Dialogues of the Dead

365 'Great.' Though Headingley's popularity was great enough for Uniformed to be there in numbers too, this was essentially a CID party, and Dalziel's absence meant the duties of host devolved upon him. He went forward to welcome the Chief Constable. 'Glad you could make it, sir,' he said. 'Looks like everyone's determined it's going to be a great night.' Even as he spoke his eyes told him that he was wrong. Trimble's features had the cast of a man who'd come to bury someone rather' than praise him. 'Where is he?' asked the Chief curtly. 'George?' 'No. Mr Dalziel.' ,, 'On his way,' said Pascoe. 'Let me get you a drink, sir.' ' On his way wasn't a positive lie as, presumably, wherever Dalziel was, he purposed at some point to arrive at the Social Club, therefore, whatever he was doing, he could be said to be on his way there. But the positive truth was that Pascoe hadn't the faintest idea where the Fat Man was. He had seen him briefly on his return | from the Centre but a phone call had taken him away before he;, could enlarge upon his comment in response to the question of how he'd got on with Dee: 'Yon bugger's too clever by half.' ' While being too clever by half was not in itself a guarantee of;' criminality, it was certainly true that several men so categorized by Dalziel were currently doing The Times crossword before breakfast in one of Her Majesty's penitentiaries. Bowler hadn't been able to add much more about Dee, but he was voluble about his own discoveries and was clearly hurt just this ; side of the sulks by Wield's reduction of them to a self-mutilating lexicographer and a German poet who changed his name 'cos he; got the piss taken out of him, neither of whom seemed to have any discernible relevance to the case in hand. For a small man, Clan Trimble had an authoritarian way with'' a large drink and had downed three of these with no apparent^ effect on his frame of mind when Pascoe glanced at his watch. and murmured, 'Show time, I think, sir. The natives are getting a little restless.' 'What? No, no, what's your hurry? The DI seems to be enjoying himself. Another few minutes won't hurt. No word from Andy yet?' 'Fraid not, but any moment now, I'm sure . . .' And as if he'd been waiting for his cue, the Fat Man erupted through the main door, emanating good cheer like the Spirit of Christmas Present. Making his way across the room towards Trimble, he paused to smite Headingley on the shoulder, ruffle Novello's hair, and utter some good thing which set the table on a roar. Then he arrived at the bar, accepted the large Scotch which materialized there, downed it in one, and said, 'Made it then! Would have hated to miss your speech, sir.' 'Miss my. .. ? Andy, you said you'd ring.' 'I know I did, and I would have done, only things got a bit complicated ...' He put his arm round Trimble's shoulders and drew the Chief aside and spoke earnestly in his ear. 'Like Lord Dorincourt giving some friendly advice to Little Lord Fauntleroy,' murmured Pascoe to Wield. 'At least it's stopped him looking like he'd had his budget cut,' said Wield as Trimble's expression first of all relaxed, then eased itself into a positive smile as the Fat Man smote his hand to his breast in a histrionic gesture of reassurance. 'I think he's just sold him a used policeman,' said Pascoe thoughtfully. Dalziel came to join him as the Chief Constable wandered over to Headingley's table and put his hand on the DI's shoulder and made a joke which won a laugh as loud as Dalziel's had. 'Dan's going to make the presentation then?' said Pascoe. 'Always was,' said Dalziel. 'Am I going to find out what's being going on?' 'Why not? Read that.' He pulled some creased papers out of his pocket and handed them over. Trimble had moved into the centre of the room, there were cries for order, and after the inevitable responses of 'Mine's a pint' had won their inevitable laughs, he began to speak without notes. He had an excellent public manner and as he rehearsed the highlights of the retiring detective's career with wit and eloquence, it was hard to believe that he'd had any reluctance to be doing so.