“I intended to give him a cup of tea, but as he wasn’t
about I gave up the idea.”
Rawson gently tapped on the edge of his desk.
“What happened exactly, Mr. Collins?”
“Exactly? I don’t understand. Is it important?”
He smiled and his blue eyes crinkled up, giving him a
boyish expression that somehow reassured me.
“The smallest trifle is important in dealing with a murder case, Mr. Collins. Please tell me exactly what happened.”
“I was working late . . .”
“How late?”
“It was after midnight.”
“Do you usually work so late?”
“No, but I had a job I wanted to finish.”
“What sort of a job, Mr. Collins?”
I looked at him. The friendly smile was still there; the
blue eyes showed benign interest.
“A chap left his car to be checked. I found he had a
blocked carburettor. He wanted the car next morning as he
was going on holiday so I worked late on it.”
“Who was the chap?”
The question took me by surprise. I had told Ann this glib lie knowing she couldn’t check it; now, like a fool, I had repeated the lie to Rawson who could check it.
For a moment my brain refused to function and I stared
stupidly at Rawson until he repeated the question.
“I was trying to remember. I think his name was
Manning. He came out of the blue.”
Rawson nodded.
“I see, and what was the make of the car?”
“A Vanguard.”
“And what was the registration number?”
“I haven’t the vaguest idea,” I said sharply, getting a grip
on myself. “You’ll excuse me, Superintendent but what has
this to do with the robbery? Aren’t we wasting time?”
He laughed and rubbed his hands together as if what I
had just said was one of the best jokes he had heard.
“I’ll be frank with you, Mr. Collins. Someone put the
alarm bell on the van out of action.
This must have been done
before this morning. The bell was tested on Thursday
afternoon, so between Thursday night and Saturday night
someone got at the bell. I am trying to find out who did it.
Very few strangers are allowed in the sorting-office. I have a list of those who did go there during the past few days and I’m checking them.
One of these strangers put the bell out of action and I hope to catch him, and when I do I shall have cracked this case.”
I felt myself change colour.
“You don’t think I put the bell out of action, do you?”
“Five unauthorized people entered the sorting-office
between Thursday night and Saturday night, Mr. Collins. You were one of them. One of the five put the bell out of action; each one of them is a suspect until he proves he didn’t do it.
Can you prove you didn’t do it?”
I sat motionless, staring at him.
“I don’t think I can,” I heard myself say. “But of course I
didn’t do it.” Rawson smiled.
“I would be very surprised if you said you had. Now, let’s
get back to the Vanguard. What colour was it, Mr. Collins?”
“It was grey.”
“Was this Mr. Manning a local chap, would you know?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never seen him before.”
“It would help you as well as me, Mr. Collins, if we could
trace him and get him to support your statement.”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to take my word for it.”
He gave me a quizzical look before scribbling something
on a pad.
“The police don’t take people’s words for anything, Mr.
Collins. We’re a suspicious lot. However, it shouldn’t be
difficult to trace Mr. Manning. We must see what we can do
about it Now, Mr. Collins, tell me some more. You were
working late on this Vanguard: what happened then?”
My mouth turned dry and I would have given anything for
a drink of water. I had finished the tea, but I knew I didn’t dare ask for water: it would have been a complete give away.
“I made myself some tea just after midnight. I thought
Harris might like a cup so I took him one over.”
“You took him a cup of tea?” Rawson asked, making
patterns with his pencil on the blotter that lay before him.
“That’s right. I crossed the road and looked into the
sorting-office, but I couldn’t see him. I called, but he didn’t answer. I decided, to let it slide and went back to the garage.”
“You didn’t go into the sorting-office?”
“I went in about two or three yards, no farther.”
Rawson nodded to himself, drew another complicated
pattern on his blotter before saying, “Then what did you do?”
“I went to bed.”
I looked up and his piercing blue eyes seemed to be
boring right through me.
“Well, that’s all right, Mr. Collins. That’s a satisfactory
explanation. Harris has admitted he very often dozes during the night. He must have been asleep when you looked in.
I drew in a long breath. Rawson was smiling again, and
his eyes were friendly once more.
I looked at my watch.
“Well, if that’s all, Superintendent, I’d be glad to get back to the garage. My wife . . .”
“I won’t keep you longer than necessary,” he said. “There
are just one or two other questions I’d like to ask you. Was it the only time you visited the sorting-office, Mr. Collins?”
I felt a trickle of sweat run down the back of my neck.
“I—I think so. Maybe I’ve been there with Bill. I don’t
really remember.”
“Didn’t you go over there on Thursday morning, Mr.
Collins? I believe yon wanted a word with Mr. Yates, and you
were told he wasn’t there. Isn’t that right?”
I touched my dry lips with my tongue.
“Yes, come to think of it, I did go over there.”
“Didn’t you ask Harris where Mr. Yates’s van was, and
didn’t Harris point it out to you?”
I felt the jaws of the trap were closing. I got hold of
myself with an effort.
“I think something was said about the van.”
Rawson nodded, then seemed to lose interest in the
subject.
“Would you say your business is a profitable one, Mr.
Collins?”
The sudden switch startled me.
“Things are a bit duffy at the moment, but they’ll pick up.”
He nodded again.
“Right, now let’s get back to last night again. You are
quite sure, Mr. Collins, it was a cup of tea you took across to
Harris?”
I felt there was a catch in this question, but as I had
already answered it I had to repeat the answer.
“That’s right.”
He bent down to pick up something that was hidden from
me by the desk.
“It wasn’t this flask you took over by any chance, was it?”
And he put on the desk the blue and white vacuum flask
I had left in the van.
****************
TO BE CONTINUED
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