world.
âI said earlier that Iâm no military man,â Woodend told him. âWell, Iâm no actor, either. If I try lyinâ to him, heâll see right through me.â
âSo weâll just have to get
someone else
to lie to him, wonât we?â the Chief Constable said, exasperatedly.
âHe wonât talk to anyone else,â Woodend said firmly. âHe made that quite clear.â
âThatâs probably because he thinks youâre the best he can get,â Marlowe said. âWhen he realizes that a superintendent, or even a chief superintendent, is willing to speak to himââ
âItâll make no bloody difference at all!â Woodend cut in, no longer able to hide his anger. âThis manâs a professional soldier. Heâs been in the Army long enough to realize that rank isnât necessarily any guide to ability.â
âWhat did you just say?â the Chief Constable demanded.
âLook, sir, heâs thought all this through,â Woodend said, trying to sound more reasonable. âHe knows
what
he wants doinâ â anâ he knows
who
he wants to do it. Heâs simply not goinâ to accept any alternative.â
âYour arrogance seems to know no bounds,â the Chief Constable said, with disgust.
âIt wasnât me who decided I should become involved,â Woodend pointed out. âIt was Apollo. Or Major Maitland. Or whatever else you want to call him. Anâ he doesnât just want me to investigate the case â he wants me to report my findings to him on a regular basis.â
âThatâs outrageous!â the Chief Constable exploded. âWho does he think he is?â
âHe thinks heâs a man holdinâ twenty hostages at gunpoint,â Woodend replied.
âMay I intervene here?â Slater-Burnes asked diffidently.
âOf course,â Marlowe replied, hardly able to hide his relief.
âThere might be something to be said for listening to your chief inspector, Mr Marlowe,â the man from the Home Office advised. âAfter all, if storming the bank would result in all the hostages being killed â and Colonel Danvers seems to think that might well be the case â then it is certainly a strategy you should adopt only as a last resort. So what is your alternative? Why, to allow Mr Woodend to do what he wants to do!â
âI never said I
wanted
to do it at all,â Woodend pointed out.
âThen to allow Mr Woodend to do what he feels
needs
to be done,â Slater-Burnes said, shifting his ground with all the speed and elegance of a professional ballroom dancer.
âYouâre saying I should allow Woodend to re-open the case?â Marlowe asked, like a drowning man grasping at a lifeline.
Slater-Burnes laughed lightly. âGood heavens, no, Chief Constable.â
âNo?â
âCertainly not. Youâre the man on the ground â the man who is ultimately responsible. Iâd be the last person on earth to try and steal any of the credit which will be rightfully due to you when this whole terrible affair is brought to a successful conclusion. All I was doing â although I readily admit I may not have made myself completely clear â is suggesting an option which is open to you.â
The Chief Constable had been dodging responsibility his whole career, and now â in what was undoubtedly the biggest challenge he would ever have to face â he could dodge it no longer. Under normal circumstances, Woodend would gladly have
paid
to see Henry Marlowe in such an uncomfortable situation. But these were
not
normal circumstances. Innocent lives were at risk, and he simply could not stand by and watch as the Chief Constable put them in further jeopardy.
âYou have no choice, sir,â he heard himself say. âThereâs only a slim chance I can prove Judith Maitland didnât do what she was sentenced for, but