‘Westhorpe!’
‘Sorry, sir, but you didn’t seem to be about to oblige.’
Armitage joined them. He was carrying in his arms a slight, sobbing bundle. Thin white arms were clasped around his neck. Stick-like white legs protruded from a short black skirt, ending in red socks, and one black patent-leather shoe dangled from a toe. Joe saw the expression of concern on Westhorpe’s face before she could compose herself to look at the victim.
‘Says her name’s Vesta, miss,’ said Armitage.
‘Vesta,’ said Westhorpe gently. Joe noticed that she took off her police hat to talk to the girl to avoid frightening her further. ‘Hello, Vesta. I’m with the police and these gentlemen are detectives. You’re safe with us. Vesta, are you feeling strong enough to identify this person as the man who attacked you just now? Don’t worry, it’s just a formality,’ she added, ‘and he can’t do you any more harm.’
A tear-stained face looked up from Armitage’s tweed waistcoat and glowered through a thick fringe at the prisoner. A small, accusing finger pointed.
Her shriek startled Joe. ‘That’s ’im! That’s the whoreson, great pile o’ pig-shit! I know ’im! It’s my dad’s cousin ’Erbert. Just let ’im wait till I tell my mam! She’ll fillet ’im! She’ll ’ave ’is cockles off and feed ’em to our cat! An’ where’s my other shoe got to?’
Joe and Armitage exchanged long looks.
‘Shall I propose that we drop this little lot firmly into the lap of whatever lucky inspector is on duty over there in the station this bright a.m.?’ suggested Joe.
Chapter Seven
Two hours later Joe was easing his Morris Oxford Cabriolet down Upper Brook Street looking out for Tilly’s home. With an embarrassing grinding of gears he spotted it and slowed down. Armitage winced. Joe could not be certain whether it was his boss’s driving skills that so irritated the sergeant or the aristocratic appearance of the spacious Georgian house in front of which they had just rolled to a halt.
‘This looks like it,’ said Joe, heaving on the handbrake. ‘Hop out, will you, Bill, and sit in the back. I’ll go and let them know we’re here.’
‘I think they’ll have heard you, sir.’
The front door opened to reveal Tilly Westhorpe remonstrating with an elderly man. The silver-haired, straight-backed figure, of perceptibly military bearing, seemed to be losing an argument with the uniformed Tilly. She gave him a swift kiss on the cheek and stepped eagerly down the short path to the car. Joe opened the rear door and handed her over the running board and into the back seat.
This was not a social occasion and etiquette was unclear but, dash it all, what were good manners but an expressed consideration for others? On impulse, Joe turned and walked up to the house, swept off his hat and bowed his head briefly with a disarming smile. ‘Sir, I cannot drive off with a chap’s daughter without introducing myself. Commander Joseph Sandilands. We spoke on the telephone this morning. I’ve been advised by Sir Nevil to make use of Mathilda’s special skills in a particularly distressing case –’
‘Don’t concern yourself, Sandilands,’ came the swift interruption. ‘No need to explain. I’ve already spoken to Nevil about this. Frederick Westhorpe. How do you do?’
They shook hands.
‘Tilly’s told me a good deal about you, Commander.’ The shrewd blue eyes sparkled with humour for a moment. ‘The girl seems to have acquired a grudging respect for you. And, believe me – that’s unusual for her.’ Catching Joe’s surprise, he added, ‘And for heaven’s sake don’t tell her I’ve said that! Can’t say I approve of what Tilly gets up to but she tells me it’s “worthwhile, socially desirable and personally fulfilling”. I just pray it’s one of her passing enthusiasms. But that’s today’s young ladies for you! Refuse to listen to their elders and betters. Will she listen to you?’
Joe grinned. ‘Barely, sir. I have to bark a bit, I’m afraid.’
He moved aside to make way for a footman bearing a hamper.
‘Hope you don’t mind?’ said Westhorpe, nodding at the offering. ‘I try to look after her. Thought you might be glad of supplies if you’re off into the wilds of Surrey.’ A shadow fell on the bluff features. ‘Take care of her, Sandilands. As far as she’ll let you, of course! She’s very precious . . . and she’s all I’ve got . . . now.’
A toot on the horn and Tilly’s cross face and an impatient wave put an end to the conversation.