Imperfection (DI Gardener 2)

“Are you not? So, you haven’t placed it there as a protection against lightning?”

“I can’t have done, can I? Which begs the question, which one of us is really superstitious?”

Reilly made no reply.

“Tell me, Mr Reilly, where did you learn about myths and superstitions?”

“I’m Irish, Mr Corndell. We invented most of them.”

“Oh, does that mean they’re not true, then?”

“You tell me,” retorted Reilly. “You’re the superstitious one. There’s no shortage of the colour red around here. Your hall has a tiled floor which contains red, and then there are red velvet drapes leading into each of the rooms, and they all seem to have something red in them.”

“Red is my favourite colour, Mr Reilly, mostly because it’s the colour of Aries, but also because it’s associated with good luck, health, and joy, and hence the living body as opposed to the corpse.”

“And you’re not superstitious? I’ll bet you know as well as I do about the references in folklore to the use of threads, ribbons, wool, or pieces of flannel which prevent a variety of ailments,” continued Reilly. “And isn’t red thread used as a protection against witchcraft?”

“Is there anything else I can help you gentlemen with?”

“And it has nothing to do with it being the colour of blood?” asked Reilly.

“Why would it?” replied Corndell.

“Just curious, Mr Corndell. It was you who made the comment about the living body and not the corpse, was it not? I thought maybe you had a kind of superstition about blood being pure and all that.”

“I really haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about.”

At that precise moment, Gardener’s mobile chimed. He reached into his jacket pocket and then excused himself into the kitchen, where he took the call.

Reilly asked Corndell if he could use the bathroom.

After the phone call and the toilet break, the two detectives returned to the conservatory.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to leave you, Mr Corndell.” Gardener turned to Reilly. “That was the station. Apparently, Albert Fettle wants to see us, urgently.”

“It’s no problem, Mr Gardener, I’ll show you both out.”

As Gardener reached the door, he turned to face Corndell. “Just one more question.”

“Which is?” asked Corndell.

“What’s your favourite film?”

“Excuse me?”

“Your favourite film. You must have one, a film buff of your calibre.”

“I certainly do. A Blind Bargain,” replied Corndell, still wondering why the question had been asked in the first place.

“Can’t say as I know that one,” replied the detective.

“You won’t, Mr Gardener. Before your time.”

“I’ll have to look out for it. What about The Scarlet Car?”

“I’m afraid you have me there, Mr Gardener. But if you have the time, I’d be more than happy to look it up for you,” replied Corndell.

“Another time, maybe. Anyway, thank you, you’ve been most helpful. I’ll leave you a card, and perhaps we could call back if we need you again.” Gardener tipped his hat.