be staying long. This is Detective-Sergeant Jervis.’
Jervis looked an even harder nut than Brunskill. Brunskill was polished and had the suavity that maturity brings, while Jervis still had his sharp corners and was all young, rock-hard cop. But Brunskill would be the more dangerous – he’d be tricky.
I said, ‘Well, what can I do for you?’
‘We are making enquiries about the theft of a package from a postman in Leather Lane this morning,’ said Brunskill. ‘What can you tell us about it, Mr Rearden?’
‘Where’s Leather Lane?’ I asked. ‘I’m a stranger here.’
Brunskill looked at Jervis and Jervis looked at Brunskill and then they both looked at me. ‘Come, Mr Rearden,’ said Brunskill. ‘You can do better than that.’
‘You’ve got a record,’ said Jervis suddenly.
This was the shot across the bows. I said bitterly, ‘And you johns will never let me forget it. Yes, I’ve got a record; I did eighteen months in Pretoria Central – eighteen months of stone cold jug – and that was a long time ago. I’ve been straight ever since.’
‘Until perhaps this morning,’ suggested Brunskill.
I looked him straight in the eye. ‘Don’t pull the old flannel on me. You tell me what I’m supposed to have done, and I’ll tell you if I did it – straight out.’
‘Very good of you,’ murmured Brunskill. ‘Don’t you think so, Sergeant?’
Jervis made a nasty noise at the back of his throat. Then he said, ‘Mind if we search your room, Rearden?’
‘It’s Mr Rearden to sergeants,’ I said. ‘Your boss has better manners than you. And I most certainly do object to you searching my room – unless you have a warrant.’
‘Oh, we have that,’ said Brunskill calmly. ‘Go ahead, Sergeant.’ He took a document from his pocket and slapped it into my hand. ‘I think you’ll find that in order, Mr Rearden.’
I didn’t even bother to look at it, but just tossed it on to the dressing-table and watched Jervis do an efficient overhaul of the room. He found nothing – there wasn’t anything for him to find. As last he gave up, looked at Brunskill and shook his head.
Brunskill turned to me. ‘I must ask you to come to the police station with me.’
I was silent and let the pause lengthen for a long time before I said, ‘Well, go ahead and ask.’
‘We’ve got ourselves a joker here, sir,’ said Jervis. He looked at me with dislike.
‘If you do ask I won’t come,’ I said. ‘You’ll have to arrest me to get me anywhere near the nick.’
Brunskill sighed. ‘Very well, Mr Rearden; I arrest you on suspicion of being involved in an assault on a postman on premises in Leather Lane at about nine-thirty this morning. Does that satisfy you?’
‘It’ll do to be going on with,’ I said. ‘Let’s go.’
‘Oh, I almost forgot,’ he said. ‘Anything you say will be noted and may be used in evidence.’
‘I know the form,’ I said. ‘I know it only too well.’
‘I’m sure you do,’ he said softly.
I expected them to take me to Scotland Yard but I found myself in quite a small police station. Where it was I don’t know – I don’t know London at all well. They put me into a small room unfurnished except for a deal table and two bentwood chairs. It had the same institutional smell of all police stations anywhere in the world. I sat in a chair and smoked one cigarette after another, watched by a uniformed copper who stood with his back to the door, looking undressed without his helmet.
It was nearly an hour and a half before they got around to doing anything and it was tough boy Jervis who started the attack. He came into the room and waved abruptly at the uniformed john who did a disappearing act, then he sat down at the other side of the table and looked at me for a long time without speaking. I ignored him – I didn’t even look at him and it was he who broke first. ‘You’ve been here before, haven’t you, Rearden?’
‘I’ve never been here before in my life.’
‘You know what I mean. You’ve sat on hard wooden chairs with a policeman the other side of the table many, many times. You know the drill too well – you’re a professional. With another man I might pussyfoot around – use a bit of psychology, maybe – but that wouldn’t work with you, would it? So I’m not going to do it. There’ll be no tact, no psychology with you. I’m going to crack you like a nut, Rearden.’
‘You’d better remember Judges’ Rules.’
He gave a sharp bark of laughter. ‘See what I mean? An honest man wouldn’t know Judges’ Rules from Parkinson’s Law. But you know, don’t you? You’re a wrong ‘un; you’re bent.’
‘When you’re finished with the insults I’ll go,’ I said.
‘You’ll go when I say you can,’ he said sharply.
I grinned at him. ‘You’d better check with Brunskill first, sonny.’
‘Where are the diamonds?’
‘What diamonds?’
‘That postman is in a bad way. You hit him a bit too hard, Rearden. The chances are he’ll cash in his chips – and where will that put you?’ He leaned forward. ‘You’ll be inside for so long that you’ll trip over your beard.’
I must say he was trying hard but he was a bad liar. No dying postman could have busted that window in the Kiddykar office. I just looked him in the eye and kept my mouth shut.
‘If those diamonds aren’t found it’ll go hard for you,’ said Jervis. ‘Maybe if the diamonds turn up the judge will be a bit easier on you.’
‘What diamonds?’ I asked.
And so it went on for a good half-hour until he got tired and went away and the uniformed man came back and took up his old stance in front of the door. I turned and looked at him. ‘Don’t you get corns? Isn’t this job bad for your feet?’ He looked at me with a bland face and expressionless eyes and said exactly nothing.
Presently a bigger gun was brought to bear. Brunskill came in carrying a thick folder bulging with papers which he put on the table. ‘I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, Mr Rearden,’ he said.
‘I wouldn’t like to bet on it,’ I said.
He gave me a pitying, though understanding, smile. ‘We all have our jobs to do, and some are nastier than others. You mustn’t blame me for doing mine.’ He opened the folder. ‘You have quite a record, Mr Rearden. Interpol have a fat dossier on you.’
‘I’ve been convicted once,’ I said. ‘Anything else is not official and you can’t use it. What anyone might have to say about me isn’t proof
