the way upstairs. ‘I do wish this hadn’t happened in my club. I don’t know what you’ll think. But the boys didn’t mean any harm. Only you know how it is. They don’t like to leave their sisters alone.’
‘What’s that?’ Saunders said at the top of the stairs.
‘So I said they could bring their sisters and the dear girls sit around …’
‘What’s that?’ Saunders said. ‘G-g-g-girls?’
‘Don’t forget, Charlie,’ Mather said. ‘Fellow with a hare-lip. You’d better let me know if he turns up here. You don’t want your club closed.’
‘Is there a reward?’
‘There’d be a reward for you all right.’
They got back into the car. ‘Pick up Frost,’ Mather said. ‘Then Joe’s.’ He took his notebook out and crossed off another name. ‘And after Joe’s six more –’
‘We shan’t be f-f-finished till three,’ Saunders said.
‘Routine. He’s out of town by now. But sooner or later he’ll cash another note.’
‘Finger-prints?’
‘Plenty. There was enough on his soap-dish to stock an album. Must be a clean sort of fellow. Oh, he doesn’t stand a chance. It’s just a question of time.’
The lights of Tottenham Court Road flashed across their faces. The windows of the big shops were still lit up. ‘That’s a nice bedroom suite,’ Mather said.
‘It’s a lot of f-fuss, isn’t it,’ Saunders said. ‘About a few notes, I mean. When there may be a w-w-w-w …’
Mather said, ‘If those fellows over there had our efficiency there mightn’t be a war. We’d have caught the murderer by now. Then all the world could see whether the Serbs … Oh,’ he said softly, as Heal’s went by, a glow of soft colour, a gleam of steel, allowing himself about the furthest limits of his fancy, ‘I’d like to be tackling a job like that. A murderer with all the world watching.’
‘Just a few n-notes,’ Saunders complained.
‘No, you are wrong,’ Mather said, ‘it’s the routine which counts. Five-pound notes today. It may be something better next time. But it’s the routine which matters. That’s how I see it,’ he said, letting his anchored mind stretch the cable as far as it could go as they drove round St Giles’s Circus and on towards Seven Dials, stopping every hole the thief might take one by one. ‘It doesn’t matter to me if there is a war. When it’s over I’ll still want to be going on with this job. It’s the organization I like. I always want to be on the side that organizes. On the other you get your geniuses, of course, but you get all your shabby tricksters, you get all the cruelty and the selfishness and the pride.’
You got it all, except the pride, in Joe’s where they looked up from their bare tables and let him run the place through, the extra aces back in the sleeve, the watered spirit out of sight, facing him each with his individual mark of cruelty and egotism . Even pride was perhaps there in a corner, bent over a sheet of paper, playing an endless game of double noughts and crosses against himself because there was no one else in that club he deigned to play with.
Mather again crossed off a name and drove south-west towards Kennington. All over London there were other cars doing the same: he was part of an organization. He did not want to be a leader, he did not even wish to give himself up to some God-sent fanatic of a leader, he liked to feel that he was one of thousands more or less equal working for a concrete end – not equality of opportunity, not government by the people or by the richest or by the best, but simply to do away with crime which meant uncertainty. He liked to be certain, to feel that one day quite inevitably he would marry Anne Crowder.
The loudspeaker in the car said: ‘Police cars proceed back to the King’s Cross area for intensified search. Raven driven to Euston Station about seven p.m. May not have left by train.’ Mather leant across to the driver, ‘Right about and back to Euston.’ They were by
‘What’s that?’ Saunders said at the top of the stairs.
‘So I said they could bring their sisters and the dear girls sit around …’
‘What’s that?’ Saunders said. ‘G-g-g-girls?’
‘Don’t forget, Charlie,’ Mather said. ‘Fellow with a hare-lip. You’d better let me know if he turns up here. You don’t want your club closed.’
‘Is there a reward?’
‘There’d be a reward for you all right.’
They got back into the car. ‘Pick up Frost,’ Mather said. ‘Then Joe’s.’ He took his notebook out and crossed off another name. ‘And after Joe’s six more –’
‘We shan’t be f-f-finished till three,’ Saunders said.
‘Routine. He’s out of town by now. But sooner or later he’ll cash another note.’
‘Finger-prints?’
‘Plenty. There was enough on his soap-dish to stock an album. Must be a clean sort of fellow. Oh, he doesn’t stand a chance. It’s just a question of time.’
The lights of Tottenham Court Road flashed across their faces. The windows of the big shops were still lit up. ‘That’s a nice bedroom suite,’ Mather said.
‘It’s a lot of f-fuss, isn’t it,’ Saunders said. ‘About a few notes, I mean. When there may be a w-w-w-w …’
Mather said, ‘If those fellows over there had our efficiency there mightn’t be a war. We’d have caught the murderer by now. Then all the world could see whether the Serbs … Oh,’ he said softly, as Heal’s went by, a glow of soft colour, a gleam of steel, allowing himself about the furthest limits of his fancy, ‘I’d like to be tackling a job like that. A murderer with all the world watching.’
‘Just a few n-notes,’ Saunders complained.
‘No, you are wrong,’ Mather said, ‘it’s the routine which counts. Five-pound notes today. It may be something better next time. But it’s the routine which matters. That’s how I see it,’ he said, letting his anchored mind stretch the cable as far as it could go as they drove round St Giles’s Circus and on towards Seven Dials, stopping every hole the thief might take one by one. ‘It doesn’t matter to me if there is a war. When it’s over I’ll still want to be going on with this job. It’s the organization I like. I always want to be on the side that organizes. On the other you get your geniuses, of course, but you get all your shabby tricksters, you get all the cruelty and the selfishness and the pride.’
You got it all, except the pride, in Joe’s where they looked up from their bare tables and let him run the place through, the extra aces back in the sleeve, the watered spirit out of sight, facing him each with his individual mark of cruelty and egotism . Even pride was perhaps there in a corner, bent over a sheet of paper, playing an endless game of double noughts and crosses against himself because there was no one else in that club he deigned to play with.
Mather again crossed off a name and drove south-west towards Kennington. All over London there were other cars doing the same: he was part of an organization. He did not want to be a leader, he did not even wish to give himself up to some God-sent fanatic of a leader, he liked to feel that he was one of thousands more or less equal working for a concrete end – not equality of opportunity, not government by the people or by the richest or by the best, but simply to do away with crime which meant uncertainty. He liked to be certain, to feel that one day quite inevitably he would marry Anne Crowder.
The loudspeaker in the car said: ‘Police cars proceed back to the King’s Cross area for intensified search. Raven driven to Euston Station about seven p.m. May not have left by train.’ Mather leant across to the driver, ‘Right about and back to Euston.’ They were by
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