Chapter Four 

As soon as he saw Inspector Martin behind Harper, Philips knew he was in for trouble. Martin looked exactly like a policeman ought to: solid, dependable, persistent - all of which in fact he was. Philips searched his memory for what else he knew about him, but all he could come up with was that he liked a game of golf, hardly helpful in the circumstances. He was in his mid forties and had pale blue eyes which at the moment were directed at Phillips with an unpleasantly curious gleam. 

"Come in gentlemen." Philips held the door open and gestured with his hand. "What brings you here? It doesn't look like a social call." 

"Just a few routine inquiries, sir," said Martin easily. 

Philips raised his eyebrows and glanced at Harper, who stared solidly back, his left fist clenched by his side. That showed Harper was worried, he thought, as well he might be. He wondered briefly on whose behalf. He wondered why he had come with Martin. Was he trying to help him or trap him? In either case, he wished he hadn't come; Harper knew him too well. He invited them to be seated and followed suit. 

"Now sir," began Martin, "how long have you known Toni Gordon?" 

Philips' face looked merely thoughtful, while inside his mind raced. Why were they talking to him about this? What had they found out? "It must be about a year now I think. Last September. Since she started working in the shop at any rate." 

"And when was the last time you saw her?" 

Philips had expected that question but it still made his pulses leap. Should he tell them the truth or deny everything? The sudden tension in the room was almost tangible, and he made the wrong choice. 

"Tuesday morning. I went down for some milk." Philips crossed his legs and looked perfectly at ease in his grey trousers and cream cable knit jumper. The detectives exchanged looks. The tension reduced a level but Philips felt no relief. 

"I mean after that, on Saturday," pressed Martin. 

"You must be mistaken Inspector, I didn't see her after Tuesday." He paused, "Look here, wouldn't the neighbours be more helpful than me in telling you about her movements?" 

"We're talking to them to sir; don't worry about that. Now you've been in the shop I take it?" 

"Yes, of course." 

"Have you been out the back or upstairs at any time?" 

Philips tried to remember if he had touched anything. "No, only in the shop." 

"You're sure about that? Nowhere else, just the shop?" 

"Of course I'm sure." 

Martin smiled placatingly, "What, as a matter of interest, were you doing yourself last night?" 

Philips had prepared an answer to that, and let them disprove it if they could. It wasn't up to him to prove his whereabouts. 

"I was here, Inspector, working on my book. Surely you don't think I had anything to do with the murder do you?" 

"Alone?" Martin persisted. 

"Yes of course, I can't concentrate if other people are around." 

"What was your relationship with Toni Gordon?" Martin enquired. Philips stared at him in genuine surprise. "I didn't have a relationship with her. I only knew her casually, from the shop." 

"Did you ever date her?" 

"No!" 

"She wasn't your girlfriend?" 

"No! I've told you that." 

"Ever make a pass at her?" 

"Never! She was only seventeen for Christ's sake!" 

"Yes." Martin spoke flatly. "And you're certain you've never been in her bedroom?" 

"No! How many times do I have to tell you?" Philips was no longer pretending to be angry. 

"Remember those cufflinks you had, the ones with the raised triangle imprinted on a square?" Harper spoke for the first time. 

"Yes." Philips was guarded. 

"Still got them?" 

"No as a matter of fact. I lost them a couple of months ago. Why?" 

"I see," Harper was non committal. 

"Where did you lose them?" Martin this time. 

"On a ferry ride, they fell straight into the harbour, they must have been loose." 

"Do you mind if we search your flat, sir?" Harper spoke for the first time. And he called him "sir". That more than anything else told Philips that the detective was not here as his friend, today at least they were hunter and quarry. 

"Yes, I most certainly do!" 

"We've got a warrant, sir," Harper took it out of his pocket. A warrant? Things were rapidly going from bad to worse. Why on earth had he chosen to lie to them? Now he was trapped. 

"Go ahead then. Though I haven't a clue what you expect to find." He stood up, as did the other two men. 

"Cufflinks," said Harper. "Or perhaps one cufflink would be more precise." 

Philips tried hard to keep his expression from changing. Thank God he had noticed one was missing last night when he got home. He had thrown the other one down the drain outside. Where on earth had he lost the other one? Please God, not in the girl's bedroom. 

While Inspector Martin was searching his bedroom, Harper looked coldly at him. "Perhaps you'd like to tell us the truth now." 

"I have told you the truth!" Philips was genuinely angry. Not because Harper had called him a liar, but because of his hostility towards him. Harper was supposed to be his friend. He stepped threateningly towards him, "I hope you've got some evidence to back that up or you'll be facing a lawsuit in a minute." 

"Sit down, and don't be a bigger fool than you already have been!" Harper spoke sharply. At that moment Inspector Martin came out, and briefly shook his head. 

"It doesn't really matter; I think I can testify that the cufflink found at the crime scene belonged to you." Philips stared at him, surely he was bluffing? 

"You asked for evidence," Harper continued. "You say you've only been in the shop?" 

Philips finally kept his mouth shut, waiting. 

Harper sighed. "Your fingerprints are in the girl's bedroom on her desk." Silence. Painfully Philips remembered pulling himself up off the floor, and clutching the desk for support. 

"Did you have a quarrel?" prompted Martin. 

"For God's sake, what about? I hardly knew the girl." 

"Then what were you doing there on Saturday night?" 

"I tell you I wasn't there!" Philips had the terrible feeling he was nailing himself into his own coffin but he couldn't see how to get out of it now. 

"A witness saw you enter the house last night at about eight-thirty and leave it just after nine o'clock. What were you doing there if you weren't seeing Toni Gordon?" 

"Your witness made a mistake. I was-" Harper held up a hand to stop him, "No more lies, Richard. Let me summarise what we've got." Martin looked quickly across at him but Harper continued in a cold voice. 

"We have a witness who says that in her last conversation with Toni Gordon, the girl told her that you were coming to see her on Saturday night while her aunt was out with the intention of t-taking her to bed. The witness said furthermore that you had been pursuing Toni for several months now and that you were both very attracted to each other. That although Toni had agreed to let you visit her last night, she had not yet decided whether or not to have sex with you," he paused for breath. "The witness said that she had been curious to see you and had waited by her window all evening. She saw you enter the shop at eight thirty and leave it around half an hour later, that while you were in there she heard a scream and that when you came out you were running." 

Philips was completely stunned. So this was what they had had up their sleeves. No wonder he had felt as if they were baiting him the whole time - and like the most stupid fool in one of his books, he had gone merrily on his way lying at every opportunity. He'd been scared and ashamed of running away and now he was in major trouble. 

Rather helplessly he muttered, "That's just not true." He didn't fail to see the looks of cynical disbelief on the faces of the two detectives. 

XXX 

Frank prowled around the dance floor, hands deep in his pockets. There must be some single girls here! Five musicians up on a platform clasped their instruments to their chests and flung themselves about wildly to the loud beat of a Skyhooks song. Smoke filled the top third of the room and the floor was splashed with drink. Couples cuddled in corners, on chairs, on the dance floor, everyone seemed to have a partner. Frank felt that it was wrong to behave like that on a Sunday, but being there gave him a feeling of pleasurable rebellion. 

What was going on over there? An arguing couple had caught his attention and suddenly the girl turned and flounced away. The boy stood looking after her a minute then swung back into the crowd on the dance floor, taking another girl in his arms. Frank followed the first girl, who he saw was nearly in tears. "Would you like to dance?" he asked. 

"Yes please," said the girl, scarcely even looking at him. 

It was a slow number and they circled slowly around the floor. 

"What happened? Was he two-timing you?" 

The girl hesitated a minute and then exclaimed, "Yes, the bastard, I hate him!" She paused to gulp back tears. "He took me to the dance and he goes and spends all his time dancing with Julie. Then he has the nerve to tell me I don't own him. Well I reckon if a guy says you're his girl he shouldn't mess around with anyone else." 

"Of course he shouldn't, that's like breaking a promise, cheating, isn't it? I hate people like that too." Frank agreed eagerly. 

"I'd like to kill him!" she cried wildly. 

"That's how I felt, too." 

"Why, did your girl throw you over for someone else?" 

"Yes. Look how about you become my girl? We've both been betrayed, it should work out great," he added enthusiastically. 

"Okay, I will," she said recklessly. That'd teach him. Let him dance with Julie, see if she cared. She didn't need him; she could get someone else whenever she liked. See how he liked it. 

Frank held out his hand, "Shake." She did so. Any other time she would have thought it an odd thing to do, but it fitted her mood tonight. She could hardly wait to see his face. Frank's words broke into her thoughts.  

"By the way, my name's Frank, what's yours?"