Free Full Fury by Roger Ormerod Page A

catch them in their own net by showing that Gaines had had only seven to fire. There’d be a complex argument about whether Gaines could have re-loaded. It wouldn’t help Gaines, not with the strength of the rest of it against him. But it would cast doubts. And with the question unresolved Crowshaw dared not take his case to the Public Prosecutor’s office. What had seemed to be a routine case was turning out to be very tricky indeed.
    ‘ The devil of it is,’ said Crowshaw to the sergeant, ‘that there could well have been more than nine. You can’t tell me that an amateur like him would manage to get six shots into his man—in the dark—out of nine.’
    ‘ I’m just thinking he maybe had two guns.’
    And as Crowshaw was aware that none of the bullets had distinctive markings, it seemed a good idea to proceed on those lines.
    ‘ Let’s have Lovejoy in again,’ he decided.
    Gaines had been quite open about Lovejoy’s name and address, which had placed Lovejoy in an awkward position, because he was a well-known figure to the Birmingham City Police. Being a potential Crown witness he was protected from prosecution on this, at least, of his many faults. He was expected to reveal enough, though, but he was aware that revealing too much would undermine his reputation in the underworld. His attempts to steer a neutral course were already playing on his nerves, and when they got him in again he twitched noticeably in the chair in front of the desk.
    ‘ Now tell me again,’ Crowshaw invited. ‘How many guns did you sell to Neville Gaines?’
    ‘ Only one, Mr Crowshaw.’
    ‘ I’ve got reason to believe it was two.’
    ‘ Now why should I tell a lie?’
    ‘ Maybe you think you’ve gone far enough, admitting to one.’
    ‘ I didn’t have—’
    ‘ Any alternative? Precisely. But if he’d asked for two… what then?’
    ‘ He only wanted one.’
    ‘ So I take it you’d got more? If he’d asked.’
    Lovejoy looked pained. ‘I’m not saying that.’
    ‘ But you are.’ Crowshaw smiled. Sometimes he enjoyed himself. ‘Would there have been another, if he’d asked for it?’
    ‘No.’ Lovejoy shrugged. ‘Not another thirty-eight.’
    Crowshaw seized on the inference. ‘You mean,’ he said softly, ‘he asked for a thirty-eight? In those words.’
    ‘ Yes.’
    It contradicted all that Crowshaw had learned about Gaines. That he should have gone in search of a gun at all was difficult enough to accept; that he should have been so specific seemed completely out of character.
    ‘ One thirty-eight?’
    ‘ He said—could I sell him a thirty-eight automatic.’
    ‘ Which you could? And did.’
    Lovejoy made a shambling shrug. ‘I told you, Mr Crowshaw, it so happened I could put my hands on…’
    Shortly after that they threw him out.
    Crowshaw wanted time to think… and he hadn’t got it. A report had to go in every day to the Chief Supt., and what was he going to put in that day’s effort? No progress.
    Freer moved from the window. ‘I think you scared him.’
    ‘ You heard what he said. Gaines specified a thirty-eight.’
    ‘ So what? Maybe he’d been reading some thriller or other, and Gaines thought there was something magic in the words.’
    But Crowshaw was unconvinced. Instinct told him there was something he should understand, and logic told him that there were two guns and be damned to explanations. He was not sure which line to take.
    ‘ What did you make of Mrs Gaines?’ he asked, wondering if it had been a good idea to trust that interview to Freer.
    ‘ I think she tried to seduce me.’
    And Crowshaw tried to laugh it off. ‘On the sofa?’
    ‘ With her eyes.’
    Freer was being funny, that was it. Crowshaw found the levity offensive, assuming as it did a familiarity that must come from Freer’s lack of confidence in Crowshaw’s ability.
    ‘ I’ll go and see her myself,’ said Crowshaw. He had never liked Freer, and now he was beginning to understand why.
    He rang down