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owning a conservatory.
 FromThe Toad, March 2, 1984
 & but what wasactuallysaid at that fateful tea party, it was impossible to
ascertain, continued Chymes while the pressroom stared at him, hanging on his
every word,  until I devised a forensic technique which I call  cake-crumb
scatter-pattern identification. This works on the principle that if someone
eats cake while talking, the crumbs are ejected from the mouth at different
rates according to the syllables of the words spoken. By analyzing the pattern
of crumbs on the tablecloth, I was able to deduce that the conversation was
not about the weather, as Mrs. Pitkins claimed, but the subject of the
misdiagnosis of botulism poisoning, a line of questioning that we were able to
bring to our suspect, who soon confessed everything in a tearful scene that
made a fitting end to the whole painful inquiry.
Friedland was greeted by the usual standing ovation, which he modestly
dismissed with a wave of the hand. There were a few technical questions about
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his new technique, regarding varying weights of the component parts of the
cake and how far you might project a chocolate sprinkle when pronouncing
 psoriasis, something Chymes deftly answered with complicated diagrams on an
overhead projector as DS Flotsam gave out printed copies of all the details.
Jack, Briggs and Mary were watching from the door of the anteroom.
 What am I doing here? asked Jack.  I ve got nothing really substantial to
add I don t really know if Winkie s death was evenconnected. 
 It s from the seventh floor, Jack. Briggs said it without enthusiasm.
Someone was leaning on him.
 What s going on, sir?
Briggs looked down and rubbed his forehead.  The Guild is very powerful,
Jack. I m sorry.
Before Jack could evenbegin to think what he might mean, Chymes strode past
them as he walked out of the pressroom. He went back on to take a curtain call
but then came off again, glared at Jack with a confident smile and said,  You
want the heat, Jack? Try the fire.
And he joined Flotsam and Barnes on the other side of the anteroom, where
they attended to him as a manager looks after a boxer who has just come out of
the ring.
Usually Jack waited for the journalists to file out, as they generally made a
lot of noise, and if Archibald or anyone else was polite enough to stay, he
would at least be heard. But today was different.Today no one filed out. There
was silence. For a moment Jack thought Chymes was about to go back on, but he
had already started to discuss the possibility of solving the Slough Thuggee
cult murders in time for the early-evening news the following day.
 Sir, said Mary as she leaned around the door to peer at their expectant
faces,  I think they re waiting for you.
 That s not possible, replied Jack, his heart missing a beat. He looked at
Briggs, who wouldn t catch his eye. He d clearly been set up.
 Shit.
 What? asked Mary.
 I m going to be boned out there.
 You can refuse to go on.
 If it s not now, it will be later. No, let s get it over with.
He walked on to the symphonic clatter of camera motor drives.
 Good afternoon, he began, feeling what he imagined was something akin to
bowel-moving stage fright.  My name is Detective Inspector Jack Spratt, and I
am head of the Nursery Crime Division here at Reading Central. On Monday
morning at approximately one A.M., Humperdinck Jehoshaphat Aloysius Stuyvesant
van Dumpty was murdered by a person or persons unknown as he sat upon a wall
at his place of work. He died instantly. At present we are unable to state a
motive.
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Josh Hatchett asked,  How was he killed?
 He was shot.
A murmur went through the collected newsmen. So far this wasn t going too
badly.
 Do you have any suspects?
 We have a woman named Elizabeth  Bessie Brooks. We will be issuing a
photograph after the press conference. In a separate development, Mr. William
Winkie, Humpty Dumpty s next-door neighbor, was found murdered in Palmer Park
this morning. We are not ruling out the possibility of a connection.
 Is Mrs. Garibaldi-Dumpty s suicide connected to Mr. Dumpty s death?
 It is a direct consequence of it, yes.
Hector Sleaze had been staring at what looked like a hastily photocopied list
of press cuttings.
 Detective, I wonder if you could confirm for me that you recently attempted
to convict the three pigs of Mr. Wolff s murder?
Jack shuffled uneasily. Here it comes, he thought.  That is true, yes.
A ripple of laughter went through the room, and Jack felt himself grow hot.
 And that this failed conviction cost the taxpayers a quarter of a million
pounds?
 I m not aware of the precise figure.
 Okay, said Hector after a pause,  can you also confirm that you have the
lowest conviction/investigation ratio of any department in Reading?
 Without looking at the records, it would be difficult to say.
 Then let me help you, Sleaze muttered, looking through his list.  Sheep
rustling from Miss Bo-peep. Two arrests, no charges. Failure to properly take
care of livestock by  Boy Blue. One arrest, no charges. Cruelly putting a cat
in a well. Johnny Flynn arrested, no charges brought. Kidnapping of Hansel and
Gretel with intent to commit cannibalism. One arrest, no charges. Criminal
spreading panic of sky falling. One arrest, no charges. Bluebeard. Died
awaiting trial.  Goosey Gander, freed on appeal. Mr. Punch, arrested for wife
battery, throwing a baby downstairs and illegal possession of a crocodile. All
charges dropped.
Hector put down the list.  I could go on. Not a very good record, is it,
Inspector?
Jack stared at him. If the Prosecution Service had proceeded, he could have
brought convictions on a lot more occasions. If there had been awill to have
them convicted.
 The NCD is a department fraught with  [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]