ‘Mr Jackson, how do you like your tea? And would
you find an Ulster fry acceptable if the ingredients happen to be in situ?’
Jackson didn’t know what to say. The phone rang, he grabbed it in
relief. ‘Yes, sir. Right away, sir.’ He said to Barlow. ‘Inspector
Harvey’s looking for you.’
‘Tell him to wait,’ said Barlow, and copied the details from Edward’s
list into his notebook. He wrote slowly, and leaned heavily on the pencil to
make sure the registrations numbers showed up clear. Then he went off to Harvey’s
office where he found Harvey in a good mood.
The edges of Harvey’s lips softened, which was the nearest he ever
got to a smile. ‘Well, Barlow, what do you think?’
‘Sir?’
‘The Dunlops. They robbed the brewery every Christmas, and always on
the night of the Rotary Ball. That is what I have against you, Barlow, you
haven’t the intelligence to see the obvious.’
‘And you caught the Dunlops, sir?’
‘Red handed.’
Harvey waited for Barlow to congratulate him. It didn’t come. He
flushed. ‘Clear your things, I don’t want you back in this
station.’
Barlow nodded and wandered to the door. He stopped with his hand on the
handle. ‘I was wondering, sir. The indecency charges, you’ll
want me back to testify?’
Harvey looked up from his paperwork. ‘What indecency charges?’
Barlow became enthusiastic. ‘This no crime thing of yours, sir. You’re
right, we had got slack and complacent.’
‘What indecency charges?’
‘The cars around Curles Bridge last night.’ Barlow pulled out his
notebook and thumbed slowly through the pages. ‘About half a dozen,
sir, and one was a spank new Triumph just like yours.’
‘What?’
Barlow handed the book over to Harvey. ‘I’ve no head for numbers,
sir, that’s why I wrote them down, careful like.’ He pointed
to one car on the list. ‘But I can swear both those parties were
totally not dressed.’
Harvey was sweating; Barlow didn’t appear to notice.
The Chairman of the Police Authority burst in, red-faced with fury. ‘Harvey,
you’re an idiot. Arresting the Dunlops? What the hell were you thinking
of?’
Harvey tiptoed swiftly round the desk to greet the Chairman. ‘They
were robbing...’
‘They do that every Christmas, dammit!’
‘They what?’ Harvey went grey around the jawbone.
‘Every Christmas,’ roared the Chairman. ‘And while you were
charging them, the rest of the family broke in and stole a lorry load of
drink.’
Harvey’s grey started to look bilious.
The Chairman almost danced with rage. ‘It was an understanding. They
get what does them for Christmas and they leave me alone for the rest of
the year. And they make sure all the other hoods do the same.’ He
jabbed his face hard against Harvey’s. ‘Don’t forget,
Harvey, you’re only here on trial. Another cock-up like this....’
The
Chairman stormed out.
Barlow’s notebook was starting to crumble in Harvey’s hands.
It took a great effort for him to relax his grip. He went back and sat
at his desk. ‘Sergeant... I.…’ He didn’t seem
able to get enough air. He played with his pen; he put it down and picked
it up again.
‘The lady was exhibitionist,’ said Barlow.
Harvey wiped sweat from his forehead. He gritted his teeth and tried to
sound pleasant. ‘We’ve had a bad start. Perhaps when we get
to know each other better?’ He took a notebook out of a drawer and
slid it over. ‘A new notebook, a new year, a fresh beginning?’
‘Fine by me, sir,’ said Barlow.
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