The Deadly Affair Page #2

We authorized the security check.

You conducted it.

You've nothing to worry about.

- Except Mrs Fennan.

- Quite so.

I'm sorry, love. I was in a huff.

- About me?

- No.

There's a fellow at the Foreign Office

seems to have shot himself.

They want me to go down

to the wilds of Surrey

in four hours.

Poor darling. When will you be back?

How long would you like me to stay away?

I'll phone you before I start home.

- Do you want to know who it is?

- No!

Why not?

We tried that before.

Knowing gives a shape to the jealousy.

I don't want that sort of distraction

when I have to be busy.

I suppose I ought to shave.

You ought to kick me out.

We tried that before, too.

Remember in Stockholm?

Yes.

We missed one another.

Good night, Ann.

Mrs Fennan?

My name is Dobbs.

I see.

The police rang. Asked if I minded.

I didn't know what to say. Come in.

Who can one ask to clean such things?

Sit down.

If you're too warm,

you can take your coat off.

Oh, thank you.

You're the man

who interviewed my husband about loyalty.

I'm the man who recommended

that your husband be cleared.

Cleared? Of what?

Your husband was a communist

when he was at Oxford.

His recent promotion at the Foreign Office

gave him access

to highly secret information.

Some busybody

wrote us an anonymous letter,

and we had no option but to follow it up.

I was only doing my duty.

- To whom, Mr Dobbs?

- We had to check.

Check.

Sounds like a game, doesn't it?

- It's not a game, Mrs Fennan.

- No?

You treat people like wooden pawns.

You plot their moves.

You write their names on papers,

and then you put the papers into files.

But sometime the names have

wives and children,

as well as records.

And generally

very ordinary human motives

to justify their sad little dossier

and their make-believe sins.

And when that happens,

I'm very sorry for you.

Yes, when that happens,

I'm very sorry for myself.

Then go back to Whitehall

and look for more spies

on your drawing board,

because you have no place

among real people.

You dropped a bomb from the sky,

but don't come down here

to look at the blood and hear the screaming.

Mrs Fennan, you've had a terrible loss.

You must be exhausted.

You can't have slept all night.

Thank you,

but I scarcely hoped to sleep today.

Anyway, sleep is not a luxury I enjoy.

I am conscious of my body 20 hours a day.

As for my loss...

- Are you married, Mr Dobbs?

- Yes.

Maybe you would describe your wife

as a precious possession?

I don't possess her. I love her.

You see, for six years in camps,

I had no possession,

except for a comb and a toothbrush,

and a comb was of no use

because my head was shaved those days.

I loved my husband.

But I have the experience

of suffering losses with discretion.

Mrs Fennan,

my interview with your husband

was almost a formality.

I'm sure that he enjoyed it.

We got along very well together.

Well, that's not the impression he gave me.

What?

No, he was terribly upset

when he came back home at 7:00 last night.

He said he couldn't face the theatre,

and made me go by myself.

He took a sedative tablet.

- Who's that now?

- It could be my chief.

He said that he might ring me down here.

- Would you like me to take it for you?

- Yeah.

- Walliston 294?

- Yes?

Good morning, sir. Exchange here.

Your 8:
30 wakeup call.

- My what?

- Your 8:
30 alarm call.

Oh, yes! Thank you very much.

Yes, it was for you.

It was your 8:
30 alarm call

from the exchange.

What?

Somebody who cannot sleep

and ask for an alarm call,

did that surprise you, Mr Dobbs?

- Yes, a little.

- It shouldn't.

You see, I have an appalling memory,

so the call was not to wake me,

but to remind me,

like a knot in a handkerchief.

What was it that you had to remember?

You see, I almost forgot that, too.

I had to remember

that Samuel was short of sherry,

and that I should call the wine merchant

for a morning delivery.

It won't be necessary anymore.

Well, I've already intruded too long,

Mrs Fennan.

If my chief should call,

will you please tell him

that I shall be at the Walliston police station

with Inspector Mendel until 9:15.

After that, I shall take your advice

and return to Whitehall

to my drawing board.

Stand up.

- Morning, sir.

- Charles Dobbs.

Mr Dobbs, sir.

- Stand up!

- Good morning, Mr Dobbs.

I've a message from your department.

You're to ring the Adviser at once.

- Thanks.

- Use my office.

Here's Mendel. Asleep on duty.

Kick him out if you want to.

He's not a proper policeman anymore.

He's an old-age pensioner.

- Make yourself at home.

- Thank you.

Would you like me out, too, sir,

while you phone the Adviser?

No. We'll let the Adviser

have another kitten or two

while we do something

rather more practical.

Someone at the Fennan house

asked to be called

by the Walliston Exchange

at 8:
30 this morning.

I want to find out

what time the request was made

and, if possible, by whom.

- Number, please.

- Walliston police. Supervisor, please.

And I want to find out

if it was a standing request

for a morning alarm call,

and if so, let's have all the details.

- Can I help you?

- Walliston police.

- Supervisor?

- Yes, sir.

Walliston CID here.

There's been a burglary in Merridale Lane,

and we think

they may have used the house opposite,

that's Walliston 294,

as an observation point.

Would you find out whether that number

called the exchange any time after,

say, 6:
00 yesterday evening?

- 6:
00. I'll check that, sir.

- Right. Thank you. I'll hang on.

Photostat of the suicide note.

Super said to give you a copy.

They're sending the original

to the Foreign Office

and a copy to Marlene Dietrich.

Marlene Dietrich? Who's that?

Sorry, sir.

That's what we call your Adviser, sir.

Pretty general in the Branch

and in the Foreign Office, too.

- Very sorry, sir.

- I think it's beautiful. Don't be sorry.

And don't call me sir.

Typed on his own portable.

- What make?

- Olivetti.

Well, so was the anonymous letter

that denounced him!

Well, it's a pretty common make.

We'll check, of course.

- Hello, caller?

- Hello. Yes?

- I have some information.

- Yes, I'm ready.

The only thing we have down

for Walliston 294 last night was an alarm.

Oh, yes?

It was made for 8:30 in the morning.

I wonder when she asked for that.

- 7:
55 last night.

- 7:
55 last night?

- It was a man who made the call, sir.

- Oh, it was a man, eh?

- Girl's quite sure it was a man?

- Yes, she's absolutely definite.

Oh, I see. Well, that fixes that, doesn't it?

We'll have to think again, won't we?

Thanks all the same.

- You've been very kind. Bye-bye.

- You're welcome.

Samuel Fennan asked

for this morning's alarm call

about two and a half hours

before he shot himself last night.

An Olivetti portable!

And so was the letter

that denounced him to the Foreign Office.

Yes, Dobbs, Olivetti's are two a penny.

But everybody has one.

That is exactly my point!

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