Free Silence Observed by Michael Innes Page B

you walked out and went to the pictures? Inside, you ought to be.”
    “You mustn’t make suggestions, Sergeant, as to where Mrs Huffkins ought, or ought not, to be.” Appleby shook his head seriously. “Although her behaviour, it has to be admitted, was not wholly that of a responsible citizen. Mrs Huffkins, are we to understand that you actually saw Mr Trechmann being shot?”
    “I didn’t say that, I didn’t – and you can’t put it on me that I did. As I come in through this ’ere back shop, there was Mr Trechmann with an ’ole in ’is ’ead. And there was someone what ’ad dropped ’is gun on ’earing me, and was out through the other door – the one to the little back stair – just as I came in and caught a glimpse of ’is back. And then in come this gentleman as anyone can see, Mr ’effer, from the street. So it’s none of my business now, I thinks, and I leaves ’im to it.”
    There was a moment’s silence. Inspector Parker looked glum. He was seeing, clearly enough, that as the killer of Jacob Trechmann young Mr Heffer would never be worth a night’s board and lodging in a police cell. Heffer himself, who ought to have been looking correspondingly relieved, was in fact paying very little attention again. There was a strained look on his face. And he was reaching into a pocket – Appleby supposed it was to pull out a watch – when the thing happened.
    A bell rang. It rang in the room in which this queer conference had been transacting itself. And it was pretty obvious that it had been rung at the front door of the shop. It was the door, Appleby remembered, that he had instructed the constable to secure. Presumably the constable would now answer this summons.
    But this didn’t happen. Something extremely surprising happened instead. Jimmy Heffer rose and shouted – shouted with all the power of his athlete’s well-developed lungs.
    “Clear out! Run! Run like mad!”
    The shout had rung out through the front shop, and clearly reached the ear it was intended for. It was followed by a moment’s astounded silence, and then by a crash which sent Parker and the sergeant hurtling out of the room. Appleby followed. The front shop was precisely as it had been. The dead man sprawled as if in an elaborate demonstration of disregard. But the young constable was sprawling too. In too rapid a dash for the street door he had got entangled with the orrery – a good deal to that delicate contraption’s detriment. He picked himself up as they watched, dashed to the door, fumbled at the lock, was out in the darkness of the street and running. The sergeant followed him. Appleby turned round to find Parker glaring at Jimmy Heffer in a condition of speechlessness. Mrs Huffkins was still in the inner room. Having been accommodated with a chair by a perfect gentleman, she was in no hurry to relinquish it.
    “It would appear,” Appleby said, “that we now have the explanation of Mr Heffer’s sit-down strike.” He turned to the young man. “Do you realize the extreme gravity of your action just now?”
    “Gravity? Nonsense!” Heffer was blandly incredulous. “These people of yours have been bothering and badgering me for hours. And when that bell rang I jolly well thought they deserved to have their legs pulled.”
    “Are you seriously claiming, Mr Heffer, that you don’t know who rang that bell?”
    “Of course I don’t. Probably it was a street urchin. But you all rose magnificently to my little joke.”
    This was more than Inspector Parker proved willing to take.
    “I think you’ll find,” he said, “a magistrate rising magnificently to it too. I regret that I must–”
    But at this Appleby interrupted.
    “Just a moment, Parker. Here are your men back again. Empty-handed, I think.” He turned to the young constable as he came puffing through the door. “No good?”
    “I’m afraid not, sir. Hopeless, once you’re round that corner. Plenty of people still on the street, and plenty of