'Yes. Probably on a special assignment,' said Colonel Pikeaway. He puffed out more smoke.
Tommy coughed.
'I expect you know all about him.'
'I know about him,' said Colonel Pikeaway. 'We know everything here. He's all right. He's in charge of this enquiry. Local people will perhaps be able to spot who it was who's been following you about, finding out things about you. You don't think, do you, Beresford, that it would be well if you left the place for a while and brought your wife along?'
'I don't think I could do that,' said Tommy.
'You mean she wouldn't come?' said Colonel Pikeaway.
'Again,' said Tommy, 'if I may mention it, you seem to know everything. I don't think you could draw Tuppence away. Mind you, she's not badly hurt, she's not ill and she's got a feeling now that - well, that we're on to something. We don't know what it is and we don't know what we shall find or do.'
'Nose around,' said Colonel Pikeaway, 'that's all you can do in a case of this kind.' He tapped a nail on the metal box. 'This little box is going to tell us something, though, and it's going to tell us something we've always wanted to know. Who was involved a great many years ago in selling things going and doing a lot of dirty work behind the scenes.'
'But surely -'
'I know what you're going to say. You're going to say whoever it was is now dead. That's true. But it tells us nevertheless what was going on, how it was set in motion, who helped, who inspired it and who has inherited or carried on with something of the same business ever since. People who don't seem to amount to much but possibly they amount to more than we've ever thought. And people who've been in touch with the same group, as one calls it - one calls anything a group nowadays - the same group which may have different people in it now but who have the same ideas, the same love of violence and evil and the same people to communicate with elsewhere and other groups. Some groups are all right but some groups are worse because they are groups. It's a kind of technique, you know. We've taught it to ourselves in the last, oh, say fifty to a hundred years. Taught that if people cohere together and make a tight little mob of themselves, it's amazing what they are able to accomplish and what they are able to inspire other people to accomplish for them.'
'May I ask you something?'
'Anyone can always ask,' said Colonel Pikeaway. 'We know everything here but we don't always tell, I have to warn you of that.'
'Does the name of Solomon mean anything to you?'
'Ah,' said Colonel Pikeaway. 'Mr Solomon. And where did you get that name from?'
'It was mentioned by Inspector Norris"
'I see. Well, if you're going by what Norris said, you're going right. I can tell you that. You won't see Solomon personally, I don't mind telling you. He's dead.'
'Oh,' said Tommy, 'I see.'
'At least you don't quite see,' said Colonel Pikeaway. 'We use his name sometimes. It's useful, you know, to have a name you can use. The name of a real person, a person who isn't there any longer but although dead is still highly regarded in the neighbourhood. It's sheer chance you ever came to live in The Laurels at all and we've got hopes that it may lead to a piece of luck for us. But I don't want it to be a cause of disaster to you or to your missus. Suspect everyone and everything. It's the best way.'
'I only trust two people there,' said Tommy. 'One's Albert, who's worked for us for years -'
'Yes, I remember Albert. Red-haired boy, wasn't he?'
'Not a boy any longer -'
'Who's the other one?'
'My dog Hannibal.'
'Hm. Yes - you may have something there. Who was it - Dr Watts - who wrote a hymn beginning, "Dogs delight to bark and bite, It is their nature to." - What is he, an Alsatian?'
'No, he's a Manchester Terrier.'
'Ah, an old English Black and Tan, not as big as a Dobermann pinscher but the kind of dog that knows his stuff.'
Chapter 13
VISIT FROM MISS MULLINS
Tuppence, walking along the garden path, was accosted by Albert coming down at a quick pace from the house.
'Lady waiting to see you,' he said.
'Lady? Oh, who is it?'
'Miss Mullins, she says she is. Recommended by one of the ladies in the village to call on you.'
'Oh, of course,' said Tuppence. 'About the garden, isn't it?'
'Yes, she said something about the garden.'
'I think you'd better bring her out here,' said Tuppence.
'Yes, madam,' said Albert, falling into his rôle of experienced butler.
He went back to the house and returned a few moments later bringing with him a tall masculine-looking woman in tweed trousers and a Fair Isle pullover.
'Chilly wind this morning,' she said.
Her voice was deep and slightly hoarse.
'I'm Iris Mullins. Mrs Griffin suggested I should come along and see you. Wanting some help in the garden. Is that it?'
'Good morning,' said Tuppence, shaking hands. 'I'm very pleased to see you. Yes, we do want some help in the garden.'
'Only just moved in, haven't you?'
'Well, it feels almost like years,' said Tuppence, 'because we've only just got all the workmen out.'
'Ah yes,' said Miss Mullins, giving a deep hoarse chuckle. 'Know what it is to have workmen in the house. But you're quite right to come in yourself and not leave it to them. Nothing gets finished until the owner's moved in and even then you usually have to get them back again to finish something they've forgotten about. Nice garden you've got here but it's been let go a bit, hasn't it?'
'Yes, I'm afraid the last people who lived here didn't care much about how the garden looked.'
'People called Jones or something like that, weren't they? Don't think I actually know them. Most of my time here, you know, I've lived on the other side, the moor side, of the town. Two houses there I go to regularly. One, two days a week and the other one, one day. Actually, one day isn't enough, not to keep it right. You had old Isaac working here, didn't you? Nice old boy. Sad he had to get himself done in by some of this violent guerrilla material that's always going about bashing someone. The inquest was about a week ago, wasn't it? I hear they haven't found out who did it yet. Go about in little groups they do, and mug people. Nasty lot. Very often the younger they are, the nastier they are. That's a nice magnolia you've got there. Soulangeana, isn't it? Much the best to have. People always want the more exotic kinds but it's better to stick to old friends when it's magnolias in my opinion.'
'It's really been more the vegetables that we're thinking about.'
'Yes, you want to build up a good working kitchen garden, don't you? There doesn't seem to have been much attention paid before. People lose their spirit and think it's better really to buy their vegetables, and not try and grow them.'
'I'd always want to grow new potatoes and peas,' said Tuppence, 'and I think French beans too, because you then can have them all young.'
'That's right. You might as well add runner beans. Most gardeners are so proud of their runner beans that they like them a foot and a half in length. They think that's a fine bean. Always takes a prize at a local show. But you're quite right, you know. Young vegetables are the things that you really enjoy eating.'
Albert appeared suddenly.
'Mrs Redcliffe on the telephone, madam,' he said. 'Wanted to know if you could lunch tomorrow.'
'Tell her I'm very sorry,' said Tuppence. 'I'm afraid we may have to go to London tomorrow. Oh - wait a minute, Albert. Just wait while I write a word or two.'
She pulled out a small pad from her bag, wrote a few words on it and handed it to Albert.
'Tell Mr Beresford.,' she said. 'Tell him Miss Mullins is here and we're in the garden. I forgot to do what he asked me to do, give him the name and address of the person he is writing to. I've written it here -'
'Certainly, madam,' said Albert, and disappeared.
Tuppence returned to the vegetable conversation.
'I expect you're very bus
y,' she said, 'as you are working three days already.'
'Yes, and as I said it's rather the other side of the town. I live the other side of the town. I've got a small cottage there.'
At that moment Tommy arrived from the house. Hannibal was with him, running round in large circles. Hannibal reached Tuppence first. He stopped still for a moment, spread out his paws, and then rushed at Miss Mullins with a fierce array of barking. She took a step or two back in some alarm.
'This is our terrible dog,' said Tuppence. 'He doesn't really bite, you know. At least very seldom. It's usually only the postman he likes to bite.'
'All dogs bite postmen, or try to,' said Miss Mullins.
'He's a very good guard dog,' said Tuppence. 'He's a Manchester Terrier, you know, and they are good guard dogs. He protects the house in a wonderful way. He won't let anyone near it or come inside and he looks after me very carefully. He evidently regards me as his principal charge in life.'