‘This is how the delivery system works:
During the day the esplanade gets crowded, and anyway, Edinburgh’s streets are no place for big articulated trucks during daylight hours. So Frigis Express delivers at night. Of course, big vehicles can’t make it under the arch of the guardroom and up the narrow gantlet, so they park down on the esplanade and the cookhouse sends down a driver in a military Landrover to collect the carcasses. The Frigis driver passes the meat straight out from the back of his truck into the back of the Landrover, which then conveys it up to the main cookhouse. And the Frigis driver goes up as a passenger in the Landrover to get his docket signed. And sometimes he’ll have a beer with the Cook Sergeant in his little office, before walking back down to his truck on the dark esplanade. By night, of course, the esplanade is empty and he has plenty of room to turn the big vehicle round and get out of there.
‘So . . . the plain-clothes officers wanted to know if this had been the routine on the night of the murder, and it had. In fact the Cook Sergeant knew this delivery man quite well; he worked for Frigis out of Darlington (yes, Darlington, Harry) and made deliveries to the Castle every three or four weeks. And when the sergeant was around they’d usually have a pint together in his office.
‘As for his name: well, his signature was a scrawl, quite unreadable, possibly even disguised … all except for the “F” which started his surname. But the fat sergeant was willing to swear that he referred to himself as – that’s right -“Johnny”!
‘Well, that was about it. When the officers were satisfied with what they’d got I came out with them. Along the way I made mention of how they seemed to be doing OK without E-Branch on this one. It was pretty obvious they weren’t exactly sure what the Branch is all about – hell, who is, except Branch members? – but that they guessed we were some sort of higher echelon intelligence organization which “fools about”, however successfully, with psychic stuff: table-rapping and divining and such. And I suppose in a way they were right at that.
Then we spent a little time looking over the wall in various places and down on the gardens towards Princes Street, and sure enough there are places you could dump a body without breaking its bones. The Jocks seemed especially interested in looking down on one spot, and I guessed that’s where Penny had been found. A peep inside their minds told me I was right.
‘Finally, as I parted company with them on the esplanade, I said, “We’ll be in touch, and if this Johnny bloke doesn’t work out the way you – ”
‘But one of them broke in on me: “Oh, we’re pretty sure he’s the one. And we can wait a few days longer. Actually, we’d like to catch this bastard in the act of picking up some girl before we move on him. He’s been doing these jobs of his thick and fast, so we think he’ll maybe try it on again the next time out. Another day or two at most. And you’d better believe we’ll be right behind him . . .” Then he shrugged and let it go at that.
‘So I told them good luck, and that was it. I felt great -great to be alive, and even better that I’d made a dent in the case – and so had a beer on the Royal Mile. Following which I just waited around for you to contact me. End of story . . .’
The Necroscope seemed a little disappointed. ‘You didn’t get a general description of this man, or discover when he’s driving for Frigis again?’
These things weren’t in their thoughts,’ Jordan answered, shaking his head. ‘And anyway, if I’d had to concentrate on scanning their minds I might have slipped up, done something stupid, given myself away. Remember, you and I are both telepaths. When we read each other and it comes over strong and true, that’s because we’re doing it deliberately. But reading the mind of an ordinary person is different. They’re cluttered things, minds, and rarely concentrate on anything for more than a moment or two.’