and came across Geordie in the foyer. He was sitting on the floor
staring at his fingers in amazement – they were red with welling
blood.
“The bastard shot me!” he said incredulously.
“Where are you hit, for God’s sake?” “In the hand, I think. I don’t
feel anything anywhere else, and he only fired one shot.” I looked at
his hand. Blood was spurting from the end of his little finger. I
began to laugh, an hysterical sound not far from crying, and went on
until Geordie slapped my face with his unwounded hand.
“Pull yourself together, Mike,” he said firmly. I became aware of
doors slammin and voices upstairs but as yet nobody had ventured down
into the foyer itself, and I sobered suddenly.
“I think I killed one of them,”I said emptily.
“Don’t be daft. How could you kill a man with your fist?” “I knocked
him off the fire escape. He fell from the third floor.”
Geordie looked at me closely. “We’d better go and have a look at
that.”
“Are you all right?” We were both bleeding freely now.
He was wrapping his finger in a handkerchief which promptly turned
bright red. “I’m okay. You can’t call this a mortal wound,” he said
dryly. We went out into the street and walked quickly round to the
alley into which the fire escape led. As we turned the corner there
was a sudden glare of light and the roar of an engine, together with
the slamming of a car door.
“Look out!” yelled Geordie and flung himself sideways.
I saw the two great eyes of headlamps rushing at me from the darkness
of the alley and I frantically flattened myself against the wall. The
car roared past and I felt the wind of it brush my trousers, and then
with a squeal of hard-used tires it turned the corner and was gone.
I listened to the noise of the engine die away and eased myself from
the wall, taking a deep shaky breath. In the light of the street lamp
on the corner I saw Geordie pick himself up. “Christ!” I said.
“You don’t know what’s going to happen next.” “This lot aren’t
ordinary burglars,” said Geordie, brushing himself down. “They’re too
bloody persistent. Where’s this fire escape?” “A bit further along,”
I said.
We walked slowly up the alley and Geordie fell over the man I had
knocked over the edge. We bent down to examine him and, in the faint
light, we could see his head. It was twisted at an impossible angle
and there was a deep bloody depression in the skull .
Geordie said, “No need to look any further. He’s dead.” “And you say
they were speaking Spanish,”said the Inspector.
I nodded wearily. “As soon as we went into the flat someone shouted,
“Look out!” and then I was in the middle of a fight.
A bit later on another. man. shouted, “Get out of here; don’t shoot
use your knives.” I think it was the man I knocked off the fire
escape.” The Inspector looked at me thoughtfully. “But you say he was
going to shoot you.” “He’d lost his knife by then, and I was going for
him.” “How good is your Spanish, Mr Trevelyan?” “Pretty good,” I
said.
“I did a lot of work off south-west Europe about four years ago and I
was based in Spain. I took the trouble to learn the language I have a
flair for them.” The doctor tied a neat knot in the bandage round my
arm and said, “That’ll hold it, but try not to use the arm for a
while.”He packed his bag and went out.
I sat up and looked about the flat-it was like a field dressing station
in a blitzed area. I was stripped to the waist with a bandaged arm and
Geordie sported a natty bandage on his little finger.
He was drinking tea and he held out his finger like a charlady at a
garden party.
The flat was a wreck. What hadn’t been broken by the burglars had been
smashed during the fight. A chair with no legs lay in the corner and
broken glass from the front of my bookcase littered the carpet. A
couple of uniformed constables stood stolidly in the corners and a
plain clothes man was blowing powder about the place with an
insufflator.
The Inspector said, “Once again – how many of them were there?”
Geordie said, “I had two on my hands at one time.” “I had a go at
two,” I said.
“But I think that one of them had a bash at Geordie first.
It’s difficult to say – it happened so fast.” “This man you heard did
he say “knife” or “knives”?” I thought about that. “He said
“knives”.”
The Inspector said, “Then there were more than two of them.” Geordie
said unexpectedly, “There were four.” The Inspector looked at him with
raised eyebrows.
“I saw three men in the car that passed us. One driving and two
getting in in a hurry. With one dead in the alley – that makes
four.”
“Ah yes,”said the Inspector. “They would have one man in the car.
Tell me, how did you come to get shot?” A smile touched Geordie’s
lips.
“How does anyone get shot? With a gun.” The Inspector recognized a
touch of over-excitement and said dryly, “I mean, what were the
circumstances?” “Well” I chased the little bastard down the stairs and
damn nearly caught him in the foyer. He saw he- was going to be copped
so he turned and let me have it. I hadn’t reached him yet. I was so
surprised I sat down – then I saw all the blood.” “You say he was
little?” “That he was. A little squirt of not more than five foot
four.” “So two men went down the stairs, there was one in the car
and
one went over the fire escape,”the Inspector summarized.
MEMO&.
.
He had a blunt, square face with watchful grey eyes which he suddenly
turned on me like gimlets. “You say this man threw a suitcase into the
alley.” “That’s right.” We haven’t found it, Mr Trevelyan.” I said,
“The others must have picked it up. That’s when they nearly ran us
down.”
He said softly, “How did they know it was there?” “I don’t know. They
may have seen it coming over. I guess the car was parked in the alley
waiting for the others to come down that way.” He nodded.
“What was in the suitcase – do you know?” I glanced across at Geordie
who looked back at me expressionlessly. I said, “Some stuff belonging
to my brother.”
“What kind of – er stuff?” “Clothing, books geological samples.” The
Inspector sighed. “Anything important or valuable?” I shook my
head.
“I doubt it.” “What about the samples?” I said, “I only saw the
specimens briefly. They appeared to be manganese nodules of the type
which is often to be found on the ocean bed.
They’re very common, you know” “And valuable?” he persisted.
“I don’t think that anyone with knowledge of them would regard them as
valuable,” I said. “I suppose they might be if they were generally
accessible, but it’s too hard to get at them through two or three miles
of water.” The Inspector seemed at a loss. “How do you think your
brother will regard the loss of those specimens, and his other
things?”
“He’s dead,”I said.
The Inspector sharpened his attention. “Oh? When did he die?” “About
four months ago – in the Pacific.” He looked at me closely and I went
on,”My brother, Mark, was an oceanographer like myself. He died of
appendicitis a few months ago and I’ve just received his effects
today.
As for the specimens I would say they were souvenirs of the I.G.Y 1=
survey in which he was engaged. As a scientist he would naturally be
interested in them.” ‘llm,” said the Inspector. “Is there anything
else missing, Mr Trevelyan?” “Not that I know of.” Geordie clattered
his cup. “I think we were too quick for them,” he said.
“They thought they were on to a good thing, but we didn’t give them
enough time. So one of them grabbed the first thing he saw and tried
to make a getaway.” I carefully didn’t mention that the case had been
hidden under my bed.
The Inspector looked at Geordie with something approaching contempt.
“This isn’t an ordinary burglary,” he said. “Your explanation doesn’t
account for the fact that they went to a lot of trouble to retrieve the
suitcase, or why they used so many weapons.” He turned to me. “Have
you any enemies in Spain?” I shrugged. “I shouldn’t think so.” He
pursed his lips. “All right, Mr Trevelyan, let’s go back to the
beginning again. Let’s start when you say you first saw the light on
in your flat. . ..” It was after three a.m. before we got rid of the