And Thereby Hangs a Tale

“Which floor are you on, Mr. Pennyworthy?”

“The fourth.”

“Thank you. That will be more than enough to be going on with,” said the sergeant, closing his notebook.

“So what happens next?” asked Arnold.

“We’ll put a surveillance team on the building immediately, keep an eye on the suspect for a few days and try to find out what he’s up to. It could all be completely innocent, of course, but should we come up with anything, Mr. Pennyworthy, be assured we’ll keep you informed.”

“I hope it won’t turn out to be a waste of your time,” said Arnold, suddenly feeling a little foolish.

“We’ll find out soon enough,” said the young detective with a smile. “Let me assure you, Mr. Pennyworthy, I only wish there were more members of the public who were as vigilant. It would make my job much easier. Good luck with your new job,” he added as he stood to leave.

As soon as the policeman had left, Arnold picked up the phone on his desk and called his mother. “Can I come and stay with you for a few days, Mother, before I move to Bury St. Edmunds?”

“Yes, of course, dear,” she replied. “Nothing wrong, I hope?”

“Nothing for you to worry about, Mother.”

Once Arnold had moved to Bury St. Edmunds, running the branch took up most of his time, and as the weeks passed and he heard nothing from Sergeant Roberts, the incident at Arcadia Mansions began to fade in his memory.

From time to time he read reports in the Daily Telegraph about police raids on terrorist cells in Leeds, Birmingham, and Bradford. He always studied the photos of the suspects being led away by the police, and on one occasion he could have sworn that . . .

Arnold had just finished interviewing a customer about a mortgage application when the phone on his desk rang.

“There’s a Sergeant Roberts on the line,” said his secretary.

“Just give me a moment,” said Arnold. He could feel his heart racing as he bustled the customer out of his office and closed the door behind him.

“Good morning, Sergeant.”

“Good morning, sir,” came back a voice he recognized. “I was wondering if you were planning to be in London during the next few days. It’s just that I’d like to bring you up to date on what our surveillance team has come up with.” Arnold began to thumb through his diary. “If that’s not convenient,” the sergeant continued, “I’d be happy to visit you in Bury St. Edmunds.”

“No, no,” said Arnold, “I’ll be coming up to London on Friday evening. It’s my sister’s birthday, and I’m taking her to see The Sound of Music at the London Palladium.”

“Good, then I wonder if you could spare the time to pop in to Scotland Yard, say round five o’clock, because I know that Commander Harrison is very keen to have a word with you.”

“That will be fine,” said Arnold, looking down at the blank page. He made a note in his diary, not that he was likely to forget.

“Good,” said the sergeant. “I’ll meet you in reception at five o’clock on Friday.”

As the week went by, Arnold couldn’t help thinking that he was looking forward to meeting Commander Harrison more than he was to seeing The Sound of Music.

Arnold left the office just after lunch on Friday, explaining to his secretary that he had an important appointment in London. When he arrived at Liverpool Street station he went straight to the taxi rank, as he didn’t want to be late for the meeting.

The taxi swung into the forecourt of Scotland Yard a few minutes before five, and Arnold was pleased to see Sergeant Roberts standing by the reception desk waiting for him.

“Good to see you again, Mr. Pennyworthy,” said Roberts. They shook hands, and the sergeant guided Arnold toward a bank of lifts. He chatted about The Sound of Music, which he’d taken his wife to see at Christmas, while they waited for the lift, and about the parlous state of English rugby while they were in the lift. He hadn’t even hinted why Commander Harrison wanted to see Arnold by the time the lift doors opened on the sixth floor.

Roberts led Arnold to a door at the far end of the corridor, which displayed the name Commander Mark Harrison OBE. He gave a gentle tap, waited for a moment, then opened the door and walked in.

The commander immediately rose from behind his desk and gave Arnold a warm smile before shaking hands with him. “Good to meet you at last,” he said. “Can I offer you a drink?”

“No, thank you,” said Arnold, now even more desperate to discover why such a senior officer wanted to see him.

“I know you’re going to the theater this evening, Mr. Penny-worthy, so I’ll get straight to the point,” said the commander, waving Arnold to a seat. “I must explain from the outset,” he continued, “that the case I’m going to discuss with you is due to begin at the Old Bailey next week, so there will be some details I’m not at liberty to disclose, although I feel sure I can rely on your complete discretion, Mr. Pennyworthy.”

“I fully understand,” said Arnold.