her fall.â Hamm arched an eyebrow at this phrasing. âCould we meet here again tomorrow afterwards?â
âMaris wants me to go to Heffingdon in the morning. Another town official to brief. But Iâll call you once Iâm through. Letâs try for the same time. Hereâs my mobile.â
They exchanged business cards. Hamm looked ready to have Peterâs card, embossed with the Yardâs crest, framed immediately. He smiled broadly.
They stopped outside the bar. Peter was about to step into the sharp wind when Hamm called to him. âThe cleaver?â
âYes?â
âIf you were wondering, I was the one who put it back in the kitchen. Couldnât stand the sight of it buried in the sideboard. Just thought Iâd clear that up.â
Peter, exhausted, retreated to his hotel room, placed the
Please Do Not Disturb
sign on the outer knob, and locked the door. He hung up his suit and lay down on the bed in his underwear. He no longer had any wish to interact with Bartleben; he only wanted to sleep.
Bartleben answered on the first ring. He seemed to have retained his jolly mood.
âPeter! Yes, Iâm still at the office.â
Peter massaged his stiff neck. âThought Iâd give you a progress report.â
âBefore we get to the Lasker business,â Sir Stephen said, âwhat about the attacks in Devon?â
âI understood we were to dodge that whole mess,â Peter rejoined.
âWell, it got play in the tabloids this morning. Communications has fielded eight calls, not counting those from little old ladies, who always seem to find
my
number. Just thought Iâd check, Peter.â
âWeâve nothing to tell them. Whoâs the Comm person on this? Markman?â
âYeah.â
âTell her to tell everyone weâre staying out of it. Avoid calling him âthe Rover.â So far, it remains a local matter. Thatâs the line Iâd choose.â
âPeter, I can figure that much out. The question is, whereâs it heading? What options should the Yard be keeping open?â
The call had been a bad idea, Peter saw. They both had reason to be embarrassed. Peter had already indulged himself, snooping into the Task Force dossier, and evidently Bartleben wouldnât be able to stay out of it either. All he meant to suggest was that the Yard continue to play reluctant bridegroom with the Task Force for now, knowing that McElroy would eventually be calling for help. Bartleben should let it go for tonight. The Comm people would fudge everything anyway, keeping all options open. And it would be nice if Bartleben acknowledged his primary â
and only
â assignment in Whittlesun.
âI donât know where itâs headed,â Peter finally said, âbut McElroy doesnât want our help, so letâs wait.â
Sir Stephen was determined to stretch this out. âIâm a bit surprised at that. Three victims. The pressure must be building. Why do you think that is? Regional defensiveness?â
Peter wouldnât engage further, other than to snipe: âBy the way, there are
four
girls.â
âIs there a threshold for declaring someone a serial killer?â
âIf there is,â Peter said dismissively, âthe press sets it.â
âOkay,â Bartleben said, ânow what about Mrs. Lasker? Was she killed in the house or pushed from the cliff?â
âIâm leaning towards his knocking her unconscious and dumping her off the cliff, gruesome as that sounds. Thereâs a lot of blood but no sign of a major arterial spill. I donât think she died in the house. Iâve got a few more days.â
âKeep on with it, then.â This bland vote of confidence was code; it meant that Sir Stephen was unable to judge the degree of progress Peter was or was not making, but he wasnât yet concerned.
âRegarding the house, Iâd like Stan Bracher to take a
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