THE THINGS MEN DO: Chapter 11-14

“His mother’s not ill then?”
“No. I told him that lie to get him out of London. I still
can’t think how he could have got back. I saw him on the
train.” ‘

“He did get back, Harry.”
“Ann, I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I want you to
know I’m sorry. She didn’t mean anything to me: it was a
physical something I hadn’t the guts to control.”
She got up then and moved over to the window and
rested her forehead on the window pane.

“What are you going to do, Harry?”
“I’m going to find Dix. You’d better go to your mother,
Ann.”
She turned quickly and stared at me.

“Why do you want to find Dix? Let the police find him!
You’ve got to think of yourself now, Harry. Don’t you
understand, you might get into serious trouble?”

“You mean I could go to prison? All right, then I’ll go to
prison, but I’m finding Dix first.”
Something attracted her attention in the street and she
turned quickly to look out of the window.

“They’re coming now, Harry.”
I joined her at the window with two quick strides. I was in
time to see two plain clothes officers enter the garage.
“It’s all right, Ann,” I said, wanting to put my arm round
her, but not doing so. “Don’t be frightened. I’ll go down and talk to them.”
I went across the room, opened the door and without
looking back, went down the stairs.

The two detectives were sanding just outside my office
as I pushed open the door at the foot of the stairs.
“Mr. Collins?”
“That’s right.”

“I’m Detective Sergeant Hollis, and this is Detective
Constable Davies. I am making inquiries concerning a mail
van robbery, and believe you may be able to help us. I
understand you are a friend of William Yates, the postal guard
who was murdered in the early hours of this morning.”

I looked at the two men: both dark, both massive, both
wearing nondescript dark suits. The Detective Sergeant was
the younger of the two. His square-shaped face was
expressionless, his eyes alert but impersonal.
“That’s right.”

“Mr. Collins, I would be glad if you would come to the
station with me. The Chief Superintendent is anxious talk to you.”

I felt a sudden sinking feeling inside me.
“I can’t very well leave my business. Couldn’t he come
here?”
“Haven’t you anyone to look after your business for an
hour or so?”

I hesitated. I didn’t want to go with them, but I knew they
could force me if they wanted to, and there was no point in
getting on the wrong side of them.

“I suppose my wife could manage.”
“I have a car outside. I’ll see you are driven back. We
won’t keep you long.”
“Well, all right. I’ll just tell my wife.” I looked at them. “Do you want to come up with me?”
The Detective Sergeant allowed himself an impersonal
smile.
“That won’t be necessary, Mr. Collins.”

I went up the stairs, a little shaky at the knees. At least
they weren’t arresting me. They wouldn’t have let me out of
their sight if they suspected I had something to do with the
robbery.

Ann was waiting on the landing.
“They want me to go to the station,” I said, pitched my
voice so the two detectives could hear what I saying. “I won’t be more than an hour.”

She looked at me, and I was shocked to see the terror in
her eyes. I shook my head at her, and managed to force a
smile.
“They’re going to drive me back.”

She took hold of my hand and pulled me into the dining-
room and shut the door.
“Do they suspect anything?” she whispered.

“I don’t think so. They would have come up if they did.
Don’t worry, Ann, I’ll be back soon.”
“Harry, we must stay together. I’m not going to leave
you. Nothing matters now, darling, except what lies ahead.
Nothing matters. I mean that.”
I looked at her, not sure if I had heard aright.

“I’ve done you a great wrong, Ann.”
“Don’t talk about it. I’m frightened, Harry. Be careful what you say. I’ll pray for you.”
I pulled her to me and kssed her. Her l!ps felt as cold as
ice.

“It’ll be all right. There’s no one in the world but you, Ann.
I love you and will always love you.”
She clung to me.
“It’ll be all right.” I said, kssed her again, then pushed
her gently away. “I’ll be back.”
I went quickly downstairs.
“All ready, sergeant.”

We climbed into the police car parked outside the
garage. It took us only a few minutes to reach the police
station.

“This way, Mr. Collins,” Hollis said, getting out of the car.
He hurried me into the big grey stone building, up a flight of
stone stairs, along a passage to a door on which was printed a notice which read: Chief Superintendent J. V. Rawson. He
rapped on the door and pushed it open.
“Mr. Collins, sir.”

I walked into a small office. Facing me was a big desk,
covered with files and papers. A Windsor chair stood by the
side of the desk. Another chair stood by the window. One side
of the room was taken up by filing cabinets.

Behind the desk sat a broad-shouldered man, going
bald, who might have been any age between fifty and sixty. He
had the most piercing blue eyes I had ever seen.

He stood up, leaned across the desk and offered his
hand, and his grey complexioned face lit up with a friendly
smile.

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