"The equivoque principle" - читать интересную книгу автора (Craske Darren)

CHAPTER XI
The Day After the Night Before

SERGEANT HORACE BERRY was seated at his desk in Crawditch police station, idly tapping his knuckles with a pencil. He looked over at the clock on the wall and rolled his eyes in horror. Hearing the station's main doors burst open; Berry was about to stand and get a better look at who had entered, when a bellowing Scottish voice drifted over the tops of the desk partitions. Berry knew instantly that Commissioner Dray had arrived. Considering that it was gone midnight, and now encroaching the early hours of the morning, he would surely be in a ridiculously foul mood-not that the time of day seemed to have any impact on Dray's demeanour. He was just as reliably grouchy in the morning as he was at midday or during nightfall. It was a permanent state for the man.

'Over here, Commissioner,' Berry called, raising his hand in the air.

'I got your summons, Horace, and here I am. It's far too early in the day for all this nonsense, man. Mrs Dray was fast asleep-and you know how much I cherish the moments when that woman keeps her mouth shut! Night-time is the only respite I get from her incessant whining,' Commissioner Dray barked, as he stormed through the empty station office towards a large oak door. 'My office, Horace, and be quick about it, will you?'

Commissioner Dray was soon seated in his high-backed chair in his office. His desk was neat and tidy, with towers of paperwork placed into piles in order of importance. A misty sepia-toned photograph of his wife was placed next to an ornate glass statue of a prancing stag. It wasn't clear which was a symbol of a memorable hunt, and which was just a trophy to be proud of-but Sergeant Berry guessed Mrs Dray didn't fall into either category. The Commissioner was a heavy-set man with large, wide shoulders, a broad neck and podgy, chilblained cheeks. His grey-white hair was rapidly dissipating; a fact that he seemed entirely conscious of, as thin spidery strands were swept across his forehead in a vain attempt to disguise its thinning. Dray chewed at the inside of his cheek distractedly, as he rubbed his hands up and down his arms.

'Christ, it's cold tonight. Freeze the balls off a brass monkey out there, man!' The Commissioner opened his drawer and pulled out a bottle of whisky and two glasses. He placed one next to him and the other on the far side of the desk. 'You want a wee dram, Horace? It'll get the blood flowing, so it will.'

Berry shook his head. 'Not whilst I'm on duty, sir.'

Dray laughed. 'Forget about that, Berry-especially whilst you're on bloody duty!' Dray poured two fingers of whisky into both glasses anyway, despite Berry's protestations. 'Now, what the devil is so important that you send Constable Marsh round to knock me up at one in the morning, eh?' he said with his usual blistering tones.

Berry had known Dray for many years, but still, the man's bombast made his heart miss a beat. 'Commissioner, if I had any choice, I wouldn't have bothered you.'

'Well, I'm here now, Horace, so you may as well spit it out, eh?' Dray said, relaxing his grim face a little, and leaning back in his chair.

'As you might have guessed, sir-it's bad news,' Berry said, removing a piece of paper from his uniform's breast pocket. It was the same crumpled note that he had found near Twinkle's body. 'There was another murder last night. Jennings and myself were called to the outskirts of Crawditch at first light this morning. The victim looked as if she'd fallen foul of the same bloke responsible for the previous two murders in town. At first…' Berry paused to gain Dray's full attention, 'The thing is, Commissioner…we found a man unconscious next to the latest girl at the scene, seemingly worse the wear for drink. You would naturally assume that all the evidence points to him being the perpetrator of not just that young lady's murder, but the other two, as well, wouldn't you? '

'I would hope so.' Dray slurped his whisky noisily. 'Horace, please don't tell me you dragged me out of bed for this. If you've caught the bloke responsible, well done! Slap the irons on him, and we'll measure his neck for the gallows. Can I not just read your report once it's filed?'

'Well, sir, there are a few…variables we should consider.'

Dray squinted. 'Variables? What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?'

'This latest victim was a dwarf, sir…and the man in custody is a hell of a size, and both are apparently part of a circus crew that's settled over in Hyde Park. Constable Marsh tells me the owner of the circus has already been here early this morning, trying to see his friend, convinced that he was innocent.'

'Aye, and how many times have we heard that, eh?' Dray said.

'Indeed. The suspect is still down in the cells at the moment. I know you weren't due in until later…but I don't think we can afford to sit on this for long.'

'Oh, and why's that?' asked Dray. 'Don't mince your words, Horace; I've known you too long. If you're onto something, then let me in on it! What the hell's got you so bothered?'

Berry rubbed a hand over his forehead, and slid it over his hair. 'These murders have been like a bolt from the blue to the folks round here, Commissioner, and if this gets out, God knows what could happen.'

'Berry, calm down. What are you on about? If what gets out?'

Sergeant Berry toyed anxiously with his earlobe. 'That's the reason why I called you in, sir. Just like the others, this poor girl wasn't just killed; she was mutilated horrifically in a most ungodly manner. Once you see the state of her…you'll understand what's got me bothered.'

'We've both seen murder before, Berry; nothing shocks me about that any more.'

'You might change your mind once you've seen her, sir. I think we've got a real mess on our hands here, and I don't have the slightest clue how we're going to deal with it.' Berry leaned forwards, pressing his hands flat onto Dray's desk. 'Something tells me we're going to see a hell of a lot more bodies turning up.'