“She’s doing exceptionally well, sir. A very bright girl. Willing to learn and very quick on the uptake. She is proving a valuable addition to the team.”
A.C. Gatehouse’s thin lips stretched to their maximum extent as he beamed at Merlin’s summary. Then his features stiffened and darkened. “Constable Cole. I understand that she may, mmm, be spooning with him?”
Merlin struggled to keep a straight face. “Spooning, sir?”
“You know what I mean, Frank. And you can wipe that silly smirk off your face, if you please.”
Merlin attempted to compose his unreliable facial muscles. “I understand they are good friends, sir. As you know, I am rather too busy to have time to register much about the private lives of my officers.”
The A.C. harrumphed. “Yes, well. I have never condoned the development of relationships among my officers, Chief Inspector – and apart from that he’s entirely unsuitable, of course.”
“Seems a very nice lad to me.”
“Why hasn’t he been called up?”
“As you well know, sir, short-staffed as we are, the services have been told to keep off our people.”
“Why hasn’t he made a noise about it, eh? You made a noise about wanting to join up again. So did Bridges, despite his unfortunate condition.” Sergeant Bridges had been turned down for service at the beginning of the year, to Merlin’s relief, due to the misfortune of his having six toes on one foot. “He’s not yellow, is he?”
Whatever remained of any smirk on Merlin’s face now mutated into a glower of anger. “As a matter of fact, he has been to see me about the subject. Said he was keen to do his bit and I gave him a version of the same speech you gave me. No doubt you remember it, sir. Something along the lines of the country and more specifically you, sir, needing our best officers here. How did you put it again? ‘If we didn’t keep our best officers here then chaos would ensue and chaos is worth a hundred divisions to Mr Hitler.’ I think those were the words.”
A.C. Gatehouse shifted in his chair then gave Merlin a wry smile. “Yes, well put indeed, wasn’t it? Well, I’m happy to hear that about Constable Cole. Very happy, but he’s still the wrong sort of chap for Claire. You must discourage them. I shall certainly be having a word with Claire if you don’t.”
Despite his own reservations about the relationship, Merlin was about to speak further in defence of Cole by citing his volunteering to join Johnson in the looting investigation when Johnson himself came in to the room.
“Oh, sorry, sir. Sirs. Didn’t realise you were, er…”
The A.C. jumped to his feet. “Not to worry, Inspector. We are almost finished. Getting anywhere with that Polish goose chase, Frank? As I said, I don’t want you wasting—”
“We found his body. Trying to arrange a post-mortem now.”
“Oh? Come and tell me about it later. I have to go to another one of those interminable meetings in Whitehall.”
*
They were sitting in the mess at Northolt after lunch, staring into their cups.
“Give me yours, sir. Let me have a look.”
Jan Sieczko slid his cup over to Corporal Tom Reilley, one of the squadron mechanics.
“I’m not sure I want you to do this, Corporal.”
“Just a bit of a lark, sir. My old gypsy nan taught me how to read tea leaves.”
“Go on, Jan, let him have a go. He’ll probably tell you something you don’t know such as you will be in danger and watch out for a man with an unfortunate haircut and a toothbrush moustache.” Jerzy was the third person at the table. Jan shook his head and pulled back the cup. “Oh, well, Reilley. If Jan is going to be such a faintheart, why don’t you read mine?”
“Your English is coming on very well Mr Kowalski, sir, if I may say so. ‘Faintheart’, that’s a very good word for a Polish chap to be knowing. Now, let’s have a look.”