Free Gently Sinking by Alan Hunter Page B
Authors: Alan Hunter
phone-call during the evening?’
‘No.’
‘Talk to anyone?’
‘The barman. The waiter.
‘What did he tell you about the ticket stubs?’
‘Before they took him away he told me to keep them in a safe place.’
‘And this was all of a pattern,’ Gently said, ‘with your other nights-out – the usual thing?’
She made the glass ting with a flick of her nail.
‘Christ,’ she said. ‘It was the first time in months.’
‘So going back a little,’ Gently said. ‘Now we seem to have established your husband didn’t murder Blackburn. You said he wanted to make sure you saw the notice in the paper, and I asked you why. I’m asking you again.’
She got up, carried her glass to the bar, began putting together a fresh drink.
‘It’s a question of how much I owe Freddy,’ she said. ‘I like to be square. I don’t owe him so much. Maybe playing ball about his alibi clears me. I don’t want him sent up for what he didn’t do.’
‘So,’ Gently said.
She swizzled the drink.
‘Yes, he wanted to rub it in,’ she said. ‘Because Tommy had slept with me. Because Freddy tried to thump him for it. Because it was Tommy who thumped Freddy. He hated Tommy.’
She drank the drink standing at the bar then came back to the settee. She took a cigarette from the cigarette-box. Gently lit it for her. Her fingers were trembling. She sat down again, legs slanted, took some drags at the cigarette. Gently had stuck his pipe in his mouth but he was sucking on it empty.
‘I had plenty of reason,’ Mrs Grey said. ‘Don’t think I’m a nympho, something of that sort. It just isn’t me, doing that. Once upon a time I wouldn’t have dreamed of it. But then I thought Freddy loved me. He did love me, I’m sure of that. Once he loved me. Perhaps I should have had a child, only he didn’t want it, so I didn’t.’
‘How long have you been married?’ Gently asked.
‘Oh, four years, nearly five. I met him soon after he’d gone in with Tommy. He was different in those days, honestly different. I wanted a job. I was a typist, liked to call myself a secretary. I was sent to Tommy. He took me on. So I met Freddy. He did love me.’
‘You knew what their business was?’
‘Yes. Sugar. If it was anything different, I didn’t know it. Shipping sugar was what we dealt with in the office, and return cargoes, mostly machinery. Return cargoes were the big headache. The sugar side ran itself. We had twelve-month contracts with Hamish McClure to carry a fixed tonnage out of Kingston.’
‘Did you know your husband associated with black women?’
Her mouth twisted. ‘Not at first.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘At first he loved me. We did everything together. For a time.’
‘Then?’
‘Then we didn’t. I had to go home for some weeks to nurse my mother. It got so he wasn’t at home in the evenings when I phoned, said he was out chasing business. Some business.’
‘Other women?’
‘He was going around with Tommy and Ozzie. I always knew Tommy had black friends, he was in business with some of them at Brickfields. He had a woman, I don’t know her name, but she was beautiful. Plenty of that went on, you bet. Freddy was certainly getting his share. And after Mother died, everything changed. I saw less and less of Freddy in the evenings. And he didn’t want me, you know? It was after that. He stopped loving me.’
She ungummed the cigarette from her lips, ran her tongue over them, drew more smoke.
‘Did you row him?’ Gently asked.
‘Of course. I was hurt. Bitterly hurt.’
‘It did no good.’
‘None at all. It was suddenly too late. He’d gone away.’
‘You tried other things?’
She smiled tremulously. ‘Yes, but they weren’t any good either. It’s no use, just no use. When they stop loving they stop. You can be Helen and the Queen of Sheba, it doesn’t matter. They’re through.’
‘But something particular happened,’ Gently said. ‘It wasn’t just neglect that drove you
‘No.’
‘Talk to anyone?’
‘The barman. The waiter.
‘What did he tell you about the ticket stubs?’
‘Before they took him away he told me to keep them in a safe place.’
‘And this was all of a pattern,’ Gently said, ‘with your other nights-out – the usual thing?’
She made the glass ting with a flick of her nail.
‘Christ,’ she said. ‘It was the first time in months.’
‘So going back a little,’ Gently said. ‘Now we seem to have established your husband didn’t murder Blackburn. You said he wanted to make sure you saw the notice in the paper, and I asked you why. I’m asking you again.’
She got up, carried her glass to the bar, began putting together a fresh drink.
‘It’s a question of how much I owe Freddy,’ she said. ‘I like to be square. I don’t owe him so much. Maybe playing ball about his alibi clears me. I don’t want him sent up for what he didn’t do.’
‘So,’ Gently said.
She swizzled the drink.
‘Yes, he wanted to rub it in,’ she said. ‘Because Tommy had slept with me. Because Freddy tried to thump him for it. Because it was Tommy who thumped Freddy. He hated Tommy.’
She drank the drink standing at the bar then came back to the settee. She took a cigarette from the cigarette-box. Gently lit it for her. Her fingers were trembling. She sat down again, legs slanted, took some drags at the cigarette. Gently had stuck his pipe in his mouth but he was sucking on it empty.
‘I had plenty of reason,’ Mrs Grey said. ‘Don’t think I’m a nympho, something of that sort. It just isn’t me, doing that. Once upon a time I wouldn’t have dreamed of it. But then I thought Freddy loved me. He did love me, I’m sure of that. Once he loved me. Perhaps I should have had a child, only he didn’t want it, so I didn’t.’
‘How long have you been married?’ Gently asked.
‘Oh, four years, nearly five. I met him soon after he’d gone in with Tommy. He was different in those days, honestly different. I wanted a job. I was a typist, liked to call myself a secretary. I was sent to Tommy. He took me on. So I met Freddy. He did love me.’
‘You knew what their business was?’
‘Yes. Sugar. If it was anything different, I didn’t know it. Shipping sugar was what we dealt with in the office, and return cargoes, mostly machinery. Return cargoes were the big headache. The sugar side ran itself. We had twelve-month contracts with Hamish McClure to carry a fixed tonnage out of Kingston.’
‘Did you know your husband associated with black women?’
Her mouth twisted. ‘Not at first.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘At first he loved me. We did everything together. For a time.’
‘Then?’
‘Then we didn’t. I had to go home for some weeks to nurse my mother. It got so he wasn’t at home in the evenings when I phoned, said he was out chasing business. Some business.’
‘Other women?’
‘He was going around with Tommy and Ozzie. I always knew Tommy had black friends, he was in business with some of them at Brickfields. He had a woman, I don’t know her name, but she was beautiful. Plenty of that went on, you bet. Freddy was certainly getting his share. And after Mother died, everything changed. I saw less and less of Freddy in the evenings. And he didn’t want me, you know? It was after that. He stopped loving me.’
She ungummed the cigarette from her lips, ran her tongue over them, drew more smoke.
‘Did you row him?’ Gently asked.
‘Of course. I was hurt. Bitterly hurt.’
‘It did no good.’
‘None at all. It was suddenly too late. He’d gone away.’
‘You tried other things?’
She smiled tremulously. ‘Yes, but they weren’t any good either. It’s no use, just no use. When they stop loving they stop. You can be Helen and the Queen of Sheba, it doesn’t matter. They’re through.’
‘But something particular happened,’ Gently said. ‘It wasn’t just neglect that drove you